good deal of the money Louis had in his pocket to settle the deal. Then again, maybe Davis could be convinced to see things Louis’s way without ever having to discuss money.
Louis smiled and absentmindedly studied the cards in his hands. Why barter at all? Simone belonged to him, and she was underage. He’d just go and reclaim her whether Davis liked it or not. He’d blame it on the whiskey and challenge Davis to see it otherwise. If the man gave him too much trouble, he’d simply give him a beating he’d not soon forget. And if that didn’t do the trick, he’d kill him. After all, Davis was a stranger to these parts. Who’d even give a second thought if the man came up missing?
Throwing in his cards, Louis got to his feet. “I’ve had enough of this. Don’t seem to be able to concentrate on cards.”
“You’ve lost a fair bit of money,” Gus commented. “You sure you don’t want a chance to earn it back?”
“I’ll figure another way to earn my money,” Louis replied, then nodded to Ada. For the second night in a row he was going to reject her offerings. Somehow it just didn’t hold the same intrigue anymore. Simone could clearly create a new future for him … and that was far more interesting.
SIX
SIMONE COUNTED TEN NIGHTS since departing her childhood home. She felt hopelessly overwhelmed by the vast territory she’d already covered. Especially given the fact that nothing of civilization seemed to present itself to her.
Aching and sore, Simone stretched beneath her blanket and moaned. Never had she been forced to sleep on the ground outdoors. Her father never took her anywhere that required them to be gone from the cabin overnight, so she had always enjoyed the modest comfort of her own bed or the furry softness of the pelt shed. Now, more than ever, she questioned the sanity of her choice.
Forcing her body to obey, Simone slipped out from beneath the warmth of her blanket and met the morning chill. The sun barely touched the morning sky, fading the blackness of night into a dull, gunpowder gray. Simone couldn’t help but sigh. She’d seen skies like this before, and usually they meant snow. Shuddering beneath her coat, Simone rubbed her hands together in a desperate attempt to keep warm. She longed for a roaring fire and a decent meal, but neither were to be had in the Wyoming wilderness.
Glancing around at the scenery, Simone felt little comfort. There simply appeared to be no sign of a town or village anywhere. Her stomach rumbled and ached in a way that made her feel sick. She’d had very little to eat in the past week and a half. After the biscuits were gone, she’d turned to nature for food. She managed to shoot a rabbit but had no way to cook it. After contemplating the horror of eating the meat raw or going hungry, Simone had forced herself to eat part of the animal. She’d also skinned the scrawny thing and used the pelt to form a makeshift cap for herself.
She knew she looked a fright. Upon gazing into the icy waters of the river she’d followed for the past three days she saw her reflection, where she appeared as a hodgepodge of cultural contrasts. Indian moccasins. Woolen skirt and faded calico shirtwaist, both handmade in a previous decade. And a coat so old and threadbare that it did little to cut the harsh cold of the mountain air. Simone had taken the beautiful fox and wolf pelts she’d stolen from her father and slipped them between the lining and outer material of her coat. She thought them better used there as they helped to ward off the biting wind. She’d even taken to wearing both sets of her clothes and wrapping the blanket around her coat for extra protection. It helped, but not much. The elements were simply too harsh and unyielding. The earth didn’t care if she died in a rocky crevice or was swallowed up in an ice-packed river. The earth didn’t care, and neither did any of mankind. She was the ultimate orphan. Abandoned and forgotten by all.
She hoped
Louis smiled and absentmindedly studied the cards in his hands. Why barter at all? Simone belonged to him, and she was underage. He’d just go and reclaim her whether Davis liked it or not. He’d blame it on the whiskey and challenge Davis to see it otherwise. If the man gave him too much trouble, he’d simply give him a beating he’d not soon forget. And if that didn’t do the trick, he’d kill him. After all, Davis was a stranger to these parts. Who’d even give a second thought if the man came up missing?
Throwing in his cards, Louis got to his feet. “I’ve had enough of this. Don’t seem to be able to concentrate on cards.”
“You’ve lost a fair bit of money,” Gus commented. “You sure you don’t want a chance to earn it back?”
“I’ll figure another way to earn my money,” Louis replied, then nodded to Ada. For the second night in a row he was going to reject her offerings. Somehow it just didn’t hold the same intrigue anymore. Simone could clearly create a new future for him … and that was far more interesting.
SIX
SIMONE COUNTED TEN NIGHTS since departing her childhood home. She felt hopelessly overwhelmed by the vast territory she’d already covered. Especially given the fact that nothing of civilization seemed to present itself to her.
Aching and sore, Simone stretched beneath her blanket and moaned. Never had she been forced to sleep on the ground outdoors. Her father never took her anywhere that required them to be gone from the cabin overnight, so she had always enjoyed the modest comfort of her own bed or the furry softness of the pelt shed. Now, more than ever, she questioned the sanity of her choice.
Forcing her body to obey, Simone slipped out from beneath the warmth of her blanket and met the morning chill. The sun barely touched the morning sky, fading the blackness of night into a dull, gunpowder gray. Simone couldn’t help but sigh. She’d seen skies like this before, and usually they meant snow. Shuddering beneath her coat, Simone rubbed her hands together in a desperate attempt to keep warm. She longed for a roaring fire and a decent meal, but neither were to be had in the Wyoming wilderness.
Glancing around at the scenery, Simone felt little comfort. There simply appeared to be no sign of a town or village anywhere. Her stomach rumbled and ached in a way that made her feel sick. She’d had very little to eat in the past week and a half. After the biscuits were gone, she’d turned to nature for food. She managed to shoot a rabbit but had no way to cook it. After contemplating the horror of eating the meat raw or going hungry, Simone had forced herself to eat part of the animal. She’d also skinned the scrawny thing and used the pelt to form a makeshift cap for herself.
She knew she looked a fright. Upon gazing into the icy waters of the river she’d followed for the past three days she saw her reflection, where she appeared as a hodgepodge of cultural contrasts. Indian moccasins. Woolen skirt and faded calico shirtwaist, both handmade in a previous decade. And a coat so old and threadbare that it did little to cut the harsh cold of the mountain air. Simone had taken the beautiful fox and wolf pelts she’d stolen from her father and slipped them between the lining and outer material of her coat. She thought them better used there as they helped to ward off the biting wind. She’d even taken to wearing both sets of her clothes and wrapping the blanket around her coat for extra protection. It helped, but not much. The elements were simply too harsh and unyielding. The earth didn’t care if she died in a rocky crevice or was swallowed up in an ice-packed river. The earth didn’t care, and neither did any of mankind. She was the ultimate orphan. Abandoned and forgotten by all.
She hoped
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