Ambush of the Mountain Man by William W. Johnstone

smelled faintly of pomade.
    She grinned at him. “I see you’ve changed your hair,” she said, running her hands through it and mussing it up just as she liked it.
    He blushed. “Oh, I thought I’d get a trim in honor of your arrival, so I let the barber whack a little bit off the sides.” He winced. “He put that smelly stuff in it before I could stop him, and I didn’t have time to wash it out ’fore your train was due to arrive.”
    She locked an arm in his and walked with him toward the baggage car to collect her luggage. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll heat us up some water when we get to the Sugarloaf and we’ll have a bath.”
    He turned to her, a slight flush on his face. “We?” he asked.
    She too blushed. “Of course. I have to wash the grime of my journey off, and you have to get that pomade out of your hair.” She hesitated. “If we share the bath, you won’t have to work so hard to bring extra water into the cabin,” she said, her face bright red at the brazenness of her proposal. Not that they hadn’t shared an intimate bath before. It was just that they didn’t usually discuss it out in public beforehand.
    He smiled slowly. “So, I see that you’ve missed me as much as I’ve missed you.”
    She cocked one eye up at him. “More!” was all she said, but her tone caused him to rush the porter to get her luggage and put it on the buckboard so they could get back to the Sugarloaf as soon as possible. He had some serious welcoming-home to attend to, and he wasn’t sure he could wait the few hours the trip home would take!
    Sally looked around at the crowd of people near the baggage car, hoping to see Sarah. She wanted to introduce Smoke to her new friend, but Sarah was nowhere to be seen. Oh well, Sally thought, there’d be plenty of time for that later.
    She made a mental note to tell Smoke to be sure and stop by the general store on their way out of town so she could tell Peg Jackson about the girl who wanted to work there. Peg would be ecstatic, since that would allow her more time at home with their children.
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    At that very moment, standing only a couple of dozen feet behind Smoke and Sally, Sarah put her hand in her handbag and closed her fingers around the butt of a snub-nosed Smith and Wesson .36-caliber revolver. Her eyes narrowed as she saw for the first time the man who’d killed her brother. Her heart beat fast, and she began to tremble at the sight of the monster who’d ruined her family. Perhaps it would be best to get it over with and kill him now. After all, she might never get a better chance.
    She started to pull the weapon out and put a bullet in the back of his head, but a hand closed over her arm.
    She whirled around, her hate-filled eyes glaring as Carl Jacoby whispered in her ear, “Not here and not now, Sarah. Don’t be a fool.”
    She struggled against his grip for a moment, and then she relaxed as the killing fever left her. She slumped against him and let him pull her out of sight around the corner of the station building.
    â€œYou’re right, Carl,” she said as he leaned her back against the wooden wall. “A shot in the back with no warning would be too easy for that man. I want to look into his eyes when he knows he’s about to die and tell him just why I’m going to kill him. I want him to suffer, to think about never seeing his wife again, to know what his dastardly act in Pueblo cost him.”
    Carl glanced around to make sure no one was watching. Sarah was really worked up, with her red face and animated talk. He knew he’d better get her out of sight before someone came up and asked what was going on.
    â€œCome on, Sarah. I’ve got a room reserved for you at the hotel.”
    She stopped him with a hand on his chest. Nice girls didn’t stay at hotels, especially by themselves without any other family