Relentless by Bobbi Smith Page A

that she hadn’t seen him for a while, and she wondered where he’d gone. She was about to excuse herself and go look for him when the ladies’ choice dance ended, and Ted Anderson sought her out.
    “Come on, Dusty,” the ranch hand said. “It’s time I got a dance with you tonight! See you later, ladies,” he told the elderly women as he whisked Dusty away.
    “You’d better see me later, Ted,” Miss Gertrude teasingly called after him. “I’m expecting to dance with you myself!”
    “I’ll be back for you real soon, Miss Gertrude!” he promised.
    “I’m counting on it, young man!”
    Betty couldn’t help laughing at her outrageous friend. There was never a dull moment when Miss Gertrude was around, that was for sure, and that was why she loved her so much.

Chapter Six
    “You’re doing some serious drinking tonight, ain’t you?” remarked Sam, the bartender at the Trail’s End, as he poured Charley yet another straight shot of his best whiskey. Rowdy cowboys had been coming in all night, and Sam was used to their behavior, but he knew it was unusual for Charley to drink so heavily.
    “Sometimes a man just needs some good whiskey,” Charley said, downing the liquor and shoving the glass back across the bar for another refill.
    “What’s on your mind?” Sam knew Charley had to be troubled about something, for he’d been drinking steadily ever since he’d come in almost an hour before.
    “Nothing.” His answer was terse.
    Sam knew then there was no point in trying to get more out of him. “Aren’t you heading out again soon?”
    “In the morning—early,” Charley muttered. Then forgetting his determination to keep the news of the payroll he was carrying quiet, he offered, “I’ve got abig payroll to transport on this run, so we’re taking an extra guard with us.”
    “Good. You be careful.”
    “We will be.”
    Sam went to wait on some wild cowboys who’d just come in while Charley continued drinking. This was the first time Sam had heard of Charley carrying a payroll. He found the news interesting.
    There was a stranger who’d been drinking quietly at the far end of the bar. He’d heard Charley’s mention of the payroll and thought the news was interesting, too. Without drawing any attention to himself, he finished off his drink and left the bar, disappearing into the night.
    Grant could hear the sounds of music and revelry as he rode slowly down the main street of Canyon Springs, and he realized something was going on that night. He knew he’d have to check it out eventually, but first he wanted to stop at the saloon. He believed Jackson and his gang would be more likely to be drinking than dancing—if they’d made it to town already.
    Grant had taken off his Ranger badge before he’d reached town. For now, he wanted to blend in and go unnoticed. Les Jackson, Ugly Joe Williams and Cale Pierce were in the area or would be real soon, and he was going to be ready and waiting for them.
    Reining in near the Trail’s End, Grant tied up his horse and stood there for a moment just lookingaround. Other than the big dance that was going on, the streets seemed quiet enough, so he moved on toward the saloon. He glanced in the window before entering, wanting to make sure he wasn’t in for any surprises, but he saw no sign of the gang. Glad to have a chance to relax for at least a little while, he went in, more than ready for a drink.
    “What’ll it be?” Sam asked as he moved to wait on the tall, lean stranger who’d just come to stand at the bar.
    “Whiskey,” Grant told him, taking note of his surroundings. There were several men drinking at the bar, a few gaudily dressed saloon girls working the tables, and some gamblers playing poker in the back of the room. It looked like a typical Friday night in any saloon, though not quite as crowded as it could be.
    Sam quickly set a glass before him and filled it with the potent liquor. “You just ride in?”
    “Yeah.” Grant paid the