yourself mixed in with the wrong church. Ain't no priest in his right mind would tell a pretty thing like you to come down where pretty things wither and rot if they ain't trampled on first. Maybe he was aiming to make a warning out of your tale when it's through."
"His name," Victoria said after a pause, "was Father Baez."
For the first time, the woman's face grew still. In the silence that followed, Victoria smiled to herself. This woman was Cora Oglesby; no doubt about it. What's more, she'd taken the huntress off-guard.
Cora swallowed. "Well, ain't that interesting."
"It is," Victoria replied.
"Who might you be looking for?"
The young woman leaned forward slightly. "A woman he once knew. Something of a bounty hunter, I understand."
A few of the men around her laughed, but Cora's face was stone. "What makes him think she's here?"
"Such a woman would truly be a rarity," Victoria said. "There aren't too many like her, even here in the American West. Really, I might have just as easily found my way here without his help."
"It would have gone better for you if you had," Cora said. "I don't expect your woman takes kindly to being hunted. If she's got that big a reputation, mayhap she'd set on you just for having the gall to track her down."
Victoria tried to snuff out the spark of fear that Cora's words had ignited. "That would be quite impolite of her. It isn't as though I've come this far just for a chance to kill her."
Cora nodded. "There's a smart girl." She set her cards face down on the table. "I'm out this round, boys. Gonna have me a chat with our new friend. Just holler at Eli if your throats start getting dry."
Her chair skidded backward as she stood to her feet. Cora Oglesby was not tall, perhaps only an inch or two taller than Victoria. Buckskin trousers and a faded flannel shirt hung from her frame, accented by a bandana tied around her neck. Her boots thumped across the floor, and she motioned for Victoria to follow her. Steeling her nerves, Victoria trailed Cora through a door in the rear wall of the saloon.
"Hold the door a minute," Cora said. The old huntress pulled a book of matches from her shirt pocket. Striking one against the wall, she lit a lamp hanging from the ceiling. Yellow light filled the room, illuminating stacks of wooden crates and barrels. Turning back to her visitor, Cora nodded. Victoria pulled the door closed, muffling the voices of the saloon's patrons.
"Now, then." Cora folded her arms and leaned against a stack of crates. This close, Victoria could see a line of thin white scars on the other woman's cheek. "I ain't the type to toss around words when they don't need tossing. You mind telling me why you saw fit to pester poor old Father Baez just so you could get your mitts on me?"
"I have a favor to ask of you," Victoria said. She paused, waiting for the woman's harsh laugh, but it never came.
"You going to come out with it, or can I get back to my game?"
The young woman took a deep breath. "I need your help hunting a group of creatures."
"Awful long way to come just to find a big game hunter," Cora said. "Ain't you English folk got enough of your own hunters? Why bother me about it?"
"Big game hunters couldn't help me with these sorts of creatures," Victoria replied.
Cora raised an eyebrow. "What are you getting at?"
"I'm told you are skilled at killing beasts of a...supernatural nature."
"Father Baez tell you that?"
"No," Victoria said. "I first heard your name from a friend of my father's. He is a scholar at Oxford-"
Before she could finish, Cora's lips pulled back in a grin. Unlike her earlier laughter, this smile seemed born of fondness. "Well, I'll be damned. Your daddy was a friend of old King George?"
"King George?" Victoria's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow."
"That's what I called him," Cora said. "Easier on the tongue and all. Ain't nobody got the time to spit out all of James Townsend. Besides, he sure carried himself like he was royalty, so I
"His name," Victoria said after a pause, "was Father Baez."
For the first time, the woman's face grew still. In the silence that followed, Victoria smiled to herself. This woman was Cora Oglesby; no doubt about it. What's more, she'd taken the huntress off-guard.
Cora swallowed. "Well, ain't that interesting."
"It is," Victoria replied.
"Who might you be looking for?"
The young woman leaned forward slightly. "A woman he once knew. Something of a bounty hunter, I understand."
A few of the men around her laughed, but Cora's face was stone. "What makes him think she's here?"
"Such a woman would truly be a rarity," Victoria said. "There aren't too many like her, even here in the American West. Really, I might have just as easily found my way here without his help."
"It would have gone better for you if you had," Cora said. "I don't expect your woman takes kindly to being hunted. If she's got that big a reputation, mayhap she'd set on you just for having the gall to track her down."
Victoria tried to snuff out the spark of fear that Cora's words had ignited. "That would be quite impolite of her. It isn't as though I've come this far just for a chance to kill her."
Cora nodded. "There's a smart girl." She set her cards face down on the table. "I'm out this round, boys. Gonna have me a chat with our new friend. Just holler at Eli if your throats start getting dry."
Her chair skidded backward as she stood to her feet. Cora Oglesby was not tall, perhaps only an inch or two taller than Victoria. Buckskin trousers and a faded flannel shirt hung from her frame, accented by a bandana tied around her neck. Her boots thumped across the floor, and she motioned for Victoria to follow her. Steeling her nerves, Victoria trailed Cora through a door in the rear wall of the saloon.
"Hold the door a minute," Cora said. The old huntress pulled a book of matches from her shirt pocket. Striking one against the wall, she lit a lamp hanging from the ceiling. Yellow light filled the room, illuminating stacks of wooden crates and barrels. Turning back to her visitor, Cora nodded. Victoria pulled the door closed, muffling the voices of the saloon's patrons.
"Now, then." Cora folded her arms and leaned against a stack of crates. This close, Victoria could see a line of thin white scars on the other woman's cheek. "I ain't the type to toss around words when they don't need tossing. You mind telling me why you saw fit to pester poor old Father Baez just so you could get your mitts on me?"
"I have a favor to ask of you," Victoria said. She paused, waiting for the woman's harsh laugh, but it never came.
"You going to come out with it, or can I get back to my game?"
The young woman took a deep breath. "I need your help hunting a group of creatures."
"Awful long way to come just to find a big game hunter," Cora said. "Ain't you English folk got enough of your own hunters? Why bother me about it?"
"Big game hunters couldn't help me with these sorts of creatures," Victoria replied.
Cora raised an eyebrow. "What are you getting at?"
"I'm told you are skilled at killing beasts of a...supernatural nature."
"Father Baez tell you that?"
"No," Victoria said. "I first heard your name from a friend of my father's. He is a scholar at Oxford-"
Before she could finish, Cora's lips pulled back in a grin. Unlike her earlier laughter, this smile seemed born of fondness. "Well, I'll be damned. Your daddy was a friend of old King George?"
"King George?" Victoria's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow."
"That's what I called him," Cora said. "Easier on the tongue and all. Ain't nobody got the time to spit out all of James Townsend. Besides, he sure carried himself like he was royalty, so I
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