Read Online Double Mountain Crossing by Chris Scott Wilson - Free Book Online Page A

noticed. The main attraction was the amber liquid that stood in the row of bottles that lined the rear of the bar. The contents were supposed to pass as whiskey, but if the customers ever had the misfortune to observe the saloon keeper as he brewed his fiery concoction, without doubt they would have stayed thirsty. The huge vats in the cellar were filled with spring water to which he added gunpowder and black pepper, plus a liberal dosing of rattlesnake heads just to add that extra bite to the flavor. After fermentation, the brew was strained and bottled, one measure of real whiskey added to each pint to authenticate the label. It was real “Bumble Bee” whiskey—the drink with a sting in it. But it sure spilled warmth into old bones when the north wind moaned around the wooden buildings of an evening. Even if a few citizens did go down with “Jake’s Leg,” a nervous disorder resulting from bad whiskey, nobody took much notice.
    When Morgan pushed his way through the batwing doors and stood blinking in the smoky lamplight, Shuck Alison looked up from his poker hand and tipped Anne Marie the wink. She nodded briefly and strolled over to the stranger. Alison had told her all he knew of Morgan, that he had brought in six sacks of gold nuggets which meant he must be worth a couple of thousand dollars. The thought of all that money enhanced the brilliance of her smile as she walked alluringly across the room towards him.
    Shuck wasn’t often wrong, not since she’d known him at least. That had been one stormy night in one of the Butterfield stage line relay stations a couple of hundred miles southwest of Fort Smith in Texas . The trail washed out, a sea of mud, the passengers had been glad of a chance to rest, passing the long hours of the night in consultation with Lady Luck, sifting a deck of pasteboards. Only Lady Luck wasn’t having much to do with it when Anne Marie took the time to study. Already sizing up Shuck Alison as a four-flusher, she easily spied his bottom deals and false cuts, but the mark, on whom she had already set her own sights, was either blind or just plain stupid. It hadn’t been long before Alison’s smirk enlightened her. He actually wanted the Mark to accuse him of cheating so he would have a legitimate excuse to kill him, then relieve him of the money belt that made such an inviting bulge under his waistcoat.
    Alison’s intent paid off and the duped card player had forced a showdown, then Anne Marie had seen the devastating results of the gun skill Alison had carefully nurtured. Even before the man was cold he had stripped him of his wealth and stolen a horse to vanish into the rainy night.
    She had run into him again a few towns further along and made sure this time he noticed her voluptuous curves she so amply displayed. Eventually, mutual greed had formed a bond between them. He had never once said he loved her, even in those vulnerable moments in bed, but then she never expected that of any man, let alone him. But they had come to an arrangement. When there were no easy marks for him to hit they fell back on her ability to earn a living in that most ancient of professions, and whenever she was entertaining a client, he was always near in case trouble occurred. She had seen the face of a girl down Tucson who’d had a broken bottle stuck in her face by a customer who had accused her of lifting his bankroll while he slept. Even after the doctor had done his best to patch her up, she had still been the most hideous woman Anne Marie had ever seen. It had been the end of her career. The memory of that disfigured face still made Anne Marie shudder. With Shuck around, that would never happen to her. Besides, if they hit it lucky with this prospector and they rolled him good, they’d have a big stake and she would never have to endure the foul breath or sweaty body of another man who paid for the brief use of her body.
    She was still young,