Chapter One
I almost made it out of Stallion Ridge without crying.
I felt fairly confident that the brewing excitement of riding the train toward the next chapter of my life would easily cloud over whatever emotion was threatening. My bags were packed with anything I couldn’t live without, mostly my favorite dresses, best shoes, the measly jewelry I had, and my emergency playtime oils. Everything else was given to Fae or passed around to the other workers in the saloon I had grown to love.
Seeing your life fit into one bag was heartbreaking. I hoped to the gods that the wrinkles in my clothes weren’t going to be permanent as I stuffed them all into one giant, ancient suitcase.
It took two days to decide which dress I was going to wear for my inaugural train ride to Worthington. I settled on my classic red with black accents with the gorgeous bustle -- which kept the doubt and sadness from creeping in.
I swore an oath the previous night that I wasn’t going to shed another tear. Fae was my dear friend, my companion whom I spent most of my time with. We met at the saloon, worked together for years, and I truly adored her. Even with me giving her my best shoes and dresses, she still cried all night with me.
We drank way too much. We cried plenty, but she also told me to be the brave bitch that she knew I was. I kept repeating that as I pulled myself together the next morning. It had become something of a mantra to keep me from turning chickenshit and returning my ticket.
Devereaux’s trains were impressive, beautiful, beastly things. The main engine was a black monster, puffing massive clouds when it wasn’t wailing like a siren. It was a strange balance to the elegant passenger cars, painted emerald with gold accents. Windows were framed with pretty lace curtains on the inside and ran the length of the long, iron-headed snake.
The mixture of oil and coal mingling with the familiar smell of early morning Stallion Ridge was confusing and surreal, like trying to read a book inside a dream. The book is in your hands, like every other day, but inside, the words are swirled together. Walking in the morning, smelling fresh bread and hearing the Thompsons’ squeaky sign was normal. The train was the swirls on the page.
And I desperately wanted to read those damn swirls.
Gibson, my favorite cyclops bartender, carried my bag to the station for me. When I saw that my Stallion Ridge boys were waiting there to send me off, it nearly broke me. I nearly ruined my perfectly put-together self, seeing them there. Thankfully, I was able to swallow it down, since I’m damn good at that, and keep the tears at bay while I gathered my farewells.
“It’s going to be strange without you being here.” Gunner, my black-clad cowboy, gave me a hug I very much missed. Before he got himself mated to a sweet, bookish darling, he and I had something of a fling. It made me beyond happy to see him domesticated with a mate and a daughter, but I still missed our romps from time to time.
“I think you’ll manage to fill your time just fine.” I gave him a wink as I pulled back from the hug and marveled at his smirk. Cooper was a lucky, lucky man to have that smirk whenever he wanted. Speaking of, said bookish darling was next to wrap up in my arms. While reserved and a touch uptight, Cooper Woodlock was wilder than he let on. Despite him being a doting father who blushed easily, I would never forget how he’d felt when Gunner and I spent a night with him.
For the sake of decency, I refrained from mentioning that at the station.
“Make sure to write us when you get to New Haven,” Cooper said as he hugged me. “So we know you got there safe.”
Such a father, even to men he’s had a threesome with. Darling man, that Cooper Woodlock.
“I will.” I kissed his cheek to see him blush one more time. He was nearly the same shade of pink as my lip stain.
“Who the hell am I going to gossip with now?” Mack seemed genuinely put out, even as he hugged me for all I was worth. If Mack was anything, genuine was the word. He was as honest as he was greedy for laughter.
I gave him the laughter he was after, which made him smile brightly.
“Your strapping demigod won’t scuttlebutt with you while I’m gone?” I eyed the tall, stone-skinned hunk wearing designer clothing standing at his side. With his fiery mane swept back into a braid and his opal-laced horns, he looked like an actual god come to life. I was told the man had a way with crystals, and I’d threatened to steal him away from Mack.
It wouldn’t do any good. Tahl watched Sheriff Mack like he was living sunshine.
“I don’t know what that means.” Tahl was looking between us.
“Gossip,” Mack explained, and Tahl furrowed his brow.
“That’s not very nice to do.”
“See?” Mack shook his head solemnly. “I’m doomed without you.”
“You’ll have your hands full being sheriff anyway.” I patted Mack’s cheek with a smile. “Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone?”
Mack shrugged, smiling his sweet, dopey smile. “No promises.”
Cody Moore was doing a terrible job hiding his watery eyes. The youngest member of the lawmen of Stallion Ridge was the little brother of all of us, including me. He was handsome and honest to the bone, and I wanted to wrap him in a blanket and keep the world away from him. It’s like his big, blue eyes gave off an innocent glow, even though I knew for a fact that he was far from boyish and sweet.
When Cody came to me asking for love advice, I was charmed. When he returned to ask about kink advice, I nearly fainted. Cody, my sweet deputy, was into some fun shit.
He made me very, very proud.
“You sure you have to leave?” he asked, voice strained just a little.
“Aw, honey.” I scooped him into my arms and squeezed, letting him hold on to me for dear life. “I’ll write you when I get there, I promise.” He gave a nod, but I could feel the tears falling onto my skin. I rubbed his back, hoping it was doing something to comfort him.
I dropped my voice to a whisper and spoke from my heart, “It’s something I have to do, sweetheart. You know nothing would pull me away if it wasn’t important.”
He dashed at his cheeks as he pulled back, mumbling an apology for getting tears on my dress. Just when I thought I was going to be able to deposit him back to his Iara (or Merman for the laymen) lover, the blue-eyed dear hit me with an emotional train.
“I’m just...really proud of you, Scarlet. And I’m gonna miss you somethin’ awful.”
“Don’t you dare make me cry, Cody Moore!” My laugh did a fabulous job curbing the sting, but my eyes did water despite my best attempts. “My eye makeup is train–ready, and I don’t have time to reapply.”
Quellin, Cody’s dark and sinful Iara beau, took my hand politely and kissed the top of it. For a former killer and notorious Widow assassin, he was all manners and posh. I’d been desperately sweet on him until Cody had snatched him up for himself.
“You mean the world to my sweet Cody. Do take care of yourself out there in the world, dear.”
I batted my eyes like I could cast a spell with them. “Oh, I certainly will, Quellin. I only hope I can find someone to take care of me like you do Cody.”
Cody turned the color of cherries, and Quellin chuckled. Before he released my hand, he pressed a small, metal square into my palm. It almost seemed like a calling card, but the thin metal was etched with a beautiful, script language I didn’t know.