Page 57 of The Saloon Girl's Only Shot

“Where is she?” He roughly brushed past her and paced into the empty parlor, looking around. He even went so far as to push into the living quarters.

“Mr. Fritz!” she cried, following him, but her heart was pounding. She was reluctant to tell him no one else was here. She looked to the wagon house, willing Owen to return.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“Mavis?”

“Jane.”

“She’s not here.”

“Where is she, then? She ought to be starting work by now.”

“I don’t know.” Concern flared to life in her. “She came to visit yesterday morning, but I haven’t seen her today.”

Concern crept into her bloodstream. Jane walked around town by herself all the time. They both did. They didn’t have much choice, but this town was untamed. Everyone knew that.

“You can’t have her.” Mr. Fritz came straight up to her, face red, and waggled his finger under her nose, forcing her to retreat a couple of steps.

“I’m quite sure Jane is allowed to make her own decisions,” she said with more bravado than she felt.

“You tell Owen we are not going to make this easy on him. He should stick to mining and stay out of selling whiskey. And quit stealing saloon girls.”

“He didn’t steal me. You dismissed me,” she reminded him hotly.

“You told him to buy Mavis a stage ticket!” he shouted. “Now Jane’s gone.” He looked to the trapdoor into the cellar.

“Oh, by all means, have a look.” She waved at the floor. “Check the wagon house if you want to.”

“Jane!” he shouted, then glared at Temperance when there was only silence as a response. “She had better turn up tonight,” he warned starkly.

Thankfully, he stormed back out, but Temperance was shaking as she locked up behind him. It wasn’t just the way he had treated her. It was growing dark.

Where was Jane?

Chapter 16

“We can unload that in the morning,” Owen said of the log rounds that filled the bed of the wagon. “I’m starving.”

“Same.” Emmett hurried with him to put the horses in their stalls.

Clarence had had a busy day of peeing on every tree on the far side of the South Platte. He was eager to get into the house and relax, too, but even though he was scratching at the door, Temperance didn’t open it to let him in.

The fire was cold when Owen entered with Emmett. There was no sign of Temperance and no meal waiting for them.

“Rose?” Owen called, pushing into the parlor.

“Oh, you’re home.” Temperance was coming in the front door to the parlor. She shut and locked the door. “Why did you call me that?”

“It’s quicker to say when I’m in a hurry.” He’d been worried. “Did you run to the mercantile?” Her hands were empty.

“Only to look for Jane. She wasn’t at the trading post, either. I’m not sure where else to try.” She hung her short coat and bonnet.

“She’s not at the Bijou?” Most saloon keepers opened by midday. The girls appeared when things got busier toward dark.

“Mr. Fritz was here an hour ago,” Temperance said in a stark tone. “He thought you’d poached her because she hadn’t turned up for work.”

“That’s not like her.” Owen exchanged a sharp look with Emmett.