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known you were here I would have been down hours ago.’
    Ned watched uncomfortably as the redhead kissed his companion full on the mouth, pressing her lush body hard against him.
    Luke stood and swept the whore up into his arms. She squealed happily as he took the stairs two at a time, bearing her off to the closest bed.

Six
    â€˜You don’t look like you at all,’ Adam said.
    â€˜I should hope not. You remember what we talked about?’
    â€˜You’re a boy.’
    â€˜That’s right.’
    â€˜Even though you’re a girl.’
    â€˜But no-one, apart from you, me and Vicky, knows I’m a girl.’
    â€˜I like you better as a girl.’
    â€˜I’ll be a girl again when we get to Oregon.’
    â€˜Promise?’
    â€˜Promise. By then I’ll be desperate for a bath,’ she said dryly, regarding her filthy skin. ‘But for now we need to get organised. I’ll meet you both downstairs.’
    â€˜Where are you going?’ Victoria asked sharply.
    â€˜I’m going to get the name of that wagon maker off Mr Slater.’ Victoria’s lips thinned in disapproval, but Alex ignored her. ‘Don’t forget to keep the gold with you,’ she told her sister, ‘put it in your bodice, where it’ll be safe.’ Alex had divided the gold into smaller bags. The bag with the most money went to Victoria, one was squirreled away in their bags, and the other was hidden under a loose floorboard beneath the bed. Victoria wore a padded bodice (she didn’t have much up top and was sensitive about it) and so the outline of the bag was well disguised. Alex didn’t carry one herself. If the Gradys found her, she had to be ready to run, and she had no intention of taking the money away from Victoria and Adam. She jammed the hat on her head. But if she had her way that wouldn’t happen. Not if Slater pointed her in the direction of a strong wagon and a competent captain.
    Alex couldn’t deny that she was excited at the thought of seeing Luke Slater again. Deep down, she knew she could find a wagon maker without his help; she was simply fabricating a reason to seek him out.
    She all but skipped down the stairs to the front desk, where Ralph Taylor sat with a cup of burned-smelling coffee and a two-week-old paper that had just arrived on the riverboat. ‘I need to speak to Luke Slater,’ she announced in her best low-pitched boy-voice. The hotelier didn’t bother to look up from his paper.
    â€˜He didn’t come back from Dolly’s last night. I dare say you’ll find him there.’
    â€˜Dolly’s?’
    â€˜At the end of the street turn left, go three blocks, make a right, and you won’t miss it.’
    â€˜Thanks. Could you tell my sister where I’ve gone when she comes down?’
    He grunted, which she took for an assent.
    Outside, it was a spectacular spring morning of pale blue and yellow-green. Even the dusty street looked pretty in the fresh golden sunlight. Alex put on the battered brown hat and shoved her hands deep into her pockets.
    It was mighty odd being out in the world as a boy. At first she felt dreadfully self-conscious. It was like being out in public in her underwear. Except that the layer of filth made her feel safely anonymous, and after a block or so she found herself loosening up. Her gait changed, becoming less of a glide and more of a stride. She looked around and gained even more confidence when she realised that no-one was taking any notice of her.
    She liked not having to worry about keeping the hem of her skirt out of the muck and she liked the way she could take deep breaths without her stays. All in all, being a boy wasn’t too bad.
    She stopped dead when she rounded the corner and caught sight of Dolly’s. It was impossible to miss the sprawling two-storeyed building that was more than a little crooked. There was an eye-catching sign out the front: ‘Dolly’s