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working on. “Ain’t it about time the Willows had a horse? Or even a mule?”
    Cora laughed. “I can’t see the need. We can walk anywhere we need to go, and the doctor comes to us. Most men do, you know.”
    Jupiter nodded, conceding. “I s’pose so.”
    She glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one else was in the building, then opened her reticule and withdrew a couple of dollars. “Remember that pistol you gave me last year?”
    Jupiter nodded again, his expression growing serious. He’d insisted she keep a personal weapon after there’d been a series of attacks at the wharf, and the customers were getting rowdy. Of course, the sheriff and his deputy had kept a watch on her door—as long as she lined their pockets—but Jupiter hadn’t taken no for answer, insisting she take the pistol.
    She chose her next words carefully, hoping her friend wouldn’t make the connection to Sidlow’s killing. “Well, since the sheriff hasn’t been replaced yet, I thought maybe I should keep more ammunition. Just in case. The girls and I may have to defend ourselves.”
    He scowled. “You told me you kept a loaded rifle.”
    â€œI do.” She patted his arm to soothe his ruffled feathers. “And none of us are ever alone with the clients in the parlor. But if something were to happen, leaving me by myself with a customer, I wouldn’t feel safe…”
    Jupiter turned around midway through her sentence. He stalked to a bench chest, opened it and rummaged through its contents. “Keep your money, Cora. I just want you to be safe. Lord knows, the mayor won’t do anything about our problems.” He spoke over his shoulder.
    Behind her, the iron bell sounded again. She turned around and locked eyes with the gunslinger from last night.
    In the stormy afternoon, his tall figure dressed all in black from hair to his clothing, evoked danger with the ominous gun holster peeking out from beneath his coat. She trembled involuntarily as she remembered their last encounter.
    He inclined his head in greeting with a slight smirk on his mouth, and came to stand beside her. “Well, good afternoon. We meet again, Miss Reilly.”
    She frowned, her temper rising along with the heat running up her neck. Perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea letting the gunman think he’d enjoyed her services. “Good afternoon, Mr. Wainwright.”
    Jupiter stood and turned around. “I only found five in the box. I’ll order more directly.” He extended his closed hand for her.
    Cognizant of her audience, she opened her reticule to accept the ammunition, and he dropped them inside. Unfortunately, the cartridges made a telling clatter in the bag, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Wainwright stiffen.
    â€œYour horse is almost ready, sir.” Jupiter gestured at the animal he’d been working on when she had interrupted him.
    Wainwright cast Cora another wicked smile that would make a fox envious. “That’s quite all right. I couldn’t blame a man for stopping when Miss Reilly paid him a visit.” Something in the gunman’s knowing gaze made her feel desirable and yet at the same time wish to swat him with her bag.
    Jupiter fiddled with the sides of his apron as if unsure of himself. “Yes, well, Cora and I are old friends. She was my wife’s bridesmaid.”
    Wainwright’s brows lifted.
    Cora laughed lightly and pulled her bag tightly closed. “Maribelle was a mail-order bride. She didn’t have much choice in women around here.”
    â€œShe loves you, Cora, and you know it. More people respect you around here than you realize.” Jupiter smiled, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude for her friend’s presence with Wainwright standing so near.
    Perhaps it was her recollection of the stranger’s drunken confession, or the fact that she knew how lethal he could