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arrest her. Within a month — mebbe less — Wyoming Territory will be a much safer place.”
    “Why’s that?”
    “‘Cause, I got a posse that’s gonna get the Wildcat where she lives. We’re gonna clean out her entire nest of thieves and cutthroats.”
    “Won’t that be dangerous?”
    The two other men moved from the doorway out onto the porch, stopping at the rail to stare out at the camp, apparently uninterested in the reporter’s pursuit of a criminal.
    “‘Course it’ll be dangerous. But I’ll succeed because unlike all the other men hunting for the Wildcat, I’ve studied the woman’s movements and behavior. I’ll draw my net so tight; she’ll never get past me.”
    Kiera had to wonder what exactly he’d studied. She’d never been to Laramie. On the few occasions when she’d fired a pistol in practice, her shots had fallen so far wide of the mark that Muh’Weda had shaken his head in disgust. He’d taken the pistol away from her, saying she couldn’t hit a buffalo if it was standing on top of her. If she’d murdered anyone, it hadn’t been by shooting them in the back. She might have planned and executed a few shady escapades — love, or what passed for it to a naïve young woman, could lead that woman to do many foolish things. She disagreed that returning horses to their original owners was the same as horse stealing, and she left the firearms to those with more experience and better aim. As to murder, well, the less said the better, but if caught, she might honestly be unable to plead completely innocent, and contrary to the implications of the poster, honesty was important to her.
    “Er, how many men are hunting the Wildcat?”
    “Oh, seven or eight. Among ‘em are a US Marshal, a couple bounty hunters, and one reporter — that’s me,” he said and puffed out his scrawny chest. “Also, a squad of soldiers from Fort Sanders, and that don’t include my posse.”
    “So many all for one woman.”
    “One woman who’s killed and robbed for too long. Dang female’s left a trail of destruction from here to San Francisco.”
    “I’ll sleep much better, knowing you’re on the job. Will you be leaving soon?” She fluttered her lashes at him. His type would see the silly move as flattery.
    “Soon’s the rest of my men arrive. Should be any day now.”
    “Dear me, I certainly don’t want to risk encountering this desperado. Which direction did you say you’d be tracking her?”
    “Didn’t say. But if I was you, I’d not head east from here. Heard the Wildcat’s got it in for some ranchers and railroad men outta Rawlins.”
    “Oh what a blessing, sir.” She fanned herself, imitating relief. “Our ranch is straight southeast of here, and I’ll be heading back immediately. My mother-in-law is coming to visit. I only came up to Camp Brown for extra supplies.”
    He cast a distracted glance beyond her, squinting as if his eyesight were bad. “You go south for a day or so ‘fore you cut east, you prob’ly won’t have no trouble ma’am. There’s one of my boys now. If you’ll excuse me.”
    “By all means, sir. Thank you for your kind advice and good luck. We need more heroes like you willing to risk life and limb to keep the territory safe.”
    He doffed his bowler and moved past her down the steps, striding across the dirt to the opposite side of the camp.
    She watched him leave and approach a man in a creased hat, black flannel shirt and well-worn denims with a wicked looking six shooter in a holster hanging against his left thigh. After removing his saddle bags, the man in denims gave his horse over to a stable hand. Kiera noted the careful way the fellow manipulated the bags with only his right hand, leaving his left hand free to pull that pistol at any time. That, and the way his narrow-eyed gaze constantly shifted, keeping watch on all movement, fairly shouted GUNSLINGER!
    Kiera shivered. That reporter, Salter, didn’t bother her one whit, but if the other men