The other patrons must have sensed it too, because the saloon emptied, and only a couple of men were left standing among vacant chairs and tables.
“Let’s leave it. Cole, it’s time to go,” said one of the stranger’s companions in a high-pitched voice that should have come from a woman’s mouth.
The dark-eyed man—Cole—licked his lips, and when his smile crooked, the pale scar on his cheekbone became more pronounced. He might have worn silver buttons, but this calm in the face of violence meant he was one curly wolf. “I won’t move an inch until I hear an apology from these rubes! What’s the world coming to that a fellow can’t have a drink without bein’ accused of something?”
Jimmy’s eyes bulged as if they were about to pop out of his skull, and he thrashed in the hold of a man trying to stop him from approaching the strangers. “The hell did you call me, you damn windbag?”
The last of the newcomers, a young, dark-haired guy whose spurs clattered against the floor with his every step, crossed his arms on his chest. “He called you beef-headed beaver lovers who wouldn’t know cheating if their wife were bending over for a bull right next to them.”
Ned saw movement in the corner of his eye before Cole’s friend finished insulting all of Beaver Springs. Cole spun that way, revolver in hand, but refrained from pulling the trigger when the barrel pointed at Lucy, the whore who’d seen through their cooperation. Unhindered, she smashed a chair into Cole’s loud-mouthed friend so hard he collapsed straight into the arms of Arthur and the butcher. Cole didn’t have as much courtesy for the town’s men as he did for its lightskirts.
His free hand dropped to the other holster like a rattlesnake about to sink teeth into its victim’s flesh, and he shot before Ned could have exhaled.
The butcher cried out in horror and let go of the captive, falling over as his meaty hands curled around his left foot.
“Did I miss my mark? What a dang shame,” Cole said, his mouth stretched into a smile that wasn’t friendly anymore. He’d been a wolf in sheep skin all along.
Ned shouldn’t have. He knew he shouldn’t have. But he still threw the nearest bottle at Jimmy in the growing chaos, just because he could. He’d always had a grudge against the bastard, so why not use the opportunity? A knock on the head wouldn’t kill him.
The glass container followed a high arch, and by the time Ned’s palms got all sweaty, it hit the top of Jimmy’s head with a dull thud, and knocked him down instead of breaking like Ned had imagined. It was as if the scent of blood from his own cheek had awoken the devil in him.
“Goddamn it,” said the short man with the high-pitched voice and shoved at Cole, who didn’t even budge. “I’m never riding out with you again.”
The third stranger grinned, gathering himself back up, and delivered a kick to Arthur’s behind in a bid to chase him out of the emptied saloon. “Sweetheart, just admit that you love it,” he said, and sent a kiss to a whore who peeked at them from the mezzanine above before quietly disappearing in the shadows of the second floor where all the girls must have retreated.
Ned’s head spun with a mixture of delight and apprehension as he watched Cole slide both guns back into the embossed holsters hanging from his hip. He took a step closer and opened his mouth, but renewed commotion outside made him stiffen.
“Devil’s shite,” Cole groaned, echoing Ned’s own feelings about the situation.
Unlike the newcomer, Ned recognized the sheriff’s voice. One glance at the butcher’s bleeding foot told Ned what he ought to do, and he rushed up the stairs, only glancing back once he was halfway to the second floor. He couldn’t yell for the newcomers to follow him, since that would have alerted everyone to his intentions, so he did the first thing that came to his mind and winked at Cole.
The man clicked his tongue, and it must have been a well-established sign, because both of his companions followed his lead up the stairs. Ned couldn’t believe he was doing this, but by the time he reached the second floor, the frantic beating of his heart wasn’t even unpleasant. Waves of ecstasy bathed his insides, washing away the earlier anger and disappointment. Cole caught up with him, with the two men following suit, and Ned dashed down the corridor to the other side of the building, their feet thumping loudly as the sheriff shouted orders downstairs.
Ned knew this place inside out without having ever paid for time with a woman in one of the rooms. As a younger man, he’d worked here several times during spring cleaning for some additional cash, and knew a safe way out.