The Town’s Most Feared Gunslinger Risked His Life to Save a New Waitress From Outlaws — Until a Secret From Twelve Years Ago Revealed That Her Missing Father and His Missing Brother Had Vanished on the Same Night
Chapter 1
The bell above the restaurant door rang for the sixth time that afternoon.
Clara Bennett didn’t look up.
“Table four is ready.”
She carried two plates of stew across the wooden floor and placed them in front of a pair of ranchers.
“Coffee?”
The older man nodded.
“Please.”
Clara smiled.
“I’ll bring it right over.”
She had learned quickly that people in Red Hollow liked things done without questions.
Coffee hot.
Food fast.
Doors locked before midnight.
And never, ever stare at a man’s gun.
She had been in town for only three weeks.
Three weeks since she and her mother had arrived with two trunks, twenty dollars, and nowhere else to go.
Her mother had found work washing clothes.
Clara had found the restaurant.
It wasn’t glamorous.
The floor creaked.
The kitchen smoked.
The roof leaked whenever it rained.
But it was honest work.
And honest work was enough.
At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.
The restaurant door opened again.
This time, Clara looked up.
Elias Boone walked in.
He always came alone.
Dust covered his boots.
His brown hat sat low over his eyes.
A gun belt rested around his waist, worn leather holding a silver-handled revolver.
He wasn’t the biggest man in town.
He didn’t need to be.
When Elias entered a room, conversations usually became quieter.
Clara had heard stories.
He had won six gunfights.
Some said eight.
Some said ten.
Nobody seemed to know the truth.
The only thing everyone agreed on was that Elias Boone was fast.
Very fast.
He took the same seat every afternoon.
Table four.
Back against the wall.
Where he could see the entire room.
Clara approached with a cup of coffee.
“Your usual?”
Elias looked up.
His eyes were gray.
Calm.
Almost too calm.
“Coffee.”
She smiled.
“You always say coffee.”
“Because I always want coffee.”
Something about the answer made her laugh.
Just once.
Elias noticed.
His mouth almost smiled.
Almost.
She placed the cup down.
“You want anything to eat?”
“Stew.”
“That’s also your usual.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
Clara raised an eyebrow.
“That’s unfortunate.”
“Why?”
“Because life is mostly surprises.”
He looked at her for a moment.
“Then I suppose I’m already in trouble.”
Before Clara could answer, the restaurant doors slammed open.
Three men entered.
The laughter stopped.
They wore dust-covered coats and carried rifles.
The man in front had a scar across his chin.
He kicked a chair aside.
“Well.”
His eyes moved across the room.
“Look what we found.”
Clara froze.
The man walked toward the counter.
“Food.”
She swallowed.
“Of course.”
“And whiskey.”
“We don’t serve whiskey.”
The man’s smile disappeared.
“Did I ask what you serve?”
Clara’s fingers tightened around the edge of the counter.
“No.”
“That’s better.”
The man reached for her wrist.
A hand caught his arm.
Elias was standing beside him.
Nobody had seen him move.
“Don’t.”
The outlaw stared.
“Who are you?”
“Elias Boone.”
The man’s face changed.
“You the gunslinger?”
Elias said nothing.
The outlaw slowly reached toward his gun.
Elias’s hand moved toward his own revolver.
“Don’t.”
The man stopped.
Elias looked at all three.
“You came here to eat.”
He nodded toward the door.
“Eat somewhere else.”
The outlaw laughed.
“You think you’re going to scare us out of town?”
“No.”
Elias stepped outside.
“I’ll give you another choice.”
The three men followed.
The entire town seemed to hold its breath.
The duel lasted less than three seconds.
Elias shot the leader’s revolver from his hand.
Then shot the second man’s shoulder.
The third surrendered before he could draw.
The leader stared at Elias.
“This isn’t over.”
Elias holstered his weapon.
“No.”
He looked at him coldly.
“It isn’t.”
The men rode away.
Inside, Clara watched Elias return.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at her.
“Because they were bothering you.”
For the first time, Clara wondered who Elias Boone really was.
That evening, after everyone had gone home, she found something beneath table four.
A brass cartridge.
Stamped with a symbol.
A small black crow.
She picked it up.
Her father had once drawn that same symbol on the back of a letter.
A letter Clara had not seen since she was a child.
