Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Started as a mining town, Beaver Springs had lost the majority of its inhabitants once the ore had dried out, but the population of farmers and ranchers living nearby sustained its existence, even though some of the oldest man-made structures had turned into rickety shadows of their former selves or ended up as building materials for newcomers.
He rode past the post office and the general store and headed down the main street toward the pristine white facade of the church. His uncle once joked the house of God had been established halfway to the saloon so sinners had time to think through their choices, but the sight of the cross at the entryway, or even the cemetery, triggered neither fear nor devotion in Ned’s heart.
Ned’s mother was buried here. She shouldn’t have been, but Aunt Muriel and Uncle Liam had made sure her final sin was forgotten, so she’d been laid to rest in sacred soil. He would visit her grave every now and then, but he’d had enough grief for one day. Ned answered all the customary greetings as he made his way across the creek, past the bloodhound-sized beaver statue presented to the town by an artist whom a local trapper rescued from certain death up in the mountains. It was an ugly thing, with huge teeth and bulging eyes, but nobody mentioned that fact out loud, and the statue remained the pride of Beaver Springs.
Ned stretched in the saddle when approaching the saloon at the edge of town, out of sight from people who passed through its grand ‘entrance’. The small area on the downstream end of the town, dubbed the Beaver Tail’, consisted of a brewery, a smelly fishmonger, and the saloon, which provided rooms to rent for travellers and adulterers alike.
Beaver Springs was hardly a metropolis, so visitors who weren’t traders, cowboys, or someone’s family were rare and incited curiosity. Ned was as prone to snooping as any other man, and arched his neck as soon as he saw unfamiliar horses, including a majestic warmblood, which dwarfed all other steeds hitched by the saloon.
Ned’s heart beat faster when he approached, eyes fixed on the muscular stallion whose coat was shiny and black as the darkest night. What a glorious animal it was! Tall, with long legs, large, yet not heavy like a draft horse. This one had been born to run like the wind, and surely didn’t spook easily either.
Ned didn’t think he’d ever seen a stallion this fine, and his hands itched to touch its long mane. He’d almost reached it from Nugget’s back, not even bothering to hitch his horse first, when he heard someone clear their throat.
Boots thumped against the saloon’s wooden porch, and as Ned looked up the long legs, he already knew his blunder had been spotted by the stallion’s owner. The man was clad in solid black, like a city man in mourning, and as he leaned against one of the wooden columns supporting the balconies above, one side of his open duster coat got pulled back, revealing a gun sitting at his hip.
Had this happened by chance, or was this man threatening him?
Either way, Ned swallowed, sitting still as his gaze wandered farther up the long body, to a patch of tawny skin revealed by the open collar. This man was not from around here, and Ned couldn’t stop staring at his angular face with eyes like coals and jet-black hair falling to his shoulders from under a flat-crowned hat with silver studs shining like stars from its leather trim.
Ned stalled with his hand still reaching to the horse. He could swear he recognized those eyes from… somewhere, yet he’d never met this man in his life.
“Fine animal,” he said, his heart rattling like dice in a game of high stakes. It took Ned endless seconds, but he managed to compose himself and dismounted without acknowledging the stranger again as he hitched his horse close by.
The man’s raspy laugh tickled the back of Ned’s neck, making him look back just in time to meet the smoky gaze again. “Is his name Lion?”
“No, why?” Ned eyed the tall stranger again, unable to avoid those oddly familiar eyes.
The man offered him a roguish smile, biting the side of his lip as he nodded at Nugget. “The markings on his hindquarters form the Leo constellation. My star sign,” he said and tipped his hat.
Blood drained from Ned’s face. “Nugget, ‘cause he’s golden,” Ned muttered, unable to pinpoint what about this man’s gaze made him so unsettled. The stranger was friendlier than most, so there was no reason to fret, was there?
Ned turned to catch another glance of him despite his better judgement, but paid for it with tripping over the last step up the porch. He managed to save himself from falling, but he still caught the stranger smirking as he lit himself a cigarette.