High Noon: A Sweet Romance (Red Canyon Series Book 3)

by Laura Westbrook

  “I don’t think you could afford me.” She tapped the tip of the parasol on the floor, like a rattlesnake shaking its tail.

  He held up his hands. “I didn’t intend any offense, mind you. Maybe you’re not on duty at the moment. It’s just, given your current profession, I didn’t think you’d object.”

  She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind when one of the men sitting at a nearby table raised his voice.

  “I didn’t know you were a cheating sack of manure. Otherwise I would’ve never played with you.” He wasn’t yelling, but he wasn’t quite speaking either—that type of loud theater speaking that carried to the back of the room, and the type that sounded too deliberate to be spontaneous.

  The man across from him threw his cards down. “I ain’t never cheated a day in my life. You Montana drifters think you can come down here and have the run of the town. You can head out, but leave your money.”

  Everything seemed to happen at once. The man who had spoken last reached underneath the table for his hip holster. The Montana drifter couldn’t see from that angle, but he seemed to guess, as he gripped that side of the table and lifted it up, flipping it so hard that the other end landed in the other man’s lap. He moved out of the way at the last second to not have it in his lap.

  Coins flew everywhere, even one going as far as hitting Lynn’s dress and clattering to the floor. The scene had started, and Lynn had no idea what was going to happen next.

  Chapter Five

  While the cowboy struggled to get out from under the seemingly heavy table, another stepped in and swung for the Montana drifter, who easily side-stepped it and threw a punch of his own. That one landed, and the assailant staggered backward, but only long enough to regroup before launching again, this time throwing his body into the effort.

  After struggling against each other for some time, the man with the table finally pushed it off him, which took a suspicious amount of time, convenient enough for him to rejoin the fight at just the right moment. Now clear of the obstacle, he reached for his pistol again, but slightly too late.

  The drifter spotted this and pulled out his own pistol, which for some reason, he hadn’t even considered yet. In one smooth motion, the drifter pulled the trigger. A loud pop filled the room, blanks of course, and it was all over.

  Remembering that she needed to be reacting to all this, she clasped her hands to her chest in a show of shock that would impress any acting coach. She glanced around to see if anyone noticed her pristine attempt, but nobody had. Everyone was focused on the main characters. Figures.

  The wounded man’s face grimaced in pain. He really sold it. Lynn wasn’t sure how she might act out something like that. She’d fractured a finger once when she’d fallen out of a tree, but that was the closest she’d come to something like that.

  Two other men in the room reached for their pistols, but the drifter swung his around the room, pointing it at anyone who could be a threat—anyone not in the audience, anyway. He spoke in a clear voice.

  “Now nobody make any sudden moves or go off to tell the sheriff. We’re going to keep this nice and easy, and everything will turn out just fine.”

  Everyone seemed to forget about the wounded man except for Rayleigh. Lynn wasn’t sure what her back story was or why her character was at a saloon, but she rushed forward and pressed a wad of fabric against his chest. That seemed like a rather knowledgeable moment for a person who wasn’t a doctor to apply pressure to a wound, but who knew what random citizens had known about medicine back then. Maybe more than she thought.

  “Now, I need everyone to empty your pockets,” the drifter continued. “Nice and easy. I don’t want any more trouble. And nobody try anything fast, or else you’ll join your friend here.”

  Lynn would’ve been surprised if the scene let the man die. This wasn’t a kids’ park per se, but families probably made up most of the clientele. Gunshots were one thing, but death might be a little too edgy. Not that she was the expert on performances, or even wanted to be.

  The drifter meandered around the room and collected the room’s valuables. He used a small burlap sack—appearing out of thin air—to scoop everything up. Men started removing their pocket watches and coins and Rayleigh removed her prop rings. The drifter paused when he stood in front of Lynn, who hadn’t moved yet.

  “Well?” he said. “You aren’t wanting trouble, are you?”

  This was the moment. If she ever wanted to hijack the story, now would be it. She didn’t have a prop weapon handy, but she possibly could have tried to disarm the villain or make a move for another pistol nearby. The drifter probably wouldn’t expect a background character to do anything, least of all her.

  Finally, she reached into a pocket sewn into her clothes and pulled out a necklace, holding it out in front of her with a sigh of resignation. She’d do it the boring way. It was just a prop item, of course. She’d never put up something she owned. Who knows if she’d get it back.

  The man grabbed it out of her hand. There really wasn’t a good reason why a woman would keep a necklace inside her pocket and not around her neck, but it worked well enough for the scene. The drifter continued down the line and enjoyed the spoils. Some of the audience members whispered to each other as he neared the end.

  “What else you got?” the drifter asked a man on the very end.

  “Nothing,” the man said with a tremble in his voice. “I gave you all the coins I had.”

  The drifter paced around behind him and kicked the back of the man’s thigh, forcing him to the ground. The man brushed off his hands but stayed on his knees. With the ankle of the man’s boots revealed, the drifter reached into one of them and pulled out a knife. Even from that distance, Lynn could tell there was ornamental work along the hilt.

  “That’s all the coin you had,” the drifter said, “but you had more silver on you. Now, nobody move. I’ll be right outside, so if I see anyone scratch an itch, I’ll see it through the windows. You there, count to a hundred for everyone. Once you hit that, people can move. Until then, you’re all statues. That’s right, statues.” He chuckled at his own joke.

  Right as he turned to the front door, which was still hanging wide open to let in the customers, a voice called through, strong and clear. “I’m going to need you to put down your pistol, leave it on the floor, and hand back every item you stole.”

  Luke walked through the door frame, dressed in the same outfit as yesterday and looking every bit the part of a sheriff. His hat was pulled down low to shield the sun, and as he raised it, his eyes scanned the room, taking stock. As he waited for a response, he pulled back his overcoat to reveal his own holster. He didn’t move for it yet, but it was clear just how accessible it was.

  “How long have you been trackin’ me?” the drifter asked. “I’ve felt your shadow since Salt Lake City.”

  Luke shook his head. “Didn’t have to. I could smell your stench the moment you stepped foot into town. I bet you didn’t think the last town you stopped in would wire us ahead of you. I’d guess that horse in front of the hotel isn’t yours. At least, not before you stole it.”

  Luke’s performance oozed confidence, and Lynn couldn’t help but lean forward every time he talked. She wondered what his stubble would feel like against her cheek as she held around his waist for dear life as they galloped off into the sunset together. If there was a horse available, and if she knew how to ride one, they could’ve worked that into the performance. She wasn’t the type to be a real damsel in distress, but for him, she could play one.

  The drifter slowly placed the sack onto the table. He straightened and turned back to Luke, who hadn’t moved a muscle the entire time.

  “This is your last warning,” Luke said. “Pick up your pistol with your thumb and your small finger and place it on that table. If you dream of doing anything else, I’ll still arrest you, but it’ll be with a few new holes.”

  “Only if you’re faster than me,” the drifter said.


  Pretty ballsy, she thought, getting caught up in the scene. She resisted the urge to get herself captured just so Luke could save her, even if it was only Luke’s character who cared about her safety.

  Both faced each other, essentially staring down the barrel of each other’s gun, whether they were drawn yet or not. If they were as fast as their real-life counterparts, either could be mortally wounded within seconds. The drifter’s hand drew closer to his gun, yet Luke remained still.

  A wood plank creaked somewhere behind Lynn as someone shifted their weight, and that seemed to launch the action with the drifter’s hands snaking out and grabbing the handle, trigger first. But by the time he brought it out of the holster, Luke, with lightning speed, had already pulled his out and aimed it true.

  Three shots fired, with the palm of Luke’s other hand pulling back the hammer in-between. After the first two hits, the drifter raised his pistol harmlessly into the air, and after the third, he fell backward, careful to land in a way that didn’t injure him or anyone else.

  Lynn wasn’t sure if they were supposed to or not, but the crowd erupted into cheers. At the same time, the face characters joined in, making it difficult to know if one started the other. Several face characters came over and clapped Luke on the back, thanking him for keeping the law.

  Rayleigh even gave him a kiss on the cheek. For all Lynn knew, it was a scripted part of the show, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. If she knew that was an option, she might have tried it herself and blamed it on her character.

  Lynn remembered that part of the performance was supposed to be when the men and women paired up to walk arm and arm out of the building and down the street as an exit strategy sort of thing. If they didn’t, as it had been explained to her, all face characters would be monopolized in one area, keeping the customers in other areas of the park from enjoying them, too.

  Lynn looked around for the man she’d been paired with, a tall, lanky guy with reddish hair. She finally spotted him walking toward her from across the room, which seemed odd. If they were paired together, shouldn’t he be closer? She realized it wasn’t a perfectly natural situation, as they all exited in a choreographed manner, but still, if they were to be paired together, they should give the pretense of being nearby and familiar with each other.

  As she looked at him, her vision was suddenly blocked by another man, the gentleman of the hour, Luke. He made a half-bow and while still slightly bent over, he offered out his elbow for her. Without even glancing at the other guy, she took it, folding her arm around his. She could feel the tightly corded muscles along his forearm as he held it aloft for her. As she couldn’t help herself, she gave it a small squeeze when she thought he wouldn’t notice, just to give it an extra test. Her fingertips barely sunk in at all.

  “Don’t worry about the other guy,” Luke said. “He’ll find someone else.”

  “That might be hard when there are only a few women here,” Lynn said. Not that she cared about the other guy, but it was fun to say anyway.

  He smiled, and the room got a little brighter. “He’s new. He doesn’t have seniority yet.”

  They walked through the front door, past the audience members on the benches. The park employee who wasn’t a face character kept the audience seated until the procession passed.

  “Is that how you decide which guy gets which girl?” Lynn asked. “Maybe I want to decide who I walk with.”

  Luke stared straight ahead and stepped down two wooden steps with her. Thankfully, there weren’t any customers within earshot, so they could continue talking. “Seniority just means I can make the offer. It’s up to you to decide. I’m glad I tried, and I’m glad you accepted.”

  The way he deftly answered her question impressed her enough to lower her guard back down a bit. She had to admit, he was awfully charming. “What brought you to want to offer?”

  “We got interrupted when we talked last. We like to make every new person feel accepted and welcome.”

  She had to know, so she asked. “I see. Does every new person get the red carpet treatment?”

  “Only those as pretty as you.” As he turned back to look at her, the light reflected off his blue eyes, reminding her of the ocean in one of those tropical paradises on TV.

  She turned away. She wasn’t exactly the blushing type, but she didn’t want to take chances. “Thank you.” She thought of a way to change the topic—not that she didn’t enjoy flattery, just that she wasn’t used to it. “That was a good performance back there. You’re pretty convincing.”

  “I appreciate that,” he said. “To be fair, I’ve had a lot of practice. They gave me the character of the sheriff a few months after I started here, and I’ve had it ever since. It’s pretty fun. Sometimes I even get to lock people up at the jail. There are a few cells with iron bars at the sheriff’s office. But if they bribe me with candy bars, I usually let them off for good behavior.”

  She laughed. He was much easier to talk to than she’d thought. “I can see how the part would be addicting. If I were the sheriff, I’d probably always wear the star, even putting it on my pajamas at home.”

  The procession passed by two guests walking hand-in-hand, and Luke waited until they were out of earshot before he continued. Lynn couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to walk the same way with Luke. Their arms touching was close enough for the moment, but she had a vivid imagination.

  “It’s definitely not on my pjs when I go to bed, but I do like wearing it. Maybe I could talk to the prop department and see if I can get you one. You know, like an honorary deputy.”

  “Aren’t there already two of those?”

  He waved his other hand like it was no big deal. “One of them is bound to quit or retire at some point. I think you’d make a better one, anyway. Maybe our Old West town was ahead of its time.”

  That did sound like fun, but it probably wasn’t something the director, or Samuel, would go for. Still, it was a nice thought. A glance back showed the original guy she was supposed to walk with far back down the line, by himself in his row. She might’ve felt sorry for him if she wasn’t walking with Luke.

  As the procession turned a corner in the road, the saloon disappeared from sight. Ahead of them was the long stretch to one of the side entrances and a second, smaller food court. One by one, people peeled off as they reached the spot where they could move onto the next performance or station, but she noticed that Luke made no move to stop. They walked another dozen or two steps longer than they needed to, and to Lynn, that made all the difference.

  Chapter Six

  Lynn tried to ignore the phone call, but whoever it was had called twice. Telemarketers usually didn’t bother. They just went for the low hanging fruit.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s me, Vanessa. What are you doing right now?”

  “Just at home. It’s my day off.”

  Lynn heard Vanessa swear on the other end. That was the first time that had happened, at least when Lynn had been around.

  “What’s wrong?” Lynn asked. “You sound flustered.”

  “Sorry, yeah I am. Trying not to be. It’s just one of those days. I know this is a lot to ask you, but would you be available to come in to work a bit this afternoon?”

  “Today? Did something happen?”

  “Sorta. I mean, yes. Something pretty big, and I’m calling everyone I can think of. Or going to. You’re the second person I called, to be honest. I’ve got a list in front of me.”

  Lynn sorted through her plans in her mind before remembering there weren’t any. Still, coming in on her day off didn’t sound all that appealing either. “Is it an emergency?”

  “Pretty much. Nobody’s hurt or anything, but it’s urgent. Please? I got the go-ahead from Samuel to bring in anybody to help, other than management, that is. You’ll be on the clock and everything.”

  Lynn glanced at the time on her microwave. Even if she were to create plans just for the sake of having them, it wouldn’t b
e until later. She didn’t plan on doing much of anything at home, so she supposed getting paid was better than not getting paid.

  “Do I have to wear a costume for it?” Lynn asked.

  “No, of course not. I mean, I guess you didn’t know, so it’s a fair question. But no, you can come in your plainclothes. We’ll just be working in the office.”

  In the office? What sort of office emergency could she possibly have? With a sigh, she brought the phone receiver back up. “Okay, I’ll come in. How long do you think we’ll be?”

  “Not very long, I promise. Maybe only two hours. Or three. Probably.”

  It must’ve been a pretty serious situation for Vanessa to sound that frazzled. She was a friend, and it was the right thing to do.

  “That’s fine,” Lynn said. “I’ll see you in about a half-hour. Maybe a little sooner if I can find my keys.”

  “Thank you! This really means a lot to me. I owe you one. I’ll tell you all about it when you come in.”

  Lynn expected no less than a full explanation and a juicy story on what the emergency could possibly be. On the drive over, conspiracy theories swirled in her mind, anything from the sale of the company to Vanessa finding a dead body. Lynn wanted nothing to do with the latter, and the former probably meant she didn’t have to come in at all, present or future. Hopefully, it was something a lot more boring than that. The more boring it was, the quicker she could get out of there and go back to pretending she had a busy social life.

  She had an entirely new perspective as she walked in through the front entrance. Face characters littered the street as usual, but before, she wouldn’t give them a second glance. Now, they were her people. She noticed more things about their costumes, their appearances, even down to the way they walked.