There's No Place Like Rhodes (Book 2)

Little Girl Lost

Karen rubbed her cheek where it stung. She doubted it would bruise. She'd had run-ins with Roy before. He was a piece of work, but weak as a babe.

She'd been surprised to find Arthur appear suddenly in her defense, but honestly not shocked. He was always popping up to play hero. For a brief moment, she'd been overjoyed at seeing him here. She hadn't heard head nor tail of anyone from the gang in months.

But then Karen remembered she'd made that happen on purpose, that she'd run from them. Arthur being here couldn't be good news. She made her escape while he was pushed against the piano.

Before she left the saloon, she snatched a half full bottle of bourbon off a table and snuck out the back door, just as she heard Ollie Fink demanding to know what was going on. She shuddered, glad to have avoided that bastard entirely.

She also had to evade some Raiders congregating outside. They were uptight assholes cussing her out in the daytime, but handsy bastards after a few drinks. Karen was pissed her night had been interrupted and she didn't dare return to the saloon. If Roy somehow managed to come to after that wallop Arthur gave him, he wouldn't leave her unpunished for it.

Karen resignedly decided to play it safe and make her way back to the caravans where she was renting. She spent the next twenty minutes going between houses and stores, not even taking the time for a swig of her bourbon. She kept close to the sides of the buildings so she wouldn't be as easy to spot. It wasn't difficult. She'd been evading men since she was a teenager.

In front of the general store, she felt far and safe enough away from the saloon. She pulled the cork of the bourbon, about to take a much needed drink when a voice shouted, "Hold on!"

Karen groaned. This was not her night. She didn't bother stopping as she called over her shoulder, "I ain't got nothin' worth robbin'."

If she hadn't pawned her guns to the fence weeks ago, she'd be turning around and challenging this person with her own weapon. It'd been a stupid, stupid mistake, but she'd been desperate for cash at the time.

She'd also depleted what little she'd saved up. Worse, she had rent due now, but no means to pay. She'd be kicked out any day. She'd become as destitute as those pathetic fools Strauss always borrowed to.

"No," protested her would-be robber. "That's not my intention."

Frowning, Karen turned to find a woman she didn't recognize. No desperate beggar, but not in rich finery. That meant she had money enough for buying all the proper winter clothing, but not in luxury.

Karen knew right away she wasn't from around here. She looked like some country girl from up north, in a heavier coat than was necessary for the temperature of this area. She had hair that matched the night, her lips compressed in a determined line...

And a damn gun pointed in her direction.

She didn't look like no one Karen owed money to, which confused her. She eyed her suspiciously. "What the hell do you want?"

The other woman blinked rapidly, appearing flustered. "You...Arthur..." She sucked in a breath, seeming to gather courage. "I need your help."

Karen ain't got time for this. Soon enough, one of the Raiders would come by and she didn't plan on getting into it with another of them tonight. She turned her back on the stranger, about to walk away.

"No, wait!" the woman ordered.

Karen spun around again and laughed. "What? You gonna gun me down if I don't?"

Indecision rippled across her facial features as she balked. "Well...I..."

"You won't," Karen said mockingly and pointed. "You don't even got your goddamned revolver cocked. I bet you've never even shot someone."