Tombstone Ranch

Description

Tombstone Ranch – Shayne Carmichael

Jake Mathers of Tombstone, Arizona, circa 1881, a young man who—more often than not—tended to float around local bars for rounds of cards, gambling, & whiskey. Through a sudden, dark turn of events when visiting his brother in Boston, however, he also found himself to be Jake Mathers of Tombstone, Ephesia, circa 2281.

Jake had kept hard at work, choosing to keep his distance from most people to protect himself and them. But when an interesting, new face turned up at Tombstone Ranch, looking to work, he found himself letting his guard down. What will become of this new face—will he stay, even when given reasons to leave?

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EXCERPT:

1881 Tombstone, Arizona

The stranger from the east arrived on the late evening stagecoach. Jake sat at the table, dealing a round of cards as he entered. Looking up, he noticed the fine gentleman dressed all in black. His eyes traveled over the front of the man, imagining the body beneath. When Jake looked at the man’s face, he found a pair of mesmerizing dark eyes staring back at him.

Disconcerted by his own immediate response, Jake forced his attention back to the other man at his table. When he finished dealing the cards, he looked at his own hand. The king on top was good, but the three on the bottom wasn’t worth a damn. He’d need another card.

“Call em, my boy.” Raymond grinned as he waited for Jake to decide.

Immediately, Jake knew from Raymond’s grin he was all set and didn’t want any more cards. Drawing the next card from the deck, Jake laid down a nine. His hand had gone over.

“Your pot, Raymond.” Disgruntled, Jake gathered up the cards.

“‘Nother round, Jake?” Raymond asked as he gathered the money to his side of the table.

“Nah.” He stacked all the cards then laid them down in front of Raymond. When Jake looked toward the bar, he saw the stranger still watched him. As casually as he could, Jake got up and headed toward the bar counter.

“On a losing streak tonight, Jake?” The bartender asked as he set a glass down on the counter then filled it with a shot of whiskey.

Jake grabbed the glass and downed the shot, ignoring the question. With a laugh, Robert set the bottle down in front of Jake. Straddling the stool, Jake poured another drink before he turned to look at the man still eyeing him. “You want something?”

“Are you Jake Mathers?”

The cultured voice had a slight accent, and Jake figured the guy might be English. “Who wants to know?”

“I’m William Tolliver. Your brother Jason sent me to find you.”

Inwardly, Jake stiffened. What the hell did his brother want now? Laying a gold piece on the counter, Jake grabbed the bottle then stood up. “Upstairs. In my room.”