Friday night was a big night out for ranch hands, and the saloon would be busy. "I'm sorry. Pay me no mind."

"It's all right. Vance is just getting over one injury. You have a right to be nervy."

Mae sat down with a weary sigh. "I can't see how anything she's planning to do will make a difference." She met Kate's gaze. "If I wanted to walk away from all of this, I could. It might be hard, but others have done it."

"Has she asked you to?"

Mae looked surprised. "No. Never."

"Then I don't expect that's what's behind her intentions. I have always been under the impression your safety was what concerned her."

"I explained to her about looking after the girls. She understood that."

Kate nodded.

"I explained to her about not wanting to be beholden to anyone.

That I make my own way."

"I imagine that Vance would respect that."

"She does," Mae said quietly. "In fact, everything would be just fine if she hadn't decided that Michael Hanrahan needs a lesson taught to him."

Kate set her teacup aside. "I think we both know it's more than that."

"Lord, I do know." Mae pushed impatiently at an errant curl that fluttered around the corner of her mouth. "I just wish I knew what else she plans to do."

"If I knew, I'd tell you," Kate said reassuringly. "All I know is she and Jessie talked about meeting in the saloon tonight at midnight. I think they're hoping to follow Michael Hanrahan and get some information that they can use to negotiate with whoever owns this place."

Mae laughed harshly. "Negotiate? Is that what Vance said?"

"Well, not exactly, but that's what I assumed."

"Oh, honey, back East folks might negotiate. Out here? The only thing that changes anything is money or bullets."

"Perhaps I misinterpreted," Kate said worriedly. "But I have a feeling that Jessie understood Vance perfectly."

v Vance leaned her back against the bar and watched Mae work her way through the crowded room in her direction. Every few steps a cowboy or gambler in fancy clothes would stop her with an arm around her waist and whisper something in her ear. She'd laugh and deftly extract herself from his grasp and move on. She was an expert at avoiding wandering caresses without giving affront. It was a talent, like those sleight-of-hand magic shows. Her smile was so brilliant, her laugh so alluring, that the men never realized they had never once truly touched her.

"You look like you're studying on something very serious," Mae said as she stepped close to Vance's side. She'd been aware of Vance's eyes on her since the moment she'd stepped out onto the balcony and started down the stairs. She'd also known that Vance could see every hand that touched her on her journey. "Something wrong?"

"I wonder if any of them knows how much they've just missed?"

Mae's heart gave a little jump of surprise and wonder. "You don't look at the world like anyone else I know."

Vance smiled faintly. "I've been told that before." She traced a fingertip down the sleek curve of Mae's arm, exposed below the narrow shoulder of her maroon gown. "You're an amazingly beautiful woman.

But your true beauty lies somewhere no one touches."

"Except you," Mae murmured.

"Except me." Vance watched Mae's full, moist lips curve with pleasure. "I want to kiss you."

"I'm glad, but I wouldn't recommend it." Mae angled her body to block the view of anyone in the room and slid a hand inside Vance's coat. She caressed her, fingers dancing over her stomach. "If they saw how it was really done, they'd figure out they're being cheated."

"Not cheated," Vance said, her voice rough with desire. "Not if they've put one finger on you."

"You keep talking like that, and I'm--" Mae broke off as an arm came around her waist and tugged her roughly backward, away from Vance. She knew who it was without needing to see his face. "Is that any way to say hello?"

Michael Hanrahan pulled Mae against him and held her there. He bent his head and rubbed his stubbled cheek over her neck. With his mouth against her ear and his hand roaming over the front of her body, he muttered, "You don't look like you're real busy."

"The night is young and I was just getting started." Mae kept her voice light and her expression unconcerned, because she could feel Vance's fury from three feet away. She pointedly did not look at her, because she was afraid that any connection between them now would break Vance's fragile restraint. Instead, she turned as much as she could in Hanrahan's grasp, putting her back to Vance. "There's a full house tonight. Let's take care of your business so I can take care of mine."

Hanrahan grabbed Mae's hand and pressed it down on the front of his pants. "How about we take care of that business."

Mae didn't try to pull away, but met his hot gaze coolly. "I don't remember that being part of the arrangement."

"Nobody has to know."

"But I might forget myself and mention it."

His expression hardened, and he pushed her away. "Let's go upstairs."

When Vance started after them, she was brought up sharply by an iron grip on her shoulder. She whirled around, her eyes aflame.

"You don't want to be getting in the middle of that," Frank said.

"You might end up satisfied, but Mae will pay for it."

"Not if he's dead," Vance said through clenched teeth.

"If he's gonna be dead, it would be better if no one knew just how that came about." He busied himself wiping nonexistent spills from the bar. "Could be I might lend a hand there."

Vance blew out a long breath and reined in her temper. "Appreciate it. But I think I'll keep you for the heavy work."

He grinned. "Still, you might want company."

"That's been arranged."

"Has it now?" He nodded approval. "Well then, stop around for a drink when you're finished."

"I'll do that."

When Vance scanned the room and balcony, Mae was gone. She'd taken Hanrahan to her room to give him the money that she and the other women earned. If that's all that was happening up there, he would be coming down soon. Vance motioned for Frank to fill her glass, which he did. She picked it up with a steady hand and drank it down in one fast swallow, welcoming the sharp burn that settled in the pit of her stomach. Then she placed the glass on the bar and walked out.

v Vance waited in the shadows beneath the stairs that led to the second floor and Mae's rooms. She didn't think about what was happening upstairs, because if she did, she'd go upstairs and finish things before they even started. And in the end, she would accomplish nothing. She wished for a cigarette, something she hadn't wanted since waiting in the dark for the last battle. She didn't need to look at her watch. She knew what time it was. The night felt empty, devoid of life.

Nothing stirred. Even the horses tethered in front of the saloon stood silently, their heads down, their breath streaming soundlessly through flared nostrils beneath the moonless sky.

Almost fifteen minutes passed before the door above her opened and boot heels thudded on the wooden staircase. She slid her revolver from the holster but did not cock it until he reached the ground. Then she stepped up behind him, forced the muzzle to the back of his neck, and thumbed the hammer.

The sound cut through the stillness like cannon shot.

Hanrahan stiffened.

"Hello, Michael," Vance said quietly.

The man relaxed slightly as if he recognized a woman's voice.

"You might want to put that away before someone gets hurt."

His tone suggested that Vance would be the one to suffer. She laughed and pushed it harder into his skin. The pain forced him to stumble forward a step, and she shoved him face first against the wall with her hip. She pinned him with her left shoulder, welcoming the pain as it seared through her brain and cleared her head. Then she dropped the gun from the back of his head and forced it between his legs. She angled the barrel up and forward until it met resistance.

"Do you like it here better?"

Her voice was soft and cold, a sliver of ice slipping into his heart.

He shivered and gasped, but didn't move. "What do you want?"

"To teach you some manners."

"Wha--" He grunted as the gun barrel stabbed into his tender parts. "I don't know--ow--Jesus--"

Vance jammed him harder into the wall and whispered in his ear.

"You don't know how to treat a lady. I think this"-- she jerked the gun barrel into him again and smiled in satisfaction when he whimpered-- "might be getting in the way of your social skills." She saw Mae's face, battered and bruised. Saw the marks on her arms and imagined the stinking weight of Hanrahan's body pinning her down. She took a breath, savoring the moment. "So I'm going to relieve you of it."

Hanrahan pleaded. "Jesus, no."

"This is for Mae," she whispered as she tightened her finger on the trigger.

Jessie stepped away from the building where she'd been standing in the dark for over an hour, waiting to back up Vance in case of trouble.

In a conversational tone she said, "He hardly seems worth wasting good lead on."

"Everything's fine here," Vance said without looking around.

"You go on."

"How you doing, Hanrahan?" Jessie continued as if Vance hadn't spoken.

"She's crazy. Get her off me," he said desperately, the stench of fear permeating the air around him.

"It's a big country out here," Jessie said. "Lot of mining camps where a man could disappear to."