A Big Sky Christmas by William W. Johnstone, J. A. Johnstone

what it sounds like, Jake. Swint would kill anybody who tried that. We’ve talked about things like this before.”
    â€œYeah, and I haven’t changed my way of thinkin’ about it, either.” An easy grin flashed across Jake’s face. “But shoot, don’t worry about it. I’m just talkin’, is all. I’d never go against a pard.” He paused. “The thing of it is, Eldon ain’t really a pard. He’s the boss.”
    Bodie changed the subject. “Are you going to that show tonight?”
    â€œTo see some singin’ and dancin’ girls? You bet I am! We’ve been out on the trail long enough I’m ready for some entertainment.”
    They had stopped by the theater on their way to the café. The place was closed, but Bodie and Jake had stood on the boardwalk in front of the building, looking at the posters tacked up next to the ticket window. The posters had drawings of the members of the troupe on them, and Bodie had been particularly intrigued by one of them, a young woman with a mass of dark, curly hair.
    Miss Savannah McCoy, her name was, according to the poster.
    He didn’t know which parts she played in the show, but he was looking forward to finding out. Thinking about her and the performance they were going to watch that night made him forget all about the fortune in double eagles for the time being.
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    Even though she had been a member of the troupe for more than a year, Savannah still got nervous before each performance. The butterflies, as Cyrus called them, weren’t as bad as they had been starting out, but they were still potent enough to force her to stand backstage with one hand pressed to her stomach while she made herself take deep breaths. She closed her eyes and imagined how the night’s performance would go, letting it all play out inside her head.
    Perfectly, of course.
    After awhile, the routine began to calm her. She was ready.
    When Dollie bustled past and smiled at her, Savannah was able to return that smile and mean it.
    â€œI just snuck a glance at the crowd,” Dollie said. “Looks like we’re going to have a full house.”
    â€œThat’s good,” Savannah said.
    â€œYou bet it is. We need to do well here.”
    Savannah thought she heard a trace of worry in the older woman’s voice. The troupe hadn’t been doing as well financially in recent months. Quite a few of the performances in various cities hadn’t sold out, and it seemed like the expenses of traveling and staying on the road just kept going up. She didn’t think the troupe was in any real danger of folding, but that unwelcome possibility lurked in the back of her head, anyway. If that ever happened, she didn’t know what she would do.
    She had a little money saved up; she could always return to her home in Georgia. But if she did that, it would mean admitting defeat. Worse, there was the chance that her father wouldn’t allow her to come home. For all she knew, William Thorpe might have disowned her. She hadn’t had any contact with him in more than a year.
    With a little shake of her head, Savannah put all that out of her thoughts. Concentrate on the thing that was at hand, she told herself, and that was tonight’s show. That was the only thing she could do anything about at the moment.
    A minute later, Cyrus parted the curtain and walked out on stage to loud applause, dressed in his Shakespearean costume. He swept his plumed hat off his head and gave the audience his usual welcoming spiel, then launched into Hamlet’s famous “To be or not to be” speech.
    The crowd listened politely, but as she waited behind the curtain Savannah could hear them growing slightly restless toward the end. She knew that some of the men in the audience had come mostly for the singing and dancing, and to look at her and the other female members of the troupe.
    Cyrus concluded the famous passage and