Wish Upon a Cowboy by Maureen Child, Kathleen Kane Page B

words tumbling over each other in a rush. "Some cardsharp's took most of his money and Billy's just drunk enough to complain."
    Frowning, Jonas looked across the room toward the poker table in the corner. "Complain too loud, he's liable to get shot."
    "Don't I know it, boss. That's why I come to get you. You tell Billy to leave it lay and he most likely will."
    "He'd damn well better," Jonas growled as he pushed himself to his feet. "I don't need a dead cowhand just before roundup."
    Stretch hunched his shoulders. "It would make more work for the rest of us."
    Casual talk aside, neither of the men was going to let Billy die over a card game. As he pushed himself to his feet and started for the table in the corner, Jonas thought, at least this was something. Drinking wasn't helping. Maybe a good old-fashioned brawl was just what he needed. Besides, he couldn't just stand there and let Billy get shot, could he?
    When he was still too far away to do a damn of good, he saw that he was too late. The gambler drew his pistol and aimed it at Billy.
    That corner of the saloon went quiet.
    A couple of men scooted their chairs back, getting out of range.
    "It's in the fire now," Stretch said from behind him.
    Through the haze of whiskey blurring the edges of his mind, Jonas cursed low and long. A careless shout from him might be all the surprise the gambler needed to jerk his finger on that trigger. And Billy would be dead.
    Anger rumbled through him and vaguely he noted the distant drums of thunder.
    He turned his dark gaze on the gambler's freshly shaved face and cold, empty eyes. Not much hope there. Seconds crawled by, as if the world hung in the balance and time forgot to move.
    He shifted his concentration to the small pepperbox pistol the gambler held. An unpredictable weapon at best, Jonas knew it could be counted on to either fire one bullet, all five at once, or none at all.
    "All we can hope for," he said softly, more to himself than to Stretch, "is that the damn gun won't work."
    Time skittered into life again and the gambler pulled the trigger. Billy jumped in his seat, obviously expecting to feel the slamming white-hot pain of a bullet crashing into his chest.
    But nothing happened.
    Furious, the gambler jerked the trigger again and the same empty click sounded out in the room. He glared at the gun and tossed it angrily aside.
    At the same time, Billy realized he wasn't about to die and lunged across the table, hands outstretched, reaching for the other man's throat. The young cowhand grabbed hold of the gambler's fancy ruffled shirt instead and yanked him off his chair. The two of them went down amid a crashing of chairs and a chorus of shouting voices.
    "Luck, boss!" Stretch slapped him on the back. "You always did have the damnedest luck!"
    Luck, he thought, and for one wild, terrifying minute he found himself wondering if it really was luck, or was Hannah's story more true than he wanted to know?
    Stretch raced past him to join in the fight and Jonas stood stock-still a moment or two longer, asking himself if the pepperbox had failed because it was basically a lousy weapon… or had he, somehow, caused the gun to misfire?
    A war whoop worthy of a howling Comanche shattered his bizarre thoughts and he ducked in time to avoid a thrown chair as it whistled past his head.
    The saloon erupted around him. This was no time for thinking. Jonas eagerly joined in the tight, choosing the closest man to him and landing a roundhouse punch to his jaw. As that same man jumped to his feet and buried his fist in Jonas's stomach, he consoled himself with the knowledge that at least this he understood.
    *  *  *
    Something heavy landed with a thud that shook Hannah out of a restless sleep. Sitting up in bed, she flipped he braid behind her shoulder and listened for another minute before getting out of bed and opening her bedroom door.
    Her bare feet tingled with cold against the wood floor and the night air seemed to pierce right