On the Wrong Track
“ I wasted about a minute trying to change Miss Caveo’s mind. I know it was about a minute, because Wiltrout shut me up with one word.
“Nine.”
He was staring at his pocket watch like he was counting down the seconds to “Eight” … and zero.
“Go,” Old Red told me.
Up till then, he’d stayed out of my debate with the lady—which hadn’t been much of a “debate,” really, since I’d been doing all the arguing. All she did was tug at my arm and tell me I was wasting time.
My brother shifted his gaze to her now. “But be careful.”
I couldn’t tell if he was warning her or warning me about her, and I didn’t have time to get a better bead on his meaning. Miss Caveo was pulling at my arm like a team of horses in harness, and there was nothing to do but let loose the brake and go rolling off with her.
“So … which first?” I said as we hurried around the station toward the dusty streets of Carlin. “Stables or saloons?”
The lady simply looked up and cocked an eyebrow.
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