The Circuit Rider
“By her quick estimation, there were at least four of them, but only one had loud piano music and drunken, off-key singing filling the night air.
Voices. Music. They were a relief to Bird’s ears.
She found the sound of a full saloon oddly soothing, or maybe it was just the knowledge that a bottle of whiskey was in her very near future.
The image of the girl was still fresh in her mind.
But the doctor and Tower had it handled. It wasn’t a three-person job, and Bird knew she was better at hurting people than healing them.
She banged through the door of McGarry’s Saloon, walked to the bar, and ordered a whiskey.
The bartender was a tall bald man with a bright green vest. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, revealing pale, nearly hairless forearms.
The man looked twice at Bird.
They always did.
It wasn’t necessarily just because she was a woman.
It was also because of the way she was dressed. Boots, denims, buckskin shirt, Stetson, and two guns, tied down.
They also stared because of her looks.
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