They were practicing a new bank robbery routine today, so there were no tourists around, only owners or other town employees of the late 1800s Western-themed park. Also in a couple of months was the annual sharpshooter’s contest. He’d won last year and the year before. Barely. Duke Stanton, the local Enclave sheriff, had given him a good run for his money both times. He’d been the reigning champion until Colton had come along and provided better competition.
For today’s riding and shooting, Colton had to gallop his horse down Main Street with three other desperados shooting his fake gun into the sky to make their presence known, stopping up short at the sheriff’s office. This was their third run-through, and while he enjoyed it, he was getting a little bored.
As they waited for the next part of the practice show to unfold, Colton glanced around the area noting the candy-filled storefront display of the old-time treat shop, Hunter Franklin’s woodworking shop across the street, and the very authentic Western saloon down the way, which also led directly into the recently built Old West hotel.
Colton saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see who it was. A woman he’d never seen before cautiously looked at their group of horses and desperados, smiled in their direction, and then hurried across the town’s main thoroughfare and directly into the saloon.
Holy shit! Who is that? She’s gorgeous.
The color of her hair was honey gold with hints of red. He couldn’t see her eyes from here, but her million-dollar smile was intriguing to say the least. She disappeared behind the swinging doors of Cooper Mackay’s saloon.
“Colton!” came Kendall’s irate tone. “Pay attention!”
He swiveled around in his saddle so fast he almost unseated himself. How embarrassing would that have been? Very.
“I am paying attention.”
“Oh?” he asked, disbelief coating his tone. “Then what did I just say?”
Colton pushed his hat back on his head and grinned. “You said, ‘Colton! Pay attention.’ And I am. So what do you want?”
Kendall shook his head and stared up at the crystal clear blue sky. “I want you to incorporate this routine into the lead-up of the annual sharpshooter event.”
“What?”
“See? You were not paying attention at all. You were staring at someone you don’t need to be staring at.”
Colton shrugged. Staring at a beautiful woman he wanted to hunt down and try to find again was not a waste of time in his mind.
“Tell me her name, and then I’ll pay attention more.”
“No.”
“Unfair, Kendall.”
“Be that as it may, pay attention, and perhaps I’ll divulge the information you seek later.”
“Maybe I’ll just mosey on over to the saloon, tie up my horse there, and find out for myself.”
“Or you can simply tell me whether or not you can incorporate this routine into your annual sharpshooter’s gun show.”
Colton shrugged. “Probably.”
“Oh? And after leaping off your horse will you still be able to shoot your gun and actually hit the target if the redhead is anywhere in the vicinity?”
He grinned. “I sure hope so. Besides, her hair is sort of a strawberry blonde, not red, don’t you think?”
An expression of incredulousness came over Kendall’s face. “No. I don’t think. I have a wife. I rarely concern myself with the color of any other woman’s hair.”
“Good for you.”
Kendall looked like he was about to leap off his horse and strangle him.
Colton pushed out a sigh and said, “Yes. Fine. I’ll be perfectly able to perform this routine, and then promptly leap off my horse and make a trick shot during the annual sharpshooter’s event. Satisfied?”
Kendall rolled his eyes, but the angry look faded.
Colton stared at him. “So tell me her name. You promised and I have witnesses.” The men around them started laughing.
“Her name is Isabelle Anderson,” Kendall said, somewhat reluctantly.
“She works at the saloon with Cooper?” Interesting. Colton hadn’t heard of anyone new joining the saloon girls.
“No. She’s the new night manager at the Old West Town hotel.”
Colton promptly looked over his shoulder at the saloon doors again—ignoring everyone around him—and vowing he’d find out if she might be interested in a short-term affair with two men.
His best friend, Warrick, liked strawberry blondes, didn’t he? Colton laughed to himself. If he didn’t before, he certainly would now. They didn’t always agree on everything, but their taste in women was often exactly on target.