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Edge grinned an expression that offered the couple no comfort. “No trouble, folks,” he said flatly. “I just want a little information.”

“You!” the woman said.

“Me,” Edge answered.

“You got gall, coming back here after what you did to the sheriff,” Hank was a brave man. His voice was strong and he did not flinch as Edge stepped quickly up to him. Annie gasped again, but Edge merely removed the Colt from the man’s holster. He took his time emptying the shells. He tossed them in one direction, the gun in the other, into the trees.

“Sheriff, ought to be more polite,” he said. He looked at Annie. “You recognized my name.”

“What?”

“Back in the jailhouse this morning. When Hammond said I was called Edge it meant something to you.”

“Don’t tell him anything,” Hank commanded.

“Shut your mouth,” Edge said, stabbing forward with the Henry, aiming the jab at where a spot of blood showed on the sling, just above the elbow.

“Don’t,” the woman cried in alarm as Hank staggered back with a pained grunt as the ache of his wound was reawakened.

“So answer,” Edge said evenly.

“Five soldiers ...” she said.

“Yeah?”

“In the saloon last night.”

“What kind of soldiers?”

“In blue. Yankees.”

“Any rank?”

“What?” Puzzled.

“Chevrons on their arms,” Edge made a motion with his hand: three times.

“Right. Yes. One was a sergeant. The others called him Frank.”

“What happened?”

She couldn’t hold Edge’s steady gaze, looked at Hank who stood red faced with frustrated anger.

“I went to the saloon to get some beer. We don’t stock it, but when a customer wants a drink with his meal ...”

“I ain’t interested in how you run your hash house,” Edge said with impatience.

“No,” she said, biting her lower lip. “I went to the saloon and while the barkeep was drawing the beer I heard the soldiers talking. I thought I heard the name Hedge but it could have been Edge.”

“Close enough,” Edge told her. “What did they say?”

“I didn’t hear much,” she said, anxious to please, afraid her information would not be sufficient to avert harm for her and Hank.

“I don’t want it word for word,” Edge told her.

“They were saying something ...” her face screwed up as her frightened mind struggled to recollect with accuracy. “... something: they wondered what Edge would do when he found … Johnny, would it be?”

Edge’s face now twisted, but in his case it was because he recollected only too well. “Close enough, “he said softly. “What else?”

“The one they called Frank said he didn’t give a damn one way of the other.”

“What do you want from Annie?” Hank demanded, trying words as an outlet for his frustration.

“You don’t shut up, deputy, I’ll pull the trigger the next time I aim,” Edge told him.

“Please, Hank,” Annie said desperately. She looked again at Edge. “One of them said you wouldn’t dare follow them to Arizona Territory. Not with all five of them stuck together as they were.”

“Anything else?” She had told him nothing he had not already suspected. Forrest had talked a lot about the years before the war in Arizona.”

“Something about bounty hunting,” Annie said hopefully.

That was how he had made his living—collecting bounties for capturing fugitives heading for the Mexican border: dead or alive—always dead when Forrest brought them in.

“Anything else?”

“What else?”

“Arizona’s a big territory. They mention any place in particular? Any town?”

She thought deeply, suddenly smiled. “Yes Frank mentioned a place called Warlock.”

Edge had never heard of it, but knew Annie had not pulled the name out of the air. She was too scared to have any creative ideas.

He sighed: “Okay. Obliged for your help.”

“What are you going to do with us?” Annie asked nervously.

“Now he’s going to kill us,” Hank answered.

“Christ, deputy,” Edge said softly. “You really do run off at the mouth all the time, don’t you? Why should I kill you? Way things were going before I broke in you and the lady showed all signs of having the hots for each other. Way I figure it, if your wife or Annie’s pa finds out about that, well, neither of your lives are going to be worth living. Whereas, if we make a deal ...”

“What kind of deal?” Hank demanded.

“You keep your overflowing mouth shut about me and I’ll hold my peace about what I saw.”

“I’m a lawman ...” Hank started, but Annie cut him off.

“We won’t say a word, Mr. Edge,” she said. “Hank’s angry just now, but I’ll talk sense into him.”

Edge looked from the enraged Hank to the anxious Annie and nodded his satisfaction. He turned as if to leave, then back to face the woman again.

“Almost forgot. You have five dollars that belongs to me, Miss Annie.”

“I don’t know ...” Another memory flooded back into her mind.”

Edge nodded. “The breakfasts. Way I see it, I was a guest of the State and the State ought to pay for my board and lodging.”

“I … I don’t have any money on me,” she said.

Edge grinned and stepped up close to her. He grasped her arm and swung her around, placing her between himself and Hank, so that he was able to watch them both with ease.

“I’ve seen where you keep your valuables, Miss Annie,” he said slyly and suddenly thrust his hand down the front of her dress, stirred by the firm, warm pleasures of her breasts against each side of his wrist. His fingers found a roll of bills and he withdrew his hand as the woman gasped in indignation and clutched at the top of her dress—too late.”

“You ...” she started to say but got no further when she saw the meanness in Edge’s expression.

“And you shouldn’t tell lies,” he said, glancing down at the money. There were two five-dollar bills and some ones. He took what was his and held out the rest to her.

She seemed reluctant, afraid to take it, but after a moment, did so, glanced at it with disbelief and put it back from whence it came.

“And honorable thief,” Hank said with disgust.

“Who keeps his word,” Edge said evenly. “You keep yours or I’ll cut your tongue out and nail it to the door at the lady’s pa’s house.”

Then he made a sudden movement, leaning forward from the waist and brushing his lips gently against Annie’s mouth. The woman gasped as Hank stepped forward, pulled up sharp when the muzzle of the Henry swung up to cover him.

Edge grinned. “I could envy you,” he said. “She tastes as good as she feels.”

Then he spun and vanished into the trees around the glade, as Hank made a deep-throated sound of fury and Annie raised a hand gently to her mouth. Her eyes shone and a sense of shame engulfed her, pricking her soul with accusation for the involuntary flush of desire that infused her entire body.

“That Edge is quite a man,” she murmured.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EDGE had an uneventful journey across the remainder of the Plains land, pacing himself and his horse to achieve a fast rate without inviting fatigue. He was taking a southwestern route, slashing across the southeastern corner of the Colorado Territory, and in not many days the horizon ahead became a dark line between the sun-baked ground and the azure sky as the Front Rage of the southern Rockies emerged over the earth’s curvature. He rode from early morning till close to noon, rested in whatever shade was available while the sun arced over its peak, then moved on till nightfall.