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“Who did you say?” he asked.

“Rachael Kirby. She plays piano in the Golden Nugget Saloon.”

“Are you sure it is the Rachael Kirby?”

“Aha!” the mayor said with a broad smile spreading across his face. “So you have heard of her?”

“If she is the person I’m thinking of, yes, I have heard of her,” Edwin said. “But I don’t understand. What is Rachael Kirby doing in a place like this?”

“I told you, she’s playin’ the piano.”

“What I mean, my good man, is, how did the likes of Rachael Kirby wind up in a—a—” He searched for a word, then shook his head. “Place as small as this,” he concluded.

“The way I heard it, she was with a group of players, some acting company called J. Garon or something like that. Well, sir, this fella Garon took all the money and ran away, leaving all his actors stranded.”

“But, Rachael isn’t an actor,” Edwin said. “She is a pianist.”

The mayor laughed and pointed at Edwin. “You know, that’s a funny thing,” he said. “That’s exactly what she calls herself. She says she’s a pianist, not a piano player. Can you believe that?”

“Yes, Mayor,” Edwin said. “I can believe it.”

Edwin’s knees felt weak and his stomach turned. He’d had no idea he would ever run into Rachael Kirby again. Especially not in a tiny town like Higbee, Colorado.

Rachael was playing the Fantasie in C Minor by Mozart. Falcon was seated at one of the tables, enjoying the music while eating a ham sandwich and drinking a beer. There was a spattering of applause when she was finished. Then, after acknowledging the applause, Rachael walked over to Falcon’s table.

“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked.

Falcon stood quickly and pulled out a chair for her. “It would be my pleasure,” he said.

“When did you last hear from Andrew and Rosana?” Rachael asked.

“It hasn’t been that long,” Falcon said. “In fact, they came out to Colorado to give a performance at the Broadmoor for Count James Pourtales.”

“Well, I’ll bet they enjoyed that,” Rachael said. “Seeing you again, and returning to the West they both love so.”

Falcon chuckled.

“What is it? What is so funny?”

“I’m not sure they ‘love’ the West all that much. They have spent their entire adult life in New York. Plus, there was another little factor involved.”

“Another factor?”

“They were taken hostage and held for ransom,” Falcon said.

“Oh, heavens! How awful that must have been for them!”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Falcon said. “But apparently, they took it as one grand adventure. I wouldn’t be surprised if by now they were reenacting the entire experience in daily matinees.”

Rachael laughed out loud. “You know, I think you may be right.”

“Are you going to the dance tonight?”

Rachael smiled. “I thought you would never ask,” she said.

For a second, Falcon was confused. Then he realized she thought he was asking her to the dance. He recovered quickly.

“If you would allow me, I would be happy to call for you and escort you to the dance,” he said.

“I would like that very much,” Rachael said.

“All right. Seven o’clock?”

“Yes, seven would be fine.” Looking around the saloon, Rachael saw that a few more patrons had arrived. “We always get a crowd early on Saturday. I guess I had better get back to the piano. I’ll see you tonight at seven.”

“Rachael Kirby?” a man’s voice said.

Rachael was halfway back to the piano when she heard her name. Turning, she looked at the person who addressed her, then let out a little gasp.

“Edwin Mathias!” she replied. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“My group is providing music for the dance tonight,” the tall, dignified man replied. “I heard over at hotel that you were here, playing in a”—he looked around with obvious distaste—“saloon? I was certain it would not be you, yet here you are.”

“Yes,” Rachael said. “Here I am.”

“May I ask why you are here?”

“Everyone has to be somewhere,” Rachael answered. “I came west with the J. Garon troupe, and when he absconded with all the money, I found myself stranded and in need of a job. This opportunity came up, so I took it.”

“So, the story the mayor told me is correct,” Edwin said. He made a clucking sound, and shook his head. “Rachael, Rachael, Rachael. I could have warned you about Garon. Everyone in the business knows what a crook he is.”

“Apparently, not everyone,” Rachael replied. “I had no idea that the man’s reputation was anything but sterling.”

Seeing that Falcon was following the conversation between the two of them, Rachael stepped back toward the table. “Edwin, I would like you to meet a friend of mine, Falcon MacCallister. Falcon, this is Edwin Mathias.”

Falcon stood and extended his hand.

“MacCallister,” Edwin said. “Would he be any—”

“He is their brother,” Rachael said, answering Edwin’s question before he finished asking it.

Edwin smiled and dipped his head slightly. “If you are the brother of Andrew and Rosanna MacCallister, then it is certainly my honor and privilege to meet you, sir.”

“The honor is mine,” Falcon said.

“Falcon, Edwin and I are old…friends,” Rachael said, setting the word “friends” apart from the rest of the sentence. “We have performed together many times.”

“Well, by all means, have a seat, Mr. Mathias,” Falcon invited. “I’ll just get out of your way here. I’m sure you two have much to talk about.”

“You needn’t leave, Falcon,” Rachael said.

“I was about to leave anyway,” Falcon said. “I need to buy a new shirt for the dance tonight.”

“Then I will be seeing you again, sir?” Edwin said.

“Yes,” Falcon replied.

“Very good, I shall look forward to it.”

As Falcon left, he glanced back to see that Rachael and Edwin were already engaged in serious conversation. From the tone of their voices, and the way they behaved toward each other, he got the idea that their past acquaintance was more than just casual.

“I was afraid I would never see you again,” Edwin said after Falcon left.

“It might have been better if you hadn’t,” Rachael said.

“Rachael, please, don’t be that way. You have no idea what I went through when you left.”

“What you went through?” Rachael said. “Edwin, may I remind you that you did not come to my apartment and catch me with a man. It was I who caught you with a woman.”

“But she meant nothing to me, Rachael. Can’t you understand that? She—she came up to me after the performance that night—she was an outrageous flirt. At first I was just flattered by the attention. Then—”

“Please,” Rachael said, interrupting him. “I don’t want to hear all the details.”

“All right,” Edwin said. He sighed. “I wish you were as pleased to see me as I am to see you. I did read the reviews. Rachael, the critics loved us. We could have had it all, the season in New York, the European tour. It was there for us—and we just threw it away.”

We threw it away?”

“Well, all right, I threw it away,” Edwin said. “But if you had just been a tiny bit more tolerant. I would have made it up to you, Rachael. I swear to you, I would have made it up to you.”

“Your beer, sir,” Corey said, bringing the mug over to the table at that moment.

“Thank you, my good man,” Edwin said.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Edwin, must you always be so pompous?” Rachael asked. “He isn’t your ‘good man.’ He is the owner of this establishment, and he is my boss.”

“I see,” Edwin said. He looked around the saloon. “You call this an establishment, do you? If you call it an establishment rather than a saloon, does that make it seem a bit more palatable for you to be playing piano in such a place?”