Chapter 33

Though I pay for my own room and meals, I have quite a nice little bundle of cash set aside. I don’t squander my money on booze or women, like many of the other ranch hands do. So I have enough for a one-way ticket heading just about anywhere. When I step up to the window, though, the depot manager squints at me through his small spectacles and chews on the long ends of his mustache. “Leavin’ where?” he squawks.

I shrug. “Anywhere’s fine. When’s the first train tomorrow?”

He pushes his glasses up on his nose and peers at me. Whatever he sees makes him nod sagely. “This about Miss Lucille, ain’t it?”

Of course he would’ve heard about that. “No, no I—”

“She know you leavin’?” he queries.

I hesitate. If I shake my head, then she’ll find out as soon as this old coot rushes out to spread the news. If I nod, though, word may still get back to her.