Chapter 109

Then he realized it wouldn’t matter. If they were supposed to die in a matter of hours, of course they’d look nervous.

“What’s going on?” the sheriff demanded.

“Nothing.”

He curled his lip at them and walked out, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

Bart hopped down from the bunk. “What do you think George is going to do?” he asked softly.

“I don’t know, but he’d better do it soon if we’re to get out of here and rescue Steve.”

Three of Weatherford’s men—the same three who’d dragged them off to jail—had come to get Steve a while ago, smirking and saying Weatherford wanted them at the livery stable early so the men in town could come by for the show.

They were certain they could overcome Steve.

Before Bart could begin pacing again, he heard the door to the jail open, and he stared at Frank.

“Sheriff McCloud?” It was George, his voice soft and breathless.

“Yeah?” His brusque voice turned inviting. “Yeah. What can I do for you, ma’am?”