Laura went quiet a moment. Then she said, “What is it you think you’re going to find in Howlett?”

Eva shrugged, even though her friend couldn’t see it. “Nothing. Myself. I don’t know. I’m not really looking for anything. I just… needed to not be there, in that city.”

Laura sighed. “I blame your books, filling your big, sweet brain with all these wild ideas about adventure and excitement. What you really need is some good old-fashioned dick.”

Eva laughed and flushed red, scanning the bar’s few tenants in embarrassment, as if they could hear Laura in her ear. “Are you saying I can’t have both?”

“Honey, who among us is so fortunate?”

Eva giggled. “Judging by my clientele so far, I’m not going to get either.”

“Why don’t ya pull on your boots and spurs and rustle you up a young stallion over at the local saloon?” said Laura in her best country accent—which was, in fact, a terrible country accent. Eva tried to keep her laughter down, covering her mouth as she rocked on a stool behind the bar. One of the barflies gave a fleeting side glance at her.

“I can see you’ve watched a lot of westerns in your time,” said Eva.

“Even a shit place like Howlett has to have a place to meet guys. Christ, what else is there to even do out there?”

Eva slipped out her own country accent. “Well, first we get up at the crack of dawn to castrate the bulls and clean the outhouse…”

“Ugh, I’ve already lost you.” Eva could hear the smile in Laura’s voice. “I’m just saying, if you’re out there for adventure, you should really go for it. You’ve had, like, a single one-night stand since you left Rick. You’re a young, hot, brainiac. Stop depriving the world of your sexiness.”

Eva began to reply as the front door of Swashbuckler’s opened, creaking. Sunlight swamped in. Two men with broad shoulders stood in the doorway for just a moment before they stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind them. Both had sharp, attractive Latino features and expensive leather jackets. The man on the right had his long, crow-black hair circled up in a bun at the top of his head in a style that struck Eva as out of place. That hipster look was popular in the cities. She immediately had a flash of instinct that these men were not locals.

Laura had been talking in her ear, but Eva heard none of it. She couldn’t tear her eyes off the two men at the door as she said, “Sorry, Laura, I’m going to have to call you back…”

“Man, you’re really going to lengths to avoid this talk, sweet cheeks.”

The two Latino men scanned the room silently before their eyes settled on Eva. She felt something sick and urgent shoot up her spine and to the hairs on the back of her neck. “It’s not that. We’ll talk later, I’ve just… got some customers.” They stared at her now. She could feel their gaze despite their sunglasses.

Laura didn’t seem to notice the tension in Eva’s voice. “Okay, honey. Call me this evening, I’m staying in tonight.”

“Will do,” said Eva. She dropped the phone from her ear and ended the call.

For a few tense seconds, the three of them just looked at each other from across the room. Eva had this strange urge to do something, even though she had no idea what that would be. Instead, she stood stiff like a deer in headlights until the men took their sunglasses off and moseyed slowly up to the bar. Eva came up to meet them.

The one with the bun on his head smiled at her when he approached, but the smile didn’t reach up to his eyes. “Hola, señorita.”

“Good morning, gentlemen,” said Eva. The other man with the close-cropped black hair stood behind his compatriot, silent. “What can I get you?”

The man with the bun smiled, a genuine one this time. “Ai, it’s a little early for us to be drinking, I think.”

Eva frowned. “Some coffee, then? I can put on a pot.”

“No, miss,” he shook his head and leaned onto the counter with his arms stretched out in a pose that made Eva think of the way Jesus looked in Da Vinci’s Last Supper. “We are here for business. I need to speak to your husband.”

It had been a long time since anyone asked for Eva’s husband, but even still, thinking of Rick made her sick to her stomach. It must have shown on her face; the man with the bun amended his request. “Or your father, perhaps?”

Eva said, “I’m sorry, is this your way of asking to speak to the owner of this bar?”

“Yes. We have business to conduct with the owner.”

Eva had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Instead, she just looked up at the ceiling for a few brief seconds and took a breath. “You’re speaking with her.” For all intents and purposes, anyway.

The man turned back to exchange a glance with his compatriot. There was nothing subtle or friendly about it. “Is that a fact?”

Eva felt a growing anxiety in her stomach, and it made her impatient, made her tongue sharp. Rick had always punished her for it, but no matter how hard she tried to quiet it, it was just who she was. “Must not be very important business, if you couldn’t be bothered to find out who runs things.”

Darkness crossed the face of the man with the bun, a darkness Eva recognized. But it passed quickly and without comment. Soon his fake smile had returned, teeth polished and shining white. “On the contrary, it is very important business. And this is the first I have heard of a woman’s involvement here.”

“Recent development,” said Eva, cocking her head. “So, what is it I can do for you?”

The man watched her for a few seconds. She could almost hear the gears in his mind turning as he tried to decide what to do with this new information. He stood up and removed his arms from the counter. In a slow, deliberate walk, he moved down the length of the bar. Like an accompanying musician, his partner headed slowly toward the front door, standing in front of it like a human shield.

Blocking the exit, said some deep part of Eva’s mind. Or do I just read too many books?

Her chest felt tight as she watched the man with the bun move around the bar, past where customers were allowed to go. He came around it without hesitation and walked straight toward her. Aside from hopping over the bar itself, Eva had nowhere to run. She froze as he approached her.

He stopped in front of her, standing almost a head taller than she was and staring down at her with dark brown eyes. Dead eyes.

“The only thing you can do for me… señorita… is what all other women can do for me.” He took one of his hands and ran it down the pale skin of her left arm, exposed by the sundress she wore. Eva felt shocked at his touch but didn’t recoil. She stared at him with anger in her eyes, frozen. “So unless that is what you are offering…”

“It is not,” said Eva through gritted teeth.

The man smiled at her discomfort and moved his hand up to trace her clenched jawline. “Then you can deliver a message for me to the real owner. You tell him Ramirez will be back to speak with him very soon about a business arrangement, and I would find it unspeakably rude if he does not show his face a second time.”

Eva said nothing. She couldn’t find any words to spit at this man. Tears stung the back of her eyes and she focused all her energy on keeping them hidden.

He removed his hand from Eva’s face and abruptly turned away from her. He sauntered back out around the bar and toward the door. “Until we meet again, señorita. Don’t forget the message. And for your own good, I wouldn’t tell anyone else we were here.” The silent man held open the door for Ramirez and they both disappeared out into the dusty morning sunlight.

The door shut hard and Eva felt her body’s tension collapse. Her legs began to shake. She shuffled until she felt the stool underneath her and sat down. Tears began to pop out of her eyes even though she wasn’t crying. Through the blurry tears, she could see the barflies looking up from where they had hunkered down, staring at her with wondering, cowardly looks.