In the Giorgio household, Gemma was a firm believer in early to bed and early to rise. She always roused Minimi and their sons out of bed as dawn broke and insisted they wash up and dress before sitting at her table. Their breakfasts were small, as was the Italian custom. Coffee for her husband, milk for her sons, and eggs and a roll for everyone. The milk and eggs she bought each day at the general store.
Placido and Arturo were seldom out and about before ten. Arturo always swept out the stable while Placido fed and watered the horses. They owned three, which they rented out on those rare occasions when someone wandered in wanting to rent one.
At the general store, the mornings started punctually at seven whether Chester wanted them to or not. Adolphina was always first up but not for long. She would wake him and, after he dressed, send him to the kitchen to make breakfast. It was a secret only they shared, since the woman was expected to do the cooking, but Adolphina hated to cook. By eight breakfast was done, Adolphina usually went back to bed, and Chester hung the OPEN sign in the front window. Usually Dolph arrived to sell his eggs and milk by eight thirty.
Winifred Curry did not stick to a routine. He got up when he felt like it, usually between eight and ten, and opened the saloon. Then he treated himself to his first drink of the day and ate if he was hungry.
Sally Worth slept in as long as she wanted. Some mornings she was up early; other times she did not appear until early afternoon. Whether she had plied her trade the night before had a lot to do with when she stirred.
On this particular morning Sally couldn’t sleep, so she was up and dressed by nine. She had Win pour her a drink and went out and sat in one of the rocking chairs to enjoy the relative coolness while it still lasted. She was peacefully rocking and sipping when a rider came up the street from the south and drew rein at the hitch rail. He had a big belly and wore nice clothes, which told Sally he made a decent living at whatever he did, which piqued her interest. “Good morning, there, handsome.”
Paunch Stevens smiled. “I have been called a lot of things, lady, but that is not one of them.” He stiffly dismounted and swore. “Why can’t someone invent a comfortable saddle? My backside is killing me.”
“Would you like it massaged?”
Paunch blinked, and regarded her with renewed interest. “A fallen dove, here? You must be rich and do it for the fun.”
Sally laughed. “I wish. I scrape by, barely, and only by the good graces of the gent who owns this saloon.”
“Ah. He is your man,” Paunch said.
“Not how you mean, no. He is a friend, a good friend. Him and me go a long ways back.”
“You don’t say.” Paunch came under the overhang and swatted dust from his suit. “Perhaps after I conclude my business here today, you and I can get together. I will be in a mood to celebrate.”
Sally came out of the rocking chair as if she had been shoved. Beaming, she hooked her arm in his. “Mister, I am all yours.”
“Not until I conclude my business.”
“What would that be, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I am here to shoot someone,” Paunch informed her, and headed into the saloon. He wanted to fortify himself before Caine arrived. His anger of the day before had faded and been replaced by a cold dash of reality. “I understand it is legal in this town.”
“Oh my,” Sally said. “I was beginning to think the mayor wasted money on that notice in the newspaper.”
“How is that again?” Paunch asked as he steered her toward the bar.
“You are the first person to come here to kill, mister. Congratulations, I guess.”
Win was wiping the counter. He greeted Paunch Stevens, poured him a rye, and listened to him explain why he was there. “So it has come to pass. You better go fetch the mayor, Sally.”
Grumbling, Sally went out.
Chester Luce was rearranging the dry goods when the bell over the door tinkled. He liked to rearrange. When business was slow, which was practically always, he sometimes spent entire days moving items from one shelf to another and back again. Turning, he hid his surprise at seeing Sally. She rarely came into the store, in large part because Adolphina made no secret of her disdain for loose women. “Miss Worth. What can I do for you?”
“I have brought news, Mayor,” Sally said, casting a worried glance at the door to the Luce living quarters.
“Is that ornery pig making a nuisance of himself again?” Chester asked. “I keep telling those Mexicans to keep it penned up.”
“It is not the pig,” Sally said. “It is your wish come true. There is a man over to the saloon who has come here to kill somebody.”
“Really and truly?” Chester said, excitement coursing through him like rapids through a chasm. “I had about given up hope.”
“Better hurry on over there before he changes his mind,” Sally Worth suggested.
“I take it you do not approve?”
“Not of killing, I don’t. I have seen my share, heard about a lot more, and if there is one thing I have learned, it is that no good ever comes of taking a human life.”
