July 1, 1874

The morning sun streaming through the thin curtains pulled Elijah Wyatt from a deep sleep. It was the deepest sleep he’d had since the War, and he was more than a little reluctant to give it up so easily. He stretched before pulling the stiff cotton sheets over his head, hoping to catch a few more winks before getting out of bed and greeting the day.

But the pounding on the door to his rented room told him someone else had something other than letting him catch up on some well deserved rest on their mind.

“Wyatt!” he recognized the voice behind the knocking and cursed silently as he stumbled out of the comfort a warm bed to unlock the door. Silas Liberty was waiting on the other side, looking fresh from a bath and a new set of duds, and looking alarmingly awake for what Wyatt considered an ungodly hour. “Wyatt, did I wake you?” Silas asked.

“What time is it?” Wyatt asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His head was beginning to pound, reminding him of the large quantity of whiskey he had consumed during a rather satisfying game of poker the night before.

“A little after seven. Get up and get dressed.”

“Why?” Wyatt asked, tossing a longing glance at the comfortable bed behind him.

“There’s a couple fellas down at the saloon asking for you.” Silas answered. “One of the men came up to me as I left the bathhouse, asking if you were in town as well. They say they have an job opportunity for us.” Wyatt gave his friend a disapproving look. Silas was his best friend from childhood, and took off for the dreams and prospect the West was said to offer as soon as they had come back from fighting in the War Between the States. Silas ate up the idea of being a bounty hunter, lawman, or whatever else would bring him fame throughout the West. Wyatt enjoyed gambling more than spending his time chasing down some miscreant, sleeping on the ground, not being able to bathe for sometimes weeks on end, and not to mention the increased risk of a nasty death at the hands of only God knows who. All this for, what, a few hundred dollars? Hell, he could make that in a few hours at the tables. And he could sleep in his own bed that same night.

In spite of all the cons, he did enjoy the chase every once in a while, and besides, he had to make sure Silas didn’t run off and get himself killed. But, right now, the thought of a ‘job opportunity’ didn’t much please him. He was really looking forward to staying in San Francisco for a while.

“Do you know these gentlemen?” Wyatt asked.

“Nope. But the guy that talked to me said he was a Sheriff out of some town around here.”

“Do you know what this ‘job opportunity’ is?” Wyatt continued as he busied himself with pulling fresh clothes from his drawers.

“He didn’t want to discuss it until we were both down there.” Wyatt threw his friend another disapproving look, but didn’t argue. Only God knew who the man was that seeked their help, and why he chose them for it. During the war, he had made a name for himself, choosing to be a blockade runner to fighting down and dirty in the mud. He had been successful plenty of times, too, which soon led to fierce battles with Yankee soldiers he sometimes met along the way, when they recognized him.

He kept his name alive by turning a few high profile bounties, figuring if he was going to risk his neck alongside Silas, he was going to make it worthwhile. But, his heart truly was with games of chance, and he had hoped San Francisco would be the one place where he could settle down and enjoy his time at the tables. Apparently, Silas and this “Sheriff” had other ideas.

After he finished dressing, he followed his partner down the stairs to the saloon, which was already filled with plenty patrons, though Wyatt wasn’t exactly sure if these men were early risers, or night owls.

Tucked away at a small table at the back of the bar sat two gentlemen, one portly and bald, dressed in a dark charcoal suit that had obviously seem better days, and a bowler hat that he removed every once in a while to wipe the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. The other was at least a hundred pounds lighter than his companion, dressed more casually, a shiny badge pinned to his chest. He seemed to be making good use of the bottle of whiskey that sat in front of him, filling and downing a shot of the amber liquid ever few moments.

As Wyatt and Silas approached, the pair stood, the heavy man extending a chubby hand for a friendly handshake.

“Mr. Wyatt.” the man said proudly, shaking Wyatt’s hand vigorously. “It’s a please to meet you. The name’s Octavius Jonahs, mayor of Rio Vista, California. And this is Eldon Raymond,” Jonahs continued, nodding the badge wearing cowboy’s way “my sheriff.”

“Pleasure.” Wyatt muttered, tipping his hat in greeting to Raymond. “I gather you have already met my friend, Silas Liberty?”

“Oh, yes, sir.” Jonahs answered, offering the two empty chairs to Liberty and Wyatt as he sat. “I recognized him as soon as I saw him outside that bathhouse. You can’t imagine what a relief it is to find you two gentlemen.”

“Well, I understand you have a ‘job opportunity’ for myself and Mr. Liberty.” Wyatt began slowly, gladly accepting a shot of whiskey form Raymond. Jonahs nodded.

“That’s correct.” Jonahs paused as Wyatt poured himself another drink. “Mr. Wyatt, I do hope you forgive me if I have overstepped my boundaries in asking of you this request.” Jonahs cleared his throat and wiped his brow before continuing. “We have never met before, sir, but I am under the assumption that the two of you are some of the best trackers in the West.”

“That’s right.” Silas piped up and Wyatt had to suppress a sigh.

“Well, a few months ago, a young woman calling herself ‘Ettie Warner’ rode into our town. We were under the impression she was booked for a few months at the Blue Ridge Hotel and Saloon as an entertainer.” Another clearing of the throat, another brow wipe, “Well, during that time, my young, and quite foolish son, Nathaniel, became very infatuated with the talented showgirl. Soon, he was spending all his free time at the saloon, watching her sing, escorting her to dinner, buying her expensive gifts. During his time with Ms. Warner, he let it be known exactly how much our family is worth. He even went so far as to let her wander freely about my estate while I was not there.“ Another pat at his bushy brow. “To make a long story short, it wasn’t until Ms. Warner disappeared a few weeks ago did I realize my wall safe cleared out of it‘s entire contents, including some very rare family gems. And finally heard the entire story from my son.” Wyatt nodded, taking everything Jonahs said with a grain of salt. He didn’t know this stranger from Adam, but the con he spoke of sounded very familiar.

“What do you expect from me?” Wyatt asked as diplomatically as he could, refilling his glass once more.

“Well, I would appreciate it dearly if you and Mr. Liberty would be willing to track her down for us. I’d be willing to pay handsomely for her capture and the return of the money.”

“How much are we talking?” Silas asked, again causing Wyatt to suppress a sigh. It sounded to him as if the Pinkertons were more suited to take on this endeavor, not he and Silas. Besides, he still wasn’t too certain he wanted to leave the run of good luck he’d been having at the tables just yet.

“Ten thousand dollars.” Jonahs answered, without blinking an eye. Wyatt paused, letting his surprise show for only a fraction of a second before he regained his usual cool exterior. Ten thousand dollars was a lot of money. And how hard could tracking a lady be, he asked himself.

Silas looked up at him, his eyes wide and glinting with excitement. He could tell Silas wanted that money, too, and who was he to stand in his best friend’s way.

“Well, if you want us to track this “Ms. Warner’, we need something to go on. Do you have any idea where she’s headed?” Wyatt asked, calmly, not daring to let the greed and excitement he felt show in his voice.

“I got some information she was spotted just outside White Horse, Nevada.” Raymond spoke up, finishing what was left in the whiskey bottle.

“What does the fair maiden look like?”

“Well, it just so happens, I have a photograph of the young lady,” Jonahs began, fumbling in his jacket pocket to retrieve the picture. “It was taken with my son a few days before she left town, with my money.” He handed Wyatt a slightly crumpled picture after producing it from his breast pocket. Wyatt paused, nearly dropping the picture as his emerald eyes landed on the striking lady in the photograph.

“She’s quite small, if you can tell from the picture.” he heard Jonahs say, although his attention was directly focused on the photograph. “Barely stood about five feet, with long blonde hair and dark brown eyes.” Wyatt nodded slowly, knowing he didn’t need a description of the beautiful thief smiling back at him. And he also knew, her real name wasn’t Ettie Warner, either. She hadn’t changed a bit since the last time he saw her. The same dazzling smile, same deep dark eyes. And the same scam she had pulled on him nearly five years ago.

Silas had noticed his friend’s reaction, and leaned over to take a better look. “Well, I’ll be damned.” he breathed silently.

“Do you know the young lass?” Jonahs asked, noticing the men’s reaction.

“No, sir.” Wyatt replied quickly, forcing himself to tear his eyes from the photograph. “Now,” he continued, his usual cool exterior on his face. “I believe, we have a deal, however, there are a few things we would need to negotiate.”

“Anything you wish, Mr. Wyatt.”

“I’m going to require half upfront.” he began.

“Of course.” Jonahs answered quickly.

“Plus expenses.” Wyatt finished, carefully watching Jonahs’ face for any sign he might begin to rethink his offer.

“Of course.” Jonahs repeated, his tone still steady. Wyatt nodded and sat back slowly in his chair, fully aware of the look Silas was giving him.

“Well, than, Mr. Jonahs, it looks like we have a deal.” Wyatt smiled confidently.

“Great.” Jonahs smiled, seemingly relieved. “I can’t stress to you the utmost importance of finding this young lady.” An obvious attempt to tell Wyatt the search for ‘Ettie’ should have already been underway. Wyatt nodded as he poured himself another drink.

“Of course.” Wyatt muttered over the rim of the shot glass, before downing the drink with one sip, waiting for the fire to slip completely down his throat before grabbing the bottle once more.

Jonahs exchanged a nervous glance with Raymond, uncertain on whether to stay or make his leave. They sat for a few more seconds, shifting uncomfortably in the silence. Deciding it was best to go, Jonahs led the way out of the saloon, pausing every so often to toss an uncertain glance behind him.

“So, are we actually going after the fair Miss? Or are we just taking the money and run?” Silas asked.

“For ten thousand dollars?” Wyatt mused. “Of course we are.”