AS COLTON WALKED INTO the saloon, it reminded him of the Breckenridge, but a little more open. The Whiskey River Saloon had wooden doors with glass in them, and two sets of windows on the right side, which allowed the sun to come in. What was the same were the dusty wooden-plank floors and the long wooden bar that stretched from the front to the back. The bar curved at the front and had a thick lip, and then straightened out to the end of the room and shone to a high gloss finish. It was the most intricate bar he’d ever seen. It was strange that it would be there in the middle of nowhere, but from what little he’d seen of the quaint, neat town, he wasn’t surprised. He imagined that this town would be filled with surprises.

“Whiskey.” Colton stepped up to the bar and propped his foot on the lower rung. He couldn’t help but look out the windows to the fine carriage that belonged to Mr. King. As they pulled away, Ella peered over her shoulder toward the saloon, making Colton’s heart stop. He looked back to the bar, reminding himself that she was King’s property now and not his.

As he slung down his drink, he couldn’t help but think that she deserved better than a man like him. He’d seen his type before—men of wealth who thought that women were property. She would become the property of Mr. King, and would soon be broken. He slammed the empty glass down on the bar a bit too hard. “Another.”

“Hey. Watch it there,” a man dressed in work clothes said to the side of him. “Treat my bar with respect.” When Colton took him in, he appeared to be more of a gunslinger or gang leader than a saloon owner.

Colton nodded as he bit his lower lip. It figured. Another man who thought he was a big fish in this little pond. He took a sip of his whiskey, ignoring the man. Although he was in the mood to get full-blown drunk, he didn’t need to be drunk with men around wanting to start fights.

The overweight man smirked. “Hey! I’m talking to you! Where you from, anyway?”

Colton took another sip of his drink, ignoring the man. He looked up in the mirror that stretched the length of the bar, and everyone started moving away from them. Colton shook his head. He’d been hoping for a fresh start in this little town, but he had a knack for attracting trouble. He should have known that idiots resided in every town. There was no escaping them.

Suddenly, the man slapped a hand hard onto Colton’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m talking to you!”

Without thinking about it, Colton pulled the six-shooter from the holster on his gun belt and held it to the man’s head before the man could blink.

“What were you saying, mister?” Colton asked.

The man’s eyes widened as he held his hands up in surrender. “Hey! I want no trouble!”

Colton drank down the last swig of his drink without taking his eyes off the man, still holding his gun to his head. “Oh. I think that’s exactly what you want.” He set the glass down on the bar, gentler this time. “I don’t want any trouble, either. But if you continue to treat me like a dog, you’re going to get trouble.”

The man narrowed his eyes, nodding slowly. “Understood.” He slowly lowered his hands as he walked away, and proceeded to yell at a young woman clearing off a table. She looked out of place there.

Colton twirled his gun around his finger and then slid it back into its holster. He turned to the bartender and tapped on the bar. “Another.”

The bartender looked shocked by his request. He nodded as he set another glass on the bar and filled it to the brim.

“Where’re you from?” another voice asked.

Colton looked over at the man so quickly that the other man’s eyes widened. “Hey! I come in peace,” he said, laughing as he held up his hands.

Colton looked down at the man’s chest, and a gold star that read SHERIFF was pinned to his leather vest. He also had two six-guns strapped to his sides, tied down around both legs. “Sheriff Daxton Clark,” he added, extending his hand.

Colton looked at him for a moment and then shook his hand. “Colton Hill.” Colton turned his attention back to his drink.

“Don’t mind ol’ Pete,” the sheriff joked as he motioned toward the saloon owner. “His bark is worse than his bite.”

“I’ve seen his kind before, more than once.” Colton took a sip of his drink, letting the warm liquid numb his senses a bit as he tried to get the image of Ella Raines going off with that man out of his mind.

“Say, I could use a fast gun such as yourself around town,” Daxton coaxed. “How would you like a job as a deputy?”

Colton laughed as he took another sip of his drink. He had been taking jobs like this, requiring muscle and a fast gun, for a while, but he was here to start a new life. “If you knew me, you wouldn’t be offering me a job.” Colton placed his drink down on the counter.

“You know, here in Whiskey River, you can start over,” Daxton commented as he leaned on the bar next to Colton, propping his foot up on the foot rail. “No matter what your past, you can make a new life for yourself here.”

Colton nodded as he finished his drink. “I appreciate that, Sheriff.”

“Any thoughts to the job?” Daxton asked.

Colton smiled as he looked him in the eye. “I’ll think about it,” he answered as he extended his hand. “It was nice meeting you.”

Sheriff Clark shook his hand. “The pleasure was mine.” When Colton started to leave, the sheriff called after him, “Think about my offer and let me know.”

Colton nodded. “Thanks. I will.” He thought for a moment, and then asked, “Sheriff, is there any place to get a room?”

Daxton smiled. “There’s a hotel right across the street. The rooms are clean and the prices are pretty cheap. Also, there’s a restaurant downstairs.”

Colton tipped his hat to him. “Much obliged.”

Daxton nodded. “Don’t mention it.”

Colton inclined his head in thanks and walked out of the saloon headed toward the hotel as the image of Ella stepping into that fancy carriage came to mind. But he knew that if he was truly going to make a fresh start, he’d have to get Ella Raines out of his mind first.