Chapter 2

Jake walked with his friend along the dusty street of Abilene, Kansas. He popped Chris in the shoulder and pointed to the saloon. "We need to talk."

Chris Starke scowled at him. "Leave me alone, Jake. I've had it with chasing steers around, and I have no interest in farming." He pushed through the doors of the Drop Dead Saloon, grabbed a beer, and found a table.

Jake eased himself down into the chair and enjoyed sitting on something that wasn't moving or going to buck him off. He looked at his friend. They'd fought in the war together and survived the ordeal without hardly a scratch, but now they were at their wit's end on how to survive. There were too many men out of work, and after today, they would join them. He went to the bar to get himself a drink, walked back, and stood next to the table.

Chris made a fist and pounded the table. "I'm so angry. I had a life in New York City. Now, I'll never be able to go back. Never."

Jake hadn't known him in New York, but he could guess that Chris never went around with his brown hair past his collar and a beard of stubble lining his jaw. Looking at Chris's hands, Jake nearly laughed. Bankers didn't have dirty, callused fingers either. Chris did not look like a banker. Bank robber, maybe.

Jake had just leaned back in the chair to relax when the doors to the saloon creaked, and the saloon grew quiet. Letting his chair right itself, Jake glanced up to see Drake enter saloon. The rough-looking man walked to the bar. He wore his gun down low, and his smoke-gray eyes told anyone interested to walk and talk lightly. Drake was nobody's fool. The hardened outlaw glanced at Chris and nodded.

Jake leaned forward to get his partner's attention. "Stay away from him, Chris. He's bad news and will take you down with him."

"I didn't say I'd go along with him. He's been friendly to me." The wild look in Chris's eyes spoke past his words.

"Rattlesnakes aren't friendly to anyone. He's playing you, Pal. Don't get caught up in his way of life." Jake sat back as memories of his own past snaked around his mind.

"Get away from me, Jake. I'm tired of doing things right and ending up with nothing." Chris stood, went to the bar, and stood next to Drake.

The outlaw took a swig of his drink and then turned to grin at Chris. "Good to see you. Have you given any thought to joining me and the boys?"

"Thinking about it." Chris stared at him. "I got no love for banks or those working in them." He stared at the man. There was a darkness that surrounded Drake, making Chris shiver. Maybe Jake was right.

"You fought with the blue?"

Chris glared at him. "I did. That a problem?"

Drake shook his head. "We're all Union and bent on taking it out on any rebs we find. They need to pay for what they did to the country."

Jake waited and watched his friend talk to the outlaw. Drake and his gang were noted for robbing Southerners trying to flee the ravaged South with their money. Jake had no love for the South, but he wanted to forget the war and start a new life. The war had ended, and they needed to stop fighting it.

Finally, Drake left and sauntered over to the gambling tables. Jake wondered whose money Drake was going to wager. The outlaw only took from others, never earning any of his own.

Jake waited for Chris to come back. He always did. His friend played close with the wild side but always returned as if the good in him overcame the evil that was trying to tear him away. Finally, after Chris watched Drake for a few minutes, he made his way back to the table.

With a grin, he nodded to Jake. "What were we talking about? Oh, yeah. Money. Now that the cattle drive is over, what are we going to do?"

Hearing the mocking tone of Chris's voice, Jake pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. Proxy brides. What Chris needed was a good woman to settle him down and make him see that breaking the law was not the way to start over.

But how was he going to get Chris to agree? Jake ran his thumb over the glass in front of him. It wouldn't take much. Sheila would go along with the idea. Jake was sure he could talk her into it. He saw her come down the stairs and stare at him. She wanted out of her contract. Maybe Jake could make a deal with her and buy her freedom from the barkeep.

He rose and went to her. "Sheila, I have a favor to ask."

She smiled. "Anything for you, Jake." She latched onto his arm as if he were a life-saving tree in a raging river.

"I need you to stand with Chris during a proxy bride ceremony. We might have to give him some drinks to get him there. All you have to do is stand by him."

She frowned. "I don't want to marry Chris." Her eyes told Jake who she did want to marry, but he was ignoring her plea. Finally, she sighed. "I'll do it. Chris is a good man and deserves a good woman. How do you know he's going to get someone that will help him?"

"Just a hunch. I've got to do something to keep him away from Drake."

Sheila nodded as a look of fear grew in her blue eyes. "Yes, I agree. When is this ceremony to take place?"

"Three o'clock today." Jake led her to their table. Chris had returned and was looking for him.

Sheila played the part, went to the bar, and got some drinks to take to them. "Here you go, boys. Drink up. I'm tired and want to sit with you, so you'll have to humor me." She grinned at Chris.

Playing along, Chris smiled. "Anything to help a friend." He eyed Jake. "Happy now? I told Drake I wasn't ready to sign up with him yet. But I'm tired of going without. It was the banks that profited from that war. Old men who sent us off to fight for them while they made money."

Jake continued running a finger around the rim of his mug. "You sound bitter, Chris."

"Might be because I am. Don't you think I have every right to be? I was set to be a big shot on Wall Street. Maybe to be bank president someday. But they sent me to fight. The rich paid to get out of the war. You know I told you Sinclair wanted to get rid of me so he could take my place. He was drafted, but he could afford to pay someone to take his place. I did some checking, and he took over my position and is up for bank president now."

Jake shook his head. "That was one man. One bank. Why don't you buy a suit and try to get a job in a bank in Abilene?"

Chris swallowed the rest of his beer. "You know why. That life is dead. That is if I don't count joining Drake's gang."

"You don't want to do that." Jake watched as Sheila made her way to the bar to get more drinks. They had an hour before the ceremony. "You'd end up in jail or worse. Drake is not a good leader. Ask yourself why he always needs new men, and he never gets caught or shot."

Chris grabbed a beer from the tray Sheila brought over. "I don't want to talk about it."

"We have some money saved up. We're not as poor as you make us out to be." Jake waved off another drink. Chris should be just about reeling now. He'd seen Drake ply his friend with a couple of shots of whiskey. Neither he nor Chris were used to drinking the hard stuff.

Sheila put her hand on Jake's wrist. "I think this should do it. Have you told him yet?"

Chris sat back and looked tired.

Jake shook his head. "Chris, I have an idea." He passed the ad from the newspaper to his friend. "I think what we each need is a good woman."

"Get married?" Chris stared at him.

"Just the other day, you were saying you were ready to settle down and have a family." Jake left the paper in front of him.

Chris picked up the ad. "A proxy bride? Is that like a mail-order bride?"

"Sort of. But when she comes to you, you'll already be married to her."

"Oh. That sounds convenient." Chris breathed a heavy sigh. "I did say I needed a good woman, didn't I?" Chris stared at him. "I think you're setting me up for something. I don't want to get married."

"Would you do it for Sheila?"

Chris held his head. "For Sheila?"

Jake smiled. "Stand with her so she can get a man?"

"Why don't you? She's more your girl." Chris struggled to keep his eyes open.

"She wants you to stand up for her." Jake nodded at Sheila. "It will only take a few minutes."

"Oh, I guess so." He leaned back in his chair. "When is this proxy thing?"

Jake stood up. "We need to go now." He grabbed Chris's arm and pulled him out of his chair. "Sheila, can you get away from the saloon for a few minutes?"

She nodded. "Bart owes me. Let's go." She took Chris's other arm, and together, they led him to the stage office where the ceremony would be held. There were ten other couples. Some men were looking for a wife, and a few women were looking for a husband.

Jake went to the man who was setting it up and gave him the money. "Chris Starke needs a good woman. One that's around twenty-five and pretty."

The minister looked at him. "And you?"

"I just brought my friend."

Looking at Chris, the preacher frowned. "He's drunk. Does he know what he's doing?"

"Yes, sir. He's been talking about getting a wife for some time." Jake knew that was a lie, but Chris had talked about settling down a time or two. And having a good woman might just be what would keep Chris from going into the wrong end of the banking business.