Finally, she stopped in the alley between the mercantile and the sheriff’s office. She leaned against the wall, her breath coming in short gasps. A wave of dizziness washed over her. She sank to the dirt until it passed.

Laughter and music drifted through the night air. She got up, and using the wall as a support, she trudged to the alley entrance and looked out.

The swinging doors of the Broken Spur Saloon across the street opened, and two men staggered out. Flattening herself against the wall, she held her breath until they passed by.

Satisfied they’d moved on, Charlie scurried across the hard-packed dirt street and slid a glance into the saloon. Saturday night, and the saloon was packed with men drinking and playing poker. Her gaze drifted to the women casually moving from table to table. Women with painted lips, satin and silk dresses that showed their legs – and that barely covered their private parts. She watched the way the women smiled while the men ran their hands over them …