Read Quicksilver Passion Online
Authors: Georgina Gentry - Colorado 01 - Quicksilver Passion
I already know which one I want,” Cherokee drawled, but the bartender had moved on down the line to serve the rowdy crowd.
Cherokee reached for his tobacco, ignoring the grinning, whiskered man next to him.
Looky here, boys, coffee in a bar! Next thing you know, Al’ll be servin’ lemonade and sugar cookies!”
The men up and down the bar laughed and nudged each other.
He must not lose his temper. A brawl would interfere with his primary purpose—bedding that blonde. Besides, his Cherokee grandmother had taught him restraint. With the saloon full of white men who might relish any excuse to gang up on him, he’d be a fool to start a fight. He should have listened to Grandmother’s warning about whiskey before it caused him to betray a friend.
Might not be a bad idea.” Cherokee finished rolling a cigarette and grinned.
Most of us like sugar cookies.”
The burly man looked disappointed.
You’d let a man say something like that without sluggin’ him?”
He must not be baited into a fight. The fact that he could kill the man who taunted him would prove nothing. Cherokee took a deep breath to restrain himself and stuck the cigarette between his lips.
No offense meant, none taken.”
One of the others, obviously made bold by Cherokee’s lack of temper, sneered at him.
In a saloon, grown men drink whiskey, cracker!”
Georgia cracker
. By damn! How many times had he been called that? He could never get the drawl out of his deep voice, no matter how hard he tried. Well, it was better than
Injun,” or
’breed.”
Cherokee forced himself to grin back.
Don’t I look big enough to be a grown man?”
The others looked him up and down, seeming to be suddenly aware of his size, and drew back.
First time I been in here,” Cherokee drawled, hoping to distract his tormentors.
I’ve been snowed in all winter and was out in Nevada before that.”
The Nugget’s the best there is, stranger,” a rumpled, mustached man at his elbow said,
purtiest girls and honest card tables. Silver won’t allow it no other way. I’m Doc Johnson, the town sawbones.” He held out his hand, genuine friendliness in his old face.