“Of course.” He glanced at Safine.

She jerked her head towards the door, false niceties replaced with clipped words. “I don’t need any other payment from you.”

Thanks, preaching, and pleasantries all looked like they wanted to tumble from him like a snake shedding its skin. Instead, Mr. Lane gave a quick “Good night”, and fled the saloon.

As soon as his footsteps left the veranda, Safine rounded on him with a whispered hiss. “You invited himback?”

“If Ridgewater is remembering us, we can’t get rid of him yet. Someone will come looking,” Decker said evenly.

“If he’s related to Elias, he’ll be no different.” Glass cracked as she swept up the broken bottle in short, stabbing sweeps of the broom.

Nudging the battered dustpan closer with his foot, he held it in place. “We can’t afford recklessness. I won’t let anything happen, Safi.”

With a loud clatter, she swept it into the dustpan and jammed the broom into the corner. Gathering her things, Safine glanced at him, her face as sharp as the chips of glass. “If he starts causing problems, he’s gone, whether it’s me or you.”

“Me or you,” Decker promised.