Day 7: Alternative Universe
Nobody knew much about the bartender. He’d stumbled into town from nowhere one day, with his face slashed open, more holes in him than a fishing net and wearing so much blood nobody could even tell his skin color.
Two weeks later, he was on his feet and helping Eustace sling booze at the saloon. Nobody knew how that worked either.
Doc almost lived up to the angels she was named after, but that kind of miracle was normally out of even her range. If you tried to ask Jack, he’d just smile and hand you a beer. Then he’d charge you for it, because he was a hardass despite the cute smile.
Jesse tried to pretend otherwise, for propriety’s sake, but Jack was slightly more fascinating than the bottom of a whiskey tumbler. He had a feeling that one day they’d all learn a lot more than they ever wanted to about the guy, but he’d never been a man who believed in delayed gratification.
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