Mather Reed put his feet on the table, leaning back in his chair and rocking it on two feet. He placed his hands behind his head, intertwining his fingers and closed his eyes, imagining a different life, with beautiful women at his beck and call.
He was startled out of his reverie by the sound of a door opening, and his eyes flew open to see a woman standing in the archway, her face masked by the shadows of her winter cloak.
Suddenly conscious of his pose, he lowered his chair and removed his feet from the table.
"Can I help you, Miss?" he asked a moment later.
"Are you the jail keeper?" she countered, her voice melodic and sultry.
"That"s me," he said, rising to his feet and puffing out his chest. "Mather Reed, at your service."
The woman entered, her eyes barely visible until she r
