Epilogue
It had been a busy night at the Diamond Garter, what with it being payday at the sawmill, and as usual on payday, most of the men stopped by to wet their whistle, dance with the girls, and maybe play a hand or two of cards. By the time the saloon shut down for the night, Sharps’s clothes reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume—even though the girls knew he wasn’t interested, they still tended to drape themselves over him on the off chance he might change his mind.
There were still some men in the Garter, finishing their drinks at the bar or folding their hands of cards at his table
Tobias, the kid who played piano, began the opening chords of “Home Sweet Home,” signaling the evening was coming to an end. He wore a vest, solid at the back but embroidered with vines and leave
