Jude stood hovering over a tall bottle of whiskey and shot glass when Sundog pushed into the saloon and saw him. Walking over to him, Sundog said, “What the hell is wrong with you? If your face gets any longer, we’re gonna have to pick it up off the floor.”
“I just got some bad news.”
“Wanna tell me about it?”
“No, I don’t think I can share this, Sundog. It involves someone else. It’s a can of worms, for sure. You can believe me when I say you wouldn’t wanna know.”
“What’ve you got there?”
Jude looked down at one of his most prized possessions. “It’s a tintype of old Reno.”
“You ain’t had that out in quite a while. What’s the matter, you start missin’ him?”
“Reno gave me this when he knew he was gonna die. Told me not to forget him, and to—”
“Buy me a drink, cowboy?” a soft, sweet,
