The hotel's desk clerk handed Vance off to the restaurant's hostess, who politely gestured him to follow her to a table.  But Vance remained where he was at the restaurant's entrance, his gaze set on the [url=http://www.asset1.net/tv/pictures/movie/bram-stoker%27s-dracula-1992/di-Bram-Stokers-Dracula-3.jpg]young beauty[/url] sitting with others who, after just a moment of study, Vance knew were close family.

She was flanked by two men who appeared a bit older than she, and while one of them could have been her husband, a moment of studying them told Vance they were more likely to be brothers, cousins, or the in-law versions of such.  That meant she wasn't married.  Oh sure, her husband could have simply been absent this evening.  But Vance doubted it.  The woman was surrounded by family, and Vance simply didn't see a spouse missing out on this special event.  

Besides, Willow Springs was no longer the kind of place where a responsible husband allowed such a beautiful bride to be out after dark without his protection, even if she had other family members surrounding her.  Once upon a time, the south central Arizona town might have been that kind of place, a community where an unaccompanied woman might have been safe walking the streets separating the homes of neighbors she'd known for years.  But no longer.  

Willow Springs had been a quiet little town with a population in 1875 of just 66 men, women, and children.  The economy had been built around cattle ranching in its early days.  Herds were driven hundreds of miles north to the nearest depots of the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad, from which the cattle were hauled east and west to big city markets.  There was a copper mine just two miles north of town as well, but without a railroad passing very nearby, the costs of transporting the ore by mule train were simply prohibitive.

But all this would change with the arrival of the Southern Pacific Railroad, which would pass by Willow Springs just a quarter mile to the north.  Those in the know -- people with connections inside the SPR -- had been quietly buying up all of the land flanking the future track bed, and even before construction was begun the land was being sold for 10, 20, even 50 times its previous price.  The Richardson Copper mine was bought by an east coast consortium as well, with a railroad spur branching off directly to it to carry its product to smelters in Texas and Louisiana.  

By the beginning of 1880, the population of 66 had swollen to over 1,000.  Hotels, saloons, brothels, opium dens, and a multitude of dry good, clothing, and supply stores sprung up.  Tent cities -- one near the edge of town and one near the copper mine -- expanded to provide housing for an influx of mostly men looking for work.

And while a booming economy was seen as good for Willow Springs, good money always brought with it a bad element.  Gamblers, gun slingers, thieves, con men, and more joined the population, and while Law Enforcement expanded to include a Territory Marshall, a City Sheriff, and at times as many as two dozen Deputies, the guns in the hands of the good were never enough to deal with the guns in the hands of the bad.

And what was Vance?  The good or the bad?  Well, he was neither, actually.  Sure, he conspicuously carried at his waist a Colt .45 Peacemaker, the weapon that would one day be called "the gun that won the west"; and sure, he knew how to use it as good or better than most that carried it or similar weapons; and sure, once again, he'd used it a number of times, taking several lives, often with the result of having to leave his current location or face criminal charges, even hanging.

But Vance didn't like to think of himself as a gunslinger.  He was just a man who happened to carry a quick draw weapon.  Nothing more to it.

All Vance wanted from this world was a comfortable bed in which to sleep or occasionally fuck, a soft neck from which to draw the pint or so of blood he needed every couple of days to prolong his semi-immortal state, a bottle of better than average whiskey or brandy to quiet his mind come sunrise...

And a beautiful, intelligent woman with whom he could spend a few hours talking history or culture or current events...

Like the beauty who looked his way for just a moment before pulling her eyes away as proper etiquette demanded.  Even after she was no longer watching him, Vance continued to watch her a moment.  The hostess, realizing that her guest wasn't following, returned to stand before Vance, asking, "I'm sorry, sir, was there--"

"That one," Vance interrupted, pointing to a table in the opposite direction from where the woman had been taking him.  He headed for the small table, telling her, "I like that one."

He sat and shed his hat, then looked out before him.  And as he'd hoped, the young beauty was directly out before him.  He didn't know if she would look his way, but if she did she would find that his attention was on her most of the remaining time that she and hers were dining.  He ordered a steak -- telling the hostess "So rare that when I stick a fork in it, it kicks" -- then studied the family, and in particular the woman who was causing excitement in a specific location below the level of his gun belt.

At one point, Vance noticed that the bottle from which the family was pouring was empty.  He waved the hostess over, set a gold coin on the real cloth table covering, and asked that she get the family another bottle.  When the hostess delivered the replacement, Vance's attention was on the woman, though he would also be sure to acknowledge and nod or smile to any other family member who glanced his way with appreciation.