Chapter 1: Introduction
Squinting against the hazy violet horizon, Drew, a drifter with blue eyes that bore into the ground beneath him, stepped out of the heat onto the town's haphazard dirt street. It was midday, and even the wild dogs laying around seemed to be napping in the suffocating heat. A coyote baying somewhere off in the distance was the only sound, and the unwelcome intruder left the weary dweller feeling oddly isolated.
He wasn't new to the sensation, having spent most of his life on the road, moving from one dying town to another. But Drew had learned long ago that familiarity offered very little comfort.
His boots crunched against the dry, hard-packed soil. It had never rained in this forsaken pocket of the earth. The only plants that managed to eke out an existence were the spiky and uninviting cacti that guarded each house like sentries.
And these too bore a certain air of harshness. The few buildings detectable through the dust storm were old, beaten, and weathered, appearing as if ready to tumble down at any given moment. A single saloon, named Miss Fortune, stood tall among the grand vistas, flaunting a wooden sign with peeling paint boasting of a legendary gambler, Lea Luck, who ministered to insatiable spirits seeking their fortunes.
The rumor mill spoke of her mystical abilities and strategies that could sway the odds in any direction.
Drew approached the entrance of Miss Fortune with a cash-laden satchel hanging from his shoulder. He studied the uneven boards, the faded patterns, and the lingering scent of alcohol and sweat wafting from within. This unremarkable setup of wood and earth hid the dreams of those who sought reprieve from the barren desert and the empty hopes of those who dared to venture in a place where even luck itself was a foreign concept.
Drew, with his skeptical eyes, pulled back the creaky saloon door, letting the cloud of smoke and raucous laughter envelop him.
When his sight adjusted, he saw the typical inhabitants of such an establishment. Card players sat at tables, hands hovering over worn decks, and eyes evaluating, while women in provocative clothing prowled through the space, looking for their newest marks.
Although Drew was attractive, his tattered, dirty attire and dust-covered appearance did little to entice the ladies. His muscular frame was strong from years of drifting, and the blue of his eyes was so intense it almost captivated any who met his gaze.