The yawning deputy on duty didn’t want to let her see Rio, but she persisted and finally he led her down a short row of dingy, smelly cells. “Somebody to see you, Mex.” The deputy smirked and left. Rio came to the cell bars. “What are you doing here? I don’t want you in this dump.” “You know I would come anyway.” She looked at him. He was dirty and unkempt and there were dark bruises on his face. “I’m going to get you out on bail.” He shook his head. “They say I’m at risk for fleeing to Mexico. The bail is so high, I can’t make it, and even all my friends together couldn’t raise that much: ten thousand.” “I know several people who can,” she said. She wanted to reach through the bars and stroke his black, tousled hair, but she knew he was embarrassed for her to see him like this. “Go home, Turquoise.” He turned away from her. “This was never meant to be. You wanted more than a poor cowboy will ever have, and I reckon I’m gonna hang. Maybe Edwin Forester is the right choice for you.”
