He replayed the way Walker’s eyes glittered from under the shadow of his hat, and the sharp cut of his hair against his cheek—far too long to be fashionable, as people said. It lent something of the fey to his look, androgynous and somehow more dangerous than any blade or bullet he carried. Dangerous too the lines of his mouth, how they slanted in that crooked, wicked smile, his lips plush and full as any girl’s.
