Sam Legend slid his Colt from the holster, scanning the
area. But his quarry had already disappeared. Sam dropped
the coffeepot and raced toward the horses, wondering if
Weston had seen him through the chink in the wall after
all.
Or was it his damn bad luck at work again? Hell!
With his heart pounding, he didnโt slow until he reached
the cool shadows of the trees.
Would the horses be there?
If Weston had ridden off, he wouldnโt hesitate one second
in taking them all, leaving him and Sierra afoot.
Gripping his Colt, Sam crept closer.
The sound of cushioned hoofbeats reached his ears a
second before a black gelding galloped past a hundred
yards away.
โStop, Weston! Stop, damn you!โ Sam raised his gun and
fired. A large tree trunk shielded the outlaw as he rode
by, the bullet splitting the bark. Weston never looked
back.
Only one thing remainedโsee if the outlaw had left them a
horse, or untied and run them all off.
The overlapping branches had kept back much of the
deluge. Though water dripped from the leaves, the ground
was firmer here. He moved forward, afraid to hope. It
wasnโt for him but for Sierra. She wouldnโt last long
afoot.
He finally glimpsed movement through the leafy forest and
made out the shapes of horses.
Sam gave a sigh of relief. At least they had a way to
travel.
That Weston had again shown a smattering of compassion
came as a shock. Heโd done wrong but had turned around
and tempered it with good. Just like the time heโd shot
Sam in the leg then sent help.
Damn, if he could only figure the outlaw out!
A sound from behind alerted him. Luke doubling back and
sneaking up behind him? He whirled, his finger tightening
on the trigger, and shoved his Colt into the personโs
face.
A jolt raced through him as he stared at Sierra.
She gasped, her eyes wide in fear.
โThought I told you to stay in the shack.โ He hated the
angry words, but he reeled from the shock of how close
heโd come to ending her life.
His jagged nerves had trouble settling for several beats
of his heart. He could still feel his finger pulling back
on the trigger that wouldโve sent a bullet into her.
Samโs hand shook as he returned the Colt to his holster.
โI couldnโt wait. Somethingโs going on. Whatโs wrong,
Sam?โ A quiver in the words spoke of Sierraโs fear.
โWhereโs Andrew?โ
โAndrew Evan is the outlaw Luke Weston, and Iโve been
chasing him nigh onto a year.โ At her soft cry, he put
his arm around her and held her next to him. โI
recognized him this morning when I finally saw him
without his hat. Those eyes are burned into my memory.โ
โI liked him. He seemed real nice. You suspected, didnโt
you? That was the reason for the tension I kept feeling.โ
โI knew he was familiar, but itโs been hard trusting my
instincts lately.โ He smoothed back her tendrils of dark
hair. โForgive me? I almost shot you. Lady, you scared me
out of ten lives.โ
โOf course. I shouldโve done as you told me, only I heard
shots. Itโs my fault.โ
Sam tried to drag his stare from her tousled hair and
soft curves that the trousers did little to hide. She was
a sight for sure. He swallowed hard, trying not to think
about running his hands over her satiny skin and kissing
her until neither had an ounce of breath left.
He felt more like his old self, and he realized it was
because of her. Sheโd fixed him by pushing back the
darkness and allowing light into his life. By giving him
somethingโsomeoneโto be a hero for. A swell of deep
gratitude rose as he struggled to contain his emotions.
โNo, no. I beg to differ, pretty lady. I see no fault at
all with you.โ He looked deep into her blue eyes that saw
only goodness. โSince youโre here, can you help me bring
the mounts to the shack?โ Somehow, someway, heโd return
the horses that didnโt belong to the Ford gang to their
rightful owners.
โSure, Sam.โ Pride, and maybe a little sadness too,
rippled in her pretty eyes. They reminded him of a pale
blue sky. In fact, he wasnโt sure if they were blue or
gray. Maybe a combination of both. Whichever, he loved
looking at them.
Her softly parted lips beckoned like a light that guided
sailors on a dark, storm-tossed sea.
Kissing her was the only thing on his mind. Not Luke
Weston. Not the trials they faced ahead. Not the time
heโd have to spend twiddling his thumbs on the Lone Star
Ranch. He knew he had to taste her mouth or die wanting.
Placing his large hands below her jawline, Sam lowered
his head and gently pressed his lips to hers. Heat pooled
low in his gut as he tasted the tangy sweetness that did
faintly resemble wild honey. Just as heโd imagined.
He tried to hold back, to make the kiss light and
meaningless, but his need for her made it impossible. In
seconds, the gentle kiss turned urgent, demanding a
response.
And Sierra did answer his invitation. With a smothยฌered
cry, she leaned into him, clutching a handful of his
shirt, holding him to her. The passion and desire that
filled Sam seemed to have swept her along.
That she didnโt pull away sent joy through him.
A low moan rumbled in his throat as he slid his hand into
her dark hair. The satiny strands wrapped around his
fingers, tethering her to him. Closing his eyes, he
savored the feel of her soft curves molding against the
hard planes of his body.
In that second he knew heaven wasnโt only golden streets
and angels playing harps.
Heaven was Sierra Hunt in his arms.
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