Page 26 of Small Town Hunter

Oh.

Okay.

When I close my eyes, I dream. I see the Reverend’s mansion, which would have been my new home. Seven bedrooms, five bathrooms, infinity pool, home theater, tennis court, and a pavilion…an acre of land to garden.

But right now I don’t care about that. I’m in the bedroom,my bedroom suite. I’m wearing…nothing.

Nothing at all.

I lie back on the silk sheets of the imaginary bed, pressing my feet into the eiderdown mattress. There’s a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I murmur. I’m not afraid because the man entering the room isn’t the Reverend. He’s myrealhusband. The man I love, the man I married.

Tall, with dark brown hair.

The mattress sags as he climbs into bed with me and his long, hard body stretches above mine. Our lips brush together. He smells like a man. Likemyman. There’s a gentle touch between my legs.“First, darlin’,”he whispers, “We’ll start right here…”

FIVE

CRASH

BEEEEEEEEEP!

A white truck pulls up in front of the motel, and I know it’s trouble even before the gentleman in the sharp black tux exits the vehicle.

I’d wager his white Stetson with the gator-skin braid and turquoise clip cost as much as the tires on that Ford King Ranch, and I’d also bet the closest this cowboy’s come to wrangling steer is cutting a ribeye steak. He’s old enough to be my father and just like my old man, the purple hue of his face would indicate he’s in one hell of a temper.

“Trina!” He roars.

“Sir! Mister Wilson, sir!”

“Where is she?” He barks at the front-desk girl, who I see now, hurrying out to meet him. Reverend Wilson bellows at this unfortunate, “What room?”

“She — she — Reverend Wilson, sir,” the girl bleats.

Wilson pushes past her and bellows, “TRINA WHITELEAF!”

I move away from the window. Trina wriggles upright in the bed. “Huh?”

Her incredible hair tumbles over her sleep-drugged face.

“Whiteleaf! We can do this the easy way or the hard way, ” Wilson calls from the parking lot, his voice resonant as if it came from the pulpit. “Come on out, let’s face it. I came alone. Just you and me, darlin’. You know I’d never hurt you.”

Trina leaps out of bed, giving me a delectable view of something I probably shouldn’t have seen, and she hurries over to the window, standing so close to me I can smell her rosewater hair.

I get a better look at Wilson’s face and that’s when I know immediately and without question he is not one to be reasoned with.

He came alone indeed. Confident. A bully used to getting his way.

I look down at Trina.

By Jesus, I can’t believe I’m getting involved in this.

I start moving. “Stay in here and don’t do anything stupid,” I order her.

Of course she ignores me. She’s already hurrying to the door with no sense of personal danger. I reach for my gun, which I hope I won’t have to use, but in a pinch will remove the need for any explanation. I know this doesn’t look good for me; it would seem to all reasonable people that me and Trina are lovers making a last-minute getaway.

“What’s that for?” Trina screeches when she sees the strap.

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