Page 8 of That Fateful Ride

“It’s too dangerous. If they were to find out they were sharing a bunk with a woman…” he trailed off and shook his head. “I can’t consciously put you in that situation.”

“You’re not. This is my decision. They’ll never know.” She took several deep breaths. “Please. You have to let me ride.”

He arched a brow. “I do?”

She took a step closer. “What do you want? I’ll do anything to keep you from pulling me.”

“Anything?” His mind whirled.

A cold glint entered her eyes. “Anything. If it takes me whoring myself out to you, I will. I just have to keep riding.”

He’d be one massive liar if he said he didn’t find her attractive. All that smooth skin the color of rich coffee with a splash of milk in it. Lord, it made his fingers itch to touch. Explore. However, having her feel like a whore? Never.

He stroked his chin as he thought about it. She had a point; he’d not known she was a woman until now. The others didn’t know. Moreover, he admired a woman who would help the family. Times were tough. For some more than others. And he didn’t want Robert to lose his position in the company either. He sighed.

“No need to do that. Can you cook?”

She nodded her gaze still unsure of his actions. He recognized the look; he’d seen it many times.

“Help out with the cooking and I won’t say a word. You’re on your own if they find out. You might want to not do anything like this again in the building.”

Even as the words slipped by his mouth, he knew he was full of shit. He would protect this woman until no breath left his body.

Determination filled her straightforward gaze. “They won’t. No one will catch me unawares again.”

Ignoring the demands of his body, he flipped her gun to hand it over grip first. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t.”

Problem was. He already did. This just couldn’t end well.

Chapter3

Rebecca slowed Polaris as she approached the edge of Demon Canyon. Definitely not much in the way to look at visually. Deep in the bottom of the canyon, she glanced around before tucking her chin and rolling up the collar of her coat hoping to combat the wind whipping through the area.

There wasn’t much of anything to Demon Canyon. The complete town lined the road. Heck, she thought Copper Junction, where she lived, was small but compared to this place, it thrived.

Even though there wasn’t much many horses moved along the narrow street, carrying men and pulling wagons. She spied the sign for the General store. Given the coffins out front, she assumed he doubled as the undertaker. Up ahead on her left, swinging in the increasing wind hung a sign she had been on the lookout for.

Right Hand Saloon.

Nerves exploded in her belly and she nearly rode on by only to circle around and head back to the station. Instead, she turned Polaris toward the hitching post out front of the saloon and swung down. Fingering the reins she curved her hand around the leathers before looping them around the post.

“Here I go, Polaris.”

Her gelding twitched his ears but otherwise didn’t seem to be the slightest bit interested in her issues.

“Thanks a lot.” His tail flicked and snapped her on the back. With a glare in his direction, she stomped up the steps and pushed inside. Two things hit her at once. The heat and the smell. Perfume, stale beer and unwashed bodies. Nausea smacked her in the face and she didn’t understand how men could come in here.

Three women looked up from where they walked around the room, delivering drinks and flirting with the men there. Two of the women were white, one with red hair and the other a deep chestnut. The third was of Asian descent. Their dresses were corseted at the top showing off a lot of skin and when one walked around the table, she realized, there wasn’t a skirt to it only a bit of material around her regions.

Averting her gaze, she exhaled sharply and struggled to regain her composure. It wouldn’t do for them to see her blushing and stammering like she was embarrassed.

“Robert.”

Lifting her head she found an older woman walking across the room toward her, her black hair streaked with some gray. Her full figure was impressive as was the way the men all treated her with respect. Unlike the other women, her dress was an actual dress and covered her, even if the top was far more risqué that she would ever wear.

“Sharla is with a customer right now,” she said with a smile.

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