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beneath her weigh as she crawled on the bed and straddled him. She took the cheroot from his fingers and put it in her mouth. Smoke filled her lungs then escaped her lips before she crushed the stub in the glass tray on the bedside table.
    “You’re a lawman,” she said the words with tongue in cheek. As a sheriff, he broke the laws more often than he enforced them. “You’ve seen gunfighters and how they act—all full of themselves. Arrogant. Ready to draw and kill with the slightest provocation. Tell me, does Hunter act like your typical gunman? Does he?” Her finger trailed through the coarse hair on his chest. “All I’m asking is that you check up on him. Have you gone through his room at the boarding house? Have you followed him to see where he goes?” She pinched his nipple and drew a groan from him.
    “Cassie.” Sam reached for her breasts, squeezing her soft flesh hard enough to leave red marks on her white skin.
    With a gasp of pain, Cassandra pushed his hands away though the smile never left her face, letting him think his clumsy attempts at arousing her worked.
    “You should, you know.” She slid down his body and her teeth grazed his flat stomach, eliciting another heartfelt moan from him. Her hand drifted downward. Long, thin fingers wrapped around his stiffening shaft as she planted tiny kisses along the hard muscles of his thigh.
    “Cass,” he moaned as her tongue stroked the hard length of him. “All right! I’ll have Jesse go through his damn room.”
    Cassandra raised her eyes to hold his gaze while her lips poised at the tip of his shaft. “No, Sam, I want you to do it.” Practiced in the art of pleasure, Cassandra knew how to drive a man wild. With great skill, she drew him into her mouth.
    Sam’s hips bucked off the bed and she smiled around the thick flesh between her lips. “What do you say, Sam?”
    “Yes! God, yes!” he gasped, his hands clasping her head to push her mouth closer to where he wanted it. “I’ll do it. Just don’t stop.”
    With a sigh for her ruined coif, Cassandra took him in her mouth again. Sam Townsend had to be the easiest man in the world to manipulate. She knew he would do exactly as she asked.

Chapter Four
    With a quarter moon to light his way, Chase traveled the dusty road toward Crystal Springs. Too many hours in the saddle left him stiff and sore. His bones ached almost as much as his heart and he shifted to relieve some of the pressure off his behind. All he wanted was a drink and a soft bed, not necessarily in that order.
    He doubted he could sleep, though, no matter how comfortable the bed, no matter how exhausted. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his mother’s tear-stained face or the grief-stricken features of Evan’s fiancée, Wendy, who refused to believe the love of her life would never come back.
    What haunted him more was his father’s stoic expression. Jaw tight, face pale, Charles’s soft gray eyes had shimmered with unshed tears when Chase told him about Evan. For the longest time, he hadn’t been able to speak, but when he did, his voice had been raw with suppressed emotion. The words he uttered echoed in Chase’s head. Find the bastards and kill them.
    In all his thirty years, Chase had never seen his father in such a state nor had he ever uttered such words. A federal court judge, Charles knew the law better than anyone. To order his son to kill another human being was testament to the depths of his grief.
    Chase’s heart twisted to realize there was nothing he could do to ease their pain. He couldn’t even ease his own.
    “Almost home, boy,” Chase murmured as he guided Champion over the wooden bridge at the edge of town, the horse’s hooves loud in the stillness of the night.
    Chase shook his head. How he could ever think of this place as home was beyond his comprehension and gave further proof of his weariness.
    Except for the raucous music and raised voices coming from the saloon, Crystal Springs was quiet. A