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any crime, but they stopped short of cold-blooded murder.
    But something in his gut told him Drew was different. She seemed to have too much pride, to hold herself to a higher standard than she expected of people around her. Cole had known men and women like that. They would actually suffer before they would let themselves fall short of the expectations they’d set for themselves. He’d gotten that message from Drew almost from the beginning, but he’d discounted it because it ran counter to the information his captain had on the group that performed the robberies. She was the only woman who could do what the leader of the thieves had done.
    It had to be Drew.
    He experienced a sharp feeling of disappointment. He didn’t want her to be guilty. If she was, he didn’t want to be the one to catch her. He told himself not to be a fool. He had nothing to do with her being guilty. If he discovered it, arrested her, helped to convict her and send her to prison, he was only doing his job.
    But something inside rebelled against this assignment. For the first time, he felt dirty, underhanded, like he was spying on an innocent person. She couldn’t be guilty. She acted too innocent.
    How did he know that? Drew might be the best actress in the world. He’d just met her today. He didn’t consider himself a good actor, and he’d been able to pass himself off as an innocent bystander, a drifter who saw an opportunity to make money doing something easy. If he could do it, so could Drew.
    But he didn’t want to believe she had.
    Fisher’s Creek, Illinois
    Drew did her best to quell the feeling of excitement. Cole’s idea for her entrance had certainly livened up the beginning of her act. Even the old people in the show had stopped to watch her practice. They had set up in a field about a mile from town. At the first sound of gunshots, a dozen milk cows grazing in a nearby field had lumbered out of sight.
    “It would look better if we moved the targets farther away,” Cole said. “Could you still hit them?”
    “Yes.”
    “Be sure. Nothing would be worse than missing your targets on your entrance.”
    “If I couldn’t hit a still target from a horse, I couldn’t call myself a sharpshooter.”
    “From the saddle.”
    “Yes.”
    “Standing up?”
    “Do you mean standing up on the horse ?”
    “While it’s moving.”
    “I guess so. I mean, I haven’t done it in a long time.”
    “Good. It’ll make an even better entrance.”
    “Come on,” Zeke said. “I’ll hold the horse for you.”
    Drew wasn’t so sure about this. “Doesn’t this get into the area of acrobatics?”
    “Sure,” Cole said, “but that makes it more exciting. You’ll have to take off those boots. Your horse won’t appreciate your heels digging into him.”
    Drew was losing control of her act. She had accepted the idea of making her entrance on horseback. She even liked it. But this business of standing up on a moving horse was something else.
    “Why don’t you ride around the ring a few times,” Cole suggested.
    Drew felt her spine stiffen. “You don’t think I can do it, do you?”
    “You said it had been awhile. It’ll give you a chance to get the feel of it again.”
    He didn’t fool her. He didn’t think she could do it. Well, she wasn’t sure either, but Cole Benton wasn’t going to make her look bad. She sat down and pulled off her boots.
    “I haven’t tried a stunt like this in a long time,” she said to Zeke.
    He laughed. “I remember you doing it just to prove you could.”
    “I didn’t have to hit targets then.”
    Zeke removed the saddle and the saddlecloth from the horse. She would have to ride bareback. She wouldn’t have anything to hold on to, not even the reins.
    “Here, let me give you a hand up,” Zeke said.
    Even though she’d been around Zeke for ten years, she kept forgetting how big and tall he was. He virtually lifted her off the ground and placed her on the horse. Using his hand to steady herself,