there was one thing he could not stand, it was definitely holing up, and feeling caged like a wildcat.
Two weeks s eemed like a prison sentence. The only thing, which kept his thoughts sane, was the delectable image of his hostage. Envisioning her dark auburn -hair and bewitching bottle green eyes sent his pulse spiraling. He hated leaving her behind. Any sane man would have stayed, but he, Luke Shelton, wanted man in six counties had no other choice but to abandon the woman to the wild. Furious, he grit his teeth, feeling his heart quicken at such a despairing thought. He was a w anted man, dead or alive. Now how in the hell did he end up in such a fractious predicament?
Yes , he had held up a bounty in payrolls, he had rustle d some horses, an d even lifted a few willing skirts , but he had never physically harmed a single soul. To his amazement, the p rice on him and his gang’s head doubled with each passing day, and the notion of wanted dead, more so than alive stifled his patience.
Leaning back in a portico chair, he ran a hand through his russet mane while scanning the heavens above. It was hotter than Hades on the western plains without a hint of cloud to cover the brilliant blue sky. In the distance, rolling hills stretched for miles on end, not a rider within sight . Impatient, he began to fidget in his seat, craning his neck as far as the eye could see.
Damn bu t Jake, what was taking so long? He had sent h is younger brother to town early this morning and stil l there was no sign of him .
“What’s got you riled?”
Luke whirled around.
With hand on pistol, he eyed the youngest of his brother s with precise calculation. Trigger Shelton stood in the doorway. His cobalt -eyed gaze seemed the least bit concerne d as he turned a lazy smile.
“Trig.” Luke released a rattled breath. “Don’t you ever sneak up on me like that again, you hear?”
“Where’s Jake?”
“Hell if I know.” Luke muttered.
Trig guffawed. Shaking his head, he descended the porch, and kept on walking with purpose.
“Crazy old cuss is probably drunker than a stinking mu le skinner. I warned you should have sent me instead.”
“Where the hell are you going?” Luke demanded.
“Fire me off a couple rounds.” Trig grumbled. “I can’t stand this damn blasted idleness.”
Luke did not have the heart to say no. Usually, he did not allow for calling unwanted attention, but given the circumstances, he had no choice but to ma ke an exception.
Since their older brother Cole ’s tragic death, the kid seemed withdrawn, yet strangely driven to a point of deep-seeded distraction. It seemed the only thing, which mattered to the kid was his handy pistol.
“Luke!”
The sound of Jenny’s voice trilling made him lurch in his seat once again. He turned around, finding her standing at the front door, resting a basket on her protruding belly. With an apologetic smile , she winced, and then said softly .
“Dinner’s on the table.”
Luke nodded, returning a half smile. With corn-silk hair, and doe-like eyes, Jenny was an alluring little thing. She was not his true sibling though he treated her just the same. Widowed and with child, she’d no other family, and so being the mother of his deceased brother’s child, it seemed only natural to take her in as one of their own.
“Uncle Luke?”
“Samuel.” He answered, meeting the gaze of a seven-year-old child . Luke could not help but smile, the boy was the spitting image of Cole . “What’s on your mind?”
“After dinner, can you show me how to whittle?”
“Well now t hat depends.” He returned making sure his gaze turned dead serious. “Did you get all those chores done for your momma ?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well then, I suppose your momma has the last word.”
Samuel t urned an expectant pair of brown eyes toward his mother. “Can I, momma ?”
“Sam .” Jenny
Two weeks s eemed like a prison sentence. The only thing, which kept his thoughts sane, was the delectable image of his hostage. Envisioning her dark auburn -hair and bewitching bottle green eyes sent his pulse spiraling. He hated leaving her behind. Any sane man would have stayed, but he, Luke Shelton, wanted man in six counties had no other choice but to abandon the woman to the wild. Furious, he grit his teeth, feeling his heart quicken at such a despairing thought. He was a w anted man, dead or alive. Now how in the hell did he end up in such a fractious predicament?
Yes , he had held up a bounty in payrolls, he had rustle d some horses, an d even lifted a few willing skirts , but he had never physically harmed a single soul. To his amazement, the p rice on him and his gang’s head doubled with each passing day, and the notion of wanted dead, more so than alive stifled his patience.
Leaning back in a portico chair, he ran a hand through his russet mane while scanning the heavens above. It was hotter than Hades on the western plains without a hint of cloud to cover the brilliant blue sky. In the distance, rolling hills stretched for miles on end, not a rider within sight . Impatient, he began to fidget in his seat, craning his neck as far as the eye could see.
Damn bu t Jake, what was taking so long? He had sent h is younger brother to town early this morning and stil l there was no sign of him .
“What’s got you riled?”
Luke whirled around.
With hand on pistol, he eyed the youngest of his brother s with precise calculation. Trigger Shelton stood in the doorway. His cobalt -eyed gaze seemed the least bit concerne d as he turned a lazy smile.
“Trig.” Luke released a rattled breath. “Don’t you ever sneak up on me like that again, you hear?”
“Where’s Jake?”
“Hell if I know.” Luke muttered.
Trig guffawed. Shaking his head, he descended the porch, and kept on walking with purpose.
“Crazy old cuss is probably drunker than a stinking mu le skinner. I warned you should have sent me instead.”
“Where the hell are you going?” Luke demanded.
“Fire me off a couple rounds.” Trig grumbled. “I can’t stand this damn blasted idleness.”
Luke did not have the heart to say no. Usually, he did not allow for calling unwanted attention, but given the circumstances, he had no choice but to ma ke an exception.
Since their older brother Cole ’s tragic death, the kid seemed withdrawn, yet strangely driven to a point of deep-seeded distraction. It seemed the only thing, which mattered to the kid was his handy pistol.
“Luke!”
The sound of Jenny’s voice trilling made him lurch in his seat once again. He turned around, finding her standing at the front door, resting a basket on her protruding belly. With an apologetic smile , she winced, and then said softly .
“Dinner’s on the table.”
Luke nodded, returning a half smile. With corn-silk hair, and doe-like eyes, Jenny was an alluring little thing. She was not his true sibling though he treated her just the same. Widowed and with child, she’d no other family, and so being the mother of his deceased brother’s child, it seemed only natural to take her in as one of their own.
“Uncle Luke?”
“Samuel.” He answered, meeting the gaze of a seven-year-old child . Luke could not help but smile, the boy was the spitting image of Cole . “What’s on your mind?”
“After dinner, can you show me how to whittle?”
“Well now t hat depends.” He returned making sure his gaze turned dead serious. “Did you get all those chores done for your momma ?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well then, I suppose your momma has the last word.”
Samuel t urned an expectant pair of brown eyes toward his mother. “Can I, momma ?”
“Sam .” Jenny