Read The Bounty Hunter's Redemption for Free Online Page A

grip on Anna’s arm tightened.
    “Is something wrong?” Anna said.
    “Everything’s fine.”
    Or would be. Once Nate saw Stogsdill rot in jail or buried six feet under.

Chapter Four
    T he grand dame of Gnaw Bone, all three of her stacked chins quivering with intensity, leaned toward Carly. “Surely you can handle my daughter’s wedding gown and trousseau. I’ll pay you well. More money than you can earn in six months or more,” Mrs. Schwartz said, her no-nonsense tone carrying an edge.
    An edge that held a warning Carly couldn’t miss.
    The wealthiest family in town, the Schwartz women gave Carly considerable business. Business she welcomed and appreciated. But the sketch of an elaborate creation Mrs. Schwartz had laid on the counter wasn’t just any dress that could be whipped up in a couple of days. This confection was to be Vivian Schwartz’s wedding gown.
    A spoiled young woman accustomed to the finest. In Vivian’s estimation, the finest wedding gown could only be created in Paris, France. Not Gnaw Bone, Indiana. Vivian had made that abundantly clear—twice—in today’s meeting.
    The bride’s glum expression conveyed her resentment of turning to a small-town seamstress. A miscommunication with the French fashion designer meant the gown and trousseau would arrive long after the ceremony. Telegrams back and forth had riled the designer, who’d refused to rush the order. Apparently the matriarch of Gnaw Bone was no match for a Paris modiste.
    Her auburn hair and pale green eyes partially hidden by a flower-festooned hat, turned up in the back and held in place by two hat pins, Vivian jabbed a manicured nail at the front and back sketches on the counter. “Can you reproduce this dress exactly as you see it here?” she said, her young voice rising to an unladylike shrill. “And I mean exactly , down to the last button.”
    Carly forced a patient smile. “With less than a month till your wedding, there’s no time to send for the exact lace and silk you specify.”
    “Gracious,” Mrs. Schwartz said, her ample bosom heaving, setting the ostrich plumes on her hat in motion. “We would have told you sooner if we’d known about this debacle. Surely you have something similar. At least you had a decent array of imported lace and fabric when I made the selections for my dress.”
    A dress that was almost completed. Almost. And now adding a large complicated order to an already tight schedule...
    Carly’s smile wobbled. “I’m sure I can duplicate the Paris design. I have a bolt of white silk and several options for lace. Would you care to look, Miss Vivian?”
    “Is there no other choice?” Vivian turned to her mother, as if she expected to be whisked off to Paris that very afternoon.
    The melodramatic sigh sliding from Vivian’s lips had Carly wondering if this young woman was mature enough to handle life’s disappointments, much less enter a marriage.
    For Carly they’d been one and the same.
    Would things have been different if she’d waited, been older, more sure of herself and her place in the world? As she was now. She would have seen Max for what he was—a man with no sense of right and wrong—and would have known to refuse his proposal.
    She didn’t plan to marry again, but if she did, she’d marry a man of faith who shared her values.
    Well, that thought was foolish. Besides, no such man was available.
    Nate Sergeant is available.
    Absurd. The bounty hunter was another Max—violent, unreliable and chasing after trouble.
    “Well, are you going to show us the options?” Mrs. Schwartz asked, jerking Carly back to the task at hand.
    “I’m sorry, of course.”
    “Mother...” Vivian whined. “Do I have to?”
    Mrs. Schwartz took her daughter’s emerald-bejeweled hand. “Yes, unless you want to postpone the wedding.”
    “No! What would people think?”
    “Then you must be realistic. I’m perfectly happy using Carly for my dress. She’s familiar with both our measurements, and