Annabelle Weston Read Free Page A

under his boots as he made his way to the bar. A barkeep, skinny as a pike, greeted him with a nod.
    Jed set his rifle down and leaned back—his elbows resting against the scarred wood. Beer had dripped from the nearest table, leaving a pool on the floor. Men were passed out, heads on tables. Saloon dollies walked around picking up empty glasses.
    One of them, a girl with a birthmark on her cheek, was pulled onto a lap, squealing. She nuzzled her customer like a feline.
    Jed quirked a brow when he spotted a woman in the corner kneeling between a man’s thighs, obviously pleasuring his cock with her mouth.
    Nobody paid any attention to Jed.
    “ What’ll you have?” the barkeep asked behind him.
    Jed turned around. His throat was dry and a whiskey would taste mighty good but there was work to do.
    “ How about some coffee?”
    The man stifled a yawn. “You’re in the wrong place for coffee. You could try Rosy’s a couple of blocks to the west.”
    “ Got any water?”
    “ Have some cool ice house water brought down from the mountains. Cost you a silver dollar for a glass full.”
    “ I’ll take some.”
    The barkeep obliged him with a clean glass and a bottle. “Haven’t seen you in here before.”
    “ I’m new in town.”
    He poured Jed a drink.
    Jed tossed a silver dollar onto the counter and the man grabbed it up. He walked away muttering about a fool and his money.
    “ Mighty odd for a man to walk into a saloon and order coffee.” The voice came from upstairs.
    Jed glanced up and into the eyes of an angel—albeit a rather fallen angel but beautiful nonetheless. He gulped, surprised to see such a vision on a balcony in a hot and dusty town like Tucson.
    She was wrapped in a silky red robe with black lace around the edges, leaving her shoulders bare. She gripped the railing, showing off shapely legs. She licked her bottom lip as she boldly assessed him.
    Her blonde curls tumbled to her shoulders in a tangle, giving the impression of a reckless breed. Her skin was creamy perfection—but no longer with the bloom of youth. Her lips were red…and swollen, a bruise marred the corner of her mouth and cheek.
    Someone had slapped her hard. He winced and then regretted it. A woman wouldn’t take kindly to him noticing such things. Nor would she want him to pity her.
    “ Cat got your tongue?” Her smile was wicked.
    “ No ma’am,” he said.
    She shrugged and leaned over the railing, her smile widening. Her robe opened to reveal the tops of a pair of smooth, silky breasts, pushed high and full from a black lacy corset.
    Jed swallowed hard. He couldn’t take his eyes off her breasts. He swore if she
    moved just another inch her nipples would pop right over the top of that corset.
    “ Like what you see?” She leaned even farther over the railing.
    He held up his hands. “Don’t lean so far, you’ll fall.”
    “ Wouldn’t that be a hoot? You’d have to find someone else’s breasts to ogle.” She laughed, swirled around, the robe lifting enough in the back for him to see the curve of her ass.
    She was pretty but she was trouble. He’d been on the trail for a spell and any woman would be a welcome sight.
    With a careless sigh, she descended the stairs. A wrangler stepped up to meet her, took her by the hand and twirled her around. She stumbled and plopped down in the nearest chair. Her dance partner frowned and turned his attention to a big-breasted woman who obliged him with a hug.
    “ Who is she?” Jed asked the barkeep.
    “ That’s Carly Buchanan, owner of this place,” the man answered, a protective edge to his voice.
    Jed whistled low in his throat. “That little gal is the owner?”
    “ She runs a law-abiding establishment.”
    Jed wouldn’t be so foolish to suggest otherwise. “Appears she’s had a rough morning.”
    “ Some shithead wrangler drugged her and beat her. Brought his weasel friend too. Wish I’d known, else I would have beaten the men into bloody pulps, but she didn’t