Plum Pudding Bride Read Free Page A

gun steady despite the recoil.
    Patience’s eyes opened a little wider. She’d never seen him discharge a gun before. The gun smoke puffed up to his chest and powder residue covered his hands. She’d never noticed how strong his hands were.
    Jerking to his feet, injured leg notwithstanding, the criminal ran forward.
    Raising the gun, Peter brought the pistol butt down hard over the man’s head. The robber fell unconscious.
    “Kitty.” Peter’s voice was tight. “This gun is loaded.”
    His first thought was for her sister, not her? Patience got up, brushing the mud from her destroyed skirt. Peter always thought of her first. Even that time at the barn raising when she was competing in the cornhusking bee and he’d slipped her five of his ears so she could win the heifer she wanted, he’d thought of her first.
    “That’s not the man I hired.” Kitty’s face was pale as death.
    Hired?
    “Oh.” Peter took a deep breath and swallowed so hard Patience could hear it. “Well.” Peter paused.
    He glanced over to the wagon the man had been driving. One of the horses had spooked in the gunfire, but the other stood steady, dragging the wagon around in a circle. There was a length of rope in the back. “I guess we’ll get this man to Sheriff Westwood.”
    Peter bound the man and, with a few heaves, managed to roll him up into the wagon.
    A noise came from behind.
    Patience turned towards it.
    Far back on the road, another wagon careened down the road, raising dust.
    A scowl crossed Peter’s face. “We’re going home.” Grabbing the arms of both young women, he handed them up to the buckboard.
    ~*~
    Patience winced as she put weight on her left foot. It had bruised in her tumble on the road. But it wasn’t bad. There was just enough pain to be a thrilling reminder of the excitement of that hour. She placed the raspberry jam behind the boysenberry.
    Peter was sweeping the store with vigorous brushstrokes. The dust sailed knee-high as straw broom bristles thwacked against the wood. He almost made the activity look heroic. And the way he braved gunfire today…it had been spectacular. A manly black-and purple bruise stretched from the right side of his jaw to his ear.
    Standing the last peppermint stick in its place, Patience sidled closer. She smiled at Peter. “You saved my life today.”
    “It was unintentional.” His teeth gritted shut. Setting down the broom, he pulled out his ring of keys and marched to the back of the store.
    For the first time in a long time, she followed him. She really must express the depth of her gratitude.
    In the back, he shoved aside several bolts of calico and dug his key into a heavy lock. The cabinet swung open with a puff of dust.
    “I wanted to say—”
    He pulled a pistol out of the cabinet and stuck it inside his pants.
    “I didn’t know you carried a gun.” She stared at him.
    “I didn’t.” His jaw was set and he didn’t look at her as he shoved his shirt back in, covering the gun handle.
    This wasn’t the Peter she knew. “Thank you again for saving my life.”
    “I let you come within seconds of death. I should have shot the man the minute he stepped off that wagon. Next time, I will.” Peter stooped to pick up a box of canned goods and swung it up to his shoulders.
    “Oh.” Her lips parted as her jaw sagged a bit.
    “I have a present for you.” He set the box on top of another.
    “For me?” She tried to drag her gaze off the bulge of the pistol on his hip. She’d never noticed how easily he swung up those crates of merchandise.
    “For you to give to Kitty. I thought she’d like it.” Peter was still speaking uncharacteristically gruffly as he grabbed another box.
    “So you had a good time with Kitty?” It was what she wanted. Her sister and Peter. But how quickly he’d switched affections. Peter had loved her since forever, so shouldn’t he take at least six months to mourn her marrying another man?
    “Superb.” Leaning over another crate, he