Promises Linger (Promise Series) Read Free Page B

didn’t let on that the sound or sight bothered her.
    “Let me clarify things for you, Brent,” she offered in that same controlled tone she’d used since walking through the swinging doors. “Because the circuit priest comes through here so rarely, the territory has been recognizing weddings performed by Reverend Pete under common law. As long as both parties are satisfied with the union, there’s no problem.” Her shoulder lifted on a shrug. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not satisfied.”
    Brent wiped at his eyes, stared at the blood on his pants, and looked down the barrel of the revolver. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he finally burst out.
    “I’m saving my ranch from the hands of a wastrel.”
    “You’re saving your ranch!” He dropped his head back against the wall and laughed. “That’s a hoot! The reason it was so easy to pull the wool over your eyes in the first place was because you were in such a big hurry to get married.” He stopped laughing long enough to drive his point home. “Or did you forget the way the men won’t take orders from a woman? Or the way the bank won’t extend credit to a woman? Or the way rustlers have been swooping down on your precious ranch for the last three months ever since word got out that Coyote Bill’s dead?”
    “I haven’t forgotten a thing.”
    “Then you know you need me.”
    “No.”
    “Yes, you do. You need me to run your ranch, just as I need your ranch to fund my amusements.”
    “What I need is a man, Brent Doyle, and I’m afraid that requirement leaves you out in the cold.”
    “She needs a man in more ways than one,” someone interjected from the sidelines.
    Elizabeth bit back the retort that sprang to her lips and let the room’s inhabitants amuse themselves with speculation. She had bigger fish to fry. She searched the room for her friend. When she spotted Old Sam at the bar, she gave him the signal. Before she finished the subtle nod, he was nodding back and rising from his chair. She shifted her grip on the revolver, took a breath and started praying as she followed his progress from the corner of her eye while keeping her gun aimed on Brent. As she suspected, he headed for the table to her right. The closer he got to the stranger with the dark eyes and easy confidence, the harder she prayed. Anyone with a chin that stubborn wouldn’t be easy to sway. And she so needed him to lean her way.
    A tap on his shoulder took Asa’s attention away from his whiskey and the show. The first thing he noticed when he turned was the hat. Battered, ragged and sweat-stained, it had definitely seen better days. The face peering from under the Stetson wasn’t in much better shape. It was tanned the same mud brown as the crown and sported more creases than a ten-year-old letter from home. The gleam in the old codger’s faded blue eyes was speculative, making Asa wonder if the man knew of his reputation.
    “I’m thinking it’d take a hell of a man to tame a pretty little mustang like that,” the old codger whispered, one lid dropping over his eye in a slow wink.
    “At the very least, a brave one,” Asa said by way of response. He took another pull on his whiskey, unable to keep his eyes off the woman. Damn. She was a firecracker under all that tight-ass exterior.
    “Elly always did have a bit of a temper.”
    Asa shot the older man an amused glance. “A temper is throwing dishes at your husband when he walks though the door. This, this is…” He shook his head. “Hell, I don’t know what this is.”
    “I imagine,” the older man chuckled, “Elly has thrown a dish or two in her day.” He swiped the top of his whiskey glass with a filthy sleeve, tossed back the contents, and wiped his bearded mouth with the back of his hand. “It isn’t Elly’s fault she doesn’t let her sweet side show. Coyote Bill brought her up rough.”
    Rough wouldn’t be the word Asa would use. Intriguing was more the way he saw her. Strong. A