Seth (Prairie Grooms, Book Three) Read Free Page B

scarce remember what they were like. ”
    Colin sighed. “Good ; then you won’t miss them.”
    She glanced at him, then beyond to the prairie and a magnificent sunset. It was a beautiful sight; peaceful, serene, and for a moment, she understood why Colin, Harrison, and Duncan loved it so much. But they’d lived here for ten years, and she was still getting used to it. Perhaps things would be easier once she and Seth were married and settled into their new home. Of the three sisters, she was blessed with being able to live in the most civilized setting and with the most civilized man. Yet, a part of her envied the rugged charm of Penelope’s husband, and the raw, yet gentle, masculinity of Constance’s Ryder. They were men built for hard life on the prairie, and could easily survive. Seth popped into her head, his well-groomed appearance and gentleness was sought after in London; she should be happy that she was getting just what she wanted. But was he made of the same stuff that August and Ryder were? Did he choose to work in the hotel because he didn’t like farming or working with animals? Was it because he didn’t like getting his hands dirty? Could the man even use a gun? Would he be able to rescue her the way Ryder had Constance, if—heaven forbid-- she was ever in a similar situation?
    She shivered. No matter, she didn’t want a man that was so … well, manly. They were wild, untamed, and broke things, usually one’s best tea service. What would she do with such a man?
    She adjusted herself on the wagon seat, sat up straight, and watched the prairie roll by as she continued to convince herself that she was getting exactly the kind of husband she wanted.
     
    * * *
    Seth bent to the floor, got on his knees, and reached under his bed. He pulled out a long, shallow, metal trunk, and hefted it onto the mattress. He stared at the bulky thing, not wanting to raise the lid, for he knew the memories would come. There’d be no help for it.
    He took a key out of his pocket, inserted it into the lock, and opened up his past.
    He stood and stared at the contents.
    Weapons.
    The trunk was full of them.
    He picked up a revolver and turned it over in his hand. The weight was familiar and felt good; its smooth steel body fitting his hand like … like what? An old glove? Or in this case, a better term might be, old love.
    He stared at the rest of his belongings in the trunk. A huge knife and scabbard were there, a pair of folded buckskins, some moccasins, more guns, and finally, his gun belt. He’d not worn it in a very long time; not since coming to Clear Creek. He and Ryder had come to the tiny speck of a town to get away from the violence of their youth. True, they were still young men. But in the last ten years, they’d seen more than any man ought to see in a lifetime. Death had haunted their steps for ages it seemed, and twice it had almost caught up with them. For Ryder, this was the third time …
    Seth set the gun down, and turned to his dresser. He pulled out a pair of workpants, the ones he’d worn while working on the hotel, then an old shirt and a pair of boots. He changed quickly, and donned the gun belt. It didn’t take him long to load his guns, and, putting on his hat, he left the hotel in search of the sheriff.
    He found him in his office , speaking with Henry Fig and Bran O’Hare. “Great Scott, Seth, is that you?” Sheriff Hughes asked as he entered.
    “Sure is. I’m here to join the posse.”
    The three lawmen glanced at one another. “Can you shoot, lad?” asked Bran.
    “Good enough. I can hit things, if that’s what you mean,” answered Seth.
    “Well, we can use all the help we can get,” said Sheriff Hughes. “But ya gotta understand son, this ain’t no picnic we’re going on. This can get mighty dangerous.”
    “I can handle it.”
    Henry looked him up and down. “ What makes you think that? You sit behind a desk all day.”
    “I didn’t always sit behind a desk,