Shadow Walker Read Free

with him. I’ve come back to search for it. Do you know anything about the missing money? We’re pretty sure Cobb carried it away when the gang split up.”
    Dawn’s expressive blue eyes slid away from Cole. “Billy never told me anything. I was merelyhis slave. I cooked and cleaned and served as his punching bag.”
    “And warmed his bed,” Cole added with a hint of sarcasm. The moment the words left his lips, Cole wished them back. He gazed into Dawn’s haunted eyes and saw bleak despair. He had no cause to remind a woman of her husband’s brutality in bed or out of it. Her battered face was visual proof of her suffering.
    Dawn regarded Cole through hollow eyes. Then, sullen and uncommunicative, she turned away.
    Cole studied Dawn through narrowed lids. Her shoulder bones made sharp ridges beneath the bodice of her faded, far-too-large dress. He could see no visible indication of waist or hips beneath the shapeless garment. Only the telltale rise of firm, rounded breasts gave hint of the womanly form beneath the worn fabric.
    Dawn flushed beneath Cole’s scrutiny. She knew he thought her a scrawny excuse for a woman, but she didn’t care. The less she had to do with men, the better she liked it. She was fiercely glad that Cobb was dead; she had thought of killing him herself many times during the past five years. She was grateful to this man for doing what she had feared doing herself, but the sooner he left, the better. As for the money…. it was hers. Billy owed her for all she’d had to endure as his wife. The money would help her to forge a new life for herself.
    “Are you sure you know nothing about the train loot?” Cole repeated sharply.
    “Billy didn’t confide in me.”
    She was lying. Cole knew it. Yet he couldn’tfault her for wanting the money for herself. Lord knows she deserved it. But he had a job and was honor bound to perform it to the best of his ability. Compassion had no place in the life he lived. At one time it might have, but losing Morning Mist had changed him forever.
    Cole pulled out a rickety chair, one of two that rested on uneven legs beside the scarred kitchen table. “Sit down, Mrs.—er—Dawn. I think you know more than you’re willing to reveal. Keeping that money is a crime even if you didn’t participate in the robbery.”
    Dawn sidled around him warily and perched on the edge of the chair Cole indicated. “I told you, Billy didn’t confide in me.”
    “Did you know about the train robbery?”
    She looked up at him, studying him just as he had studied her a few minutes before. She had never before seen a man with hair the color of his. He was tall and strongly built. Though he was a White man, his skin was almost the same creamy tan as hers. Obviously, he was no stranger to the sun. Nor to vigorous exercise, judging from the well-developed muscles of his legs and torso.
    The taut width of his shoulders stretched the material of his plaid shirt, and his snug-fitting tan pants emphasized the solid muscular thickness of his long legs. A silk neckerchief, leather vest and scuffed boots completed the blatant display of masculinity that would have impressed any other woman but Dawn.
    “I asked you a question, Dawn,” Cole said harshly. “Did you know about the train robbery?”
    Dawn nodded jerkily. She moistened herbruised lips with the tip of her tongue, reminding Cole that she was hurt, possibly more than he realized. Only a heartless bastard would interrogate an injured woman, and he hadn’t fallen that low yet.
    “Do you have some salve in the cabin?” he asked. “Your face needs tending.”
    Dawn gave him a look that spoke eloquently of her distrust of him. “Why do you care? Billy never did.”
    Cole swore with enough venom to make Dawn recoil in fear. “I’m not Cobb. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you and I meant it. Where’s that salve?”
    Beyond speech, Dawn pointed to the cupboard. Cole reached it in two strides, found a round jar of salve inside and