The Gambler Read Free Page A

and get back on it.”
     
    The man grinned and lifted his hand, the
paper he held blowing in the breeze. “Can’t do that, Ma’am.
According to this piece of paper, you’re standing on my property.
If anyone should leave, it would have to be you.”
     
    “I can make you leave.”
     
    He smiled and tucked the deed back into his
jacket pocket. “And I’ll go get the sheriff and have you hauled out
of here like an unwanted squatter.”
     
    She huffed out a frustrated breath, glared at
him for a full minute and turned, walked back inside the cabin, and
slammed the door behind her.
     
    Emmaline placed the gun back on the shelf and
walked to the stove, laying her hands over the top to warm them.
The old hunk of iron was barely throwing off heat but compared to
the brisk wind outside, it felt like heaven.
     
    Her thoughts were a tangle of what ifs. The
man outside wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want the land and her
situation had turned from bad to worse. She should have known
Harold would eventually ruin them beyond repair and now that he
had, knowing she’d been right, it left a bad taste in her
mouth.
     
    The rumbling of her stomach echoed in the
room and the tears she’d been fighting rolled down her cheeks. She
swiped at them angrily, refusing to be beaten, once again, by her
idiotic stepfather’s choices. He’d been a careless bum his whole
life and she’d forgiven him one time too many. Not this time. She’d
never forgive him for leaving her homeless. She couldn’t.
     
    Hearing the door to the cabin open, she wiped
away the rest of the tears and stared at the wall. “I don’t recall
inviting you in.”
     
    “Well, legally, it's my cabin so I don’t need
your permission. You are officially trespassing and unless we can
come to some sort of agreement…”
     
    She whirled and locked eyes with him.
“Evicting me already? Such a gentleman. I bet the ladies just fall
at your feet with such sweet talk.”
     
    He grinned and she tried to ignore the dimple
in his cheek or how much younger he looked in the bright light of
day. He couldn’t have been more than a couple years older than she
was. And he was even more handsome up close. His eyes were bluer
than they appeared in the saloon and his fancy clothes and fresh
barbered look appealed to her. She scowled when she realized she
was looking at him as any woman would a man she found attractive
and reminded herself he was a lying, cheating, murdering dog. “Get
out.”
     
    He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned
back against the door, his smile widening. “Make me.”
     
     
    * * * *
     
     
    Tristan didn’t know a thing about this girl,
other than the man he’d shot the night before was her stepfather
and she was brave enough to sneak into his room to rob him, but he
liked her. She had more gumption than most men he knew and the fire
in her eyes was a welcome change from all the doe-eyed looks women
usually gave him.
     
    He looked around the inside of the cabin and
was confused. She was fighting to keep this? The cabin was one
room, drafty, the light from outside seen through almost every
board and the floor was nothing more than hard-packed dirt covered
in ratty braided rugs. A small bed was against the right hand wall,
the blankets thin and threadbare. A potbelly stove sat in the
center of the room, a small shelf beside it housing a few pots and
bowls. A small table with one chair took up the left hand wall.
Pegs on the walls showed a few articles of clothing and that was
it. Nothing else. It was as barren and gloomy as an outhouse.
Smelled like one too. And this girl lived here?
     
    Removing his hat, he turned his head to look
at her and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m really sorry I
shot your pa. It all happened so fast. I…”
     
    “He was my stepfather and don’t apologize for
him.” She shifted her weight to one foot and Tristan gave her a
good look. She was thin, pale, and the dress she wore should have
been used