she had finally fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning. She had dreamed that Daniel had gotten shot and lie dying, calling out for her. Another time she had dreamed he had come back to her and ordered her to return to Boston. He had told her he didn't love her, had never loved her, and would never love her. And the last dream had been about her begging him to give her another chance.
She sat up in the rumpled bed, tangled in the sheet, felt the grittiness in her eyes, and a lingering tenderness to her bottom. Determination filled her. She was going home to wait for Daniel. They were going to talk out their differences, find a way to make their marriage work. She didn't care if he spanked her every darn day; she loved the stubborn man.
Climbing from the bed, she winced. All right, she'd rather he didn't spank her every day. He could kiss her, hug her, make love to her every day and that would be perfect. But she suspected there would be more than one spanking in her future.
Two hours later she walked downstairs and found Angelica seated at one of the tables talking to her bartender, Rex. She strode right to them and boldly said, "I need to go home."
Angelica smiled. "I've been waiting to hear you say that." She looked toward the large, balding man. "You'll have just enough time to take Jennie and her trunks back to the ranch and get back here before we open."
* * *
Damn he hated riding on a posse. Daniel shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. They had ridden for two days hunting down the gang of outlaws supposedly headed for Dryfork. The wire had been false. But yesterday they had caught up with two other posses also having been warned the gang was headed for their towns. All of them feeling angry about being led wrong, they had decided to stick with tracking the outlaws rather than give up yet again. Daniel and the other sheriffs were determined to find the men and end this game they had too long played.
They were just over the rise on the east side of Dodge City and the sun was blasting down on them. The horses were anxious, whinnying and prancing nervously. The two dozen men in the combined posse were even more anxious. All knew this cat-and-mouse game with the outlaws would end today. Hopefully none of the men on posse would get hurt, but all of them knew it could happen.
"We've been spotted!" one of the men from the Pratt posse yelled out from where he'd been looking over the top of the hill. "They are saddling up!"
Not a man among them was letting the outlaws get away this time. Almost recklessly a group of men closest to the crest of the hill took off riding hell-to-leather down the hill, guns raised and firing away.
"No!" Daniel roared. "Wait!" Fools, all of them. Were they looking to get killed?
He spotted young Tom Balders, the nineteen-year-old son of his neighbor, riding at the back of the group. The fool had bragged about how he was certain he couldn't be killed. How he was a damn good shot. Good shot or not, he was asking to be taken down, riding off that way like an idiot.
Daniel tore off after Tom, his gut telling him to ride harder. Warning him...
He watched in horror as Tom spurred his horse and raced by the other men who had gone with him. He managed to surprise one of the Walton brothers and wing him in the shoulder, but his victory was short-lived. Paxton Walton, the eldest brother and leader, spun around and gut shot Tom off of his horse.
Almost all of the other posse men sped by the fallen kid. Daniel reined in next to him, jumped from his saddle, and raced to the groaning young man. He futilely tried to staunch the wound, but Tom couldn't be saved.
Tom, too, knew it as he looked up into Daniel's eyes. "Tell Ma..." Tom gasped out painfully as he fought for breath. "Tell her I..."
Daniel held his hand against the gaping wound and blood flowed between his fingers from the dying boy. It sickened him. Guilt plagued him for not convincing this hotheaded young man to be more careful. Now
She sat up in the rumpled bed, tangled in the sheet, felt the grittiness in her eyes, and a lingering tenderness to her bottom. Determination filled her. She was going home to wait for Daniel. They were going to talk out their differences, find a way to make their marriage work. She didn't care if he spanked her every darn day; she loved the stubborn man.
Climbing from the bed, she winced. All right, she'd rather he didn't spank her every day. He could kiss her, hug her, make love to her every day and that would be perfect. But she suspected there would be more than one spanking in her future.
Two hours later she walked downstairs and found Angelica seated at one of the tables talking to her bartender, Rex. She strode right to them and boldly said, "I need to go home."
Angelica smiled. "I've been waiting to hear you say that." She looked toward the large, balding man. "You'll have just enough time to take Jennie and her trunks back to the ranch and get back here before we open."
* * *
Damn he hated riding on a posse. Daniel shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. They had ridden for two days hunting down the gang of outlaws supposedly headed for Dryfork. The wire had been false. But yesterday they had caught up with two other posses also having been warned the gang was headed for their towns. All of them feeling angry about being led wrong, they had decided to stick with tracking the outlaws rather than give up yet again. Daniel and the other sheriffs were determined to find the men and end this game they had too long played.
They were just over the rise on the east side of Dodge City and the sun was blasting down on them. The horses were anxious, whinnying and prancing nervously. The two dozen men in the combined posse were even more anxious. All knew this cat-and-mouse game with the outlaws would end today. Hopefully none of the men on posse would get hurt, but all of them knew it could happen.
"We've been spotted!" one of the men from the Pratt posse yelled out from where he'd been looking over the top of the hill. "They are saddling up!"
Not a man among them was letting the outlaws get away this time. Almost recklessly a group of men closest to the crest of the hill took off riding hell-to-leather down the hill, guns raised and firing away.
"No!" Daniel roared. "Wait!" Fools, all of them. Were they looking to get killed?
He spotted young Tom Balders, the nineteen-year-old son of his neighbor, riding at the back of the group. The fool had bragged about how he was certain he couldn't be killed. How he was a damn good shot. Good shot or not, he was asking to be taken down, riding off that way like an idiot.
Daniel tore off after Tom, his gut telling him to ride harder. Warning him...
He watched in horror as Tom spurred his horse and raced by the other men who had gone with him. He managed to surprise one of the Walton brothers and wing him in the shoulder, but his victory was short-lived. Paxton Walton, the eldest brother and leader, spun around and gut shot Tom off of his horse.
Almost all of the other posse men sped by the fallen kid. Daniel reined in next to him, jumped from his saddle, and raced to the groaning young man. He futilely tried to staunch the wound, but Tom couldn't be saved.
Tom, too, knew it as he looked up into Daniel's eyes. "Tell Ma..." Tom gasped out painfully as he fought for breath. "Tell her I..."
Daniel held his hand against the gaping wound and blood flowed between his fingers from the dying boy. It sickened him. Guilt plagued him for not convincing this hotheaded young man to be more careful. Now
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