by Ann Charles
One emerald green eye opened, then the other.
I let go of his hair. “Wake up and tell me I killed the bastard,” I said, my voice hoarse from lack of use.
“Sorry, Shooter. You missed.” He stood and stretched. His gaze traveled over my face, assessing.
“Water?” I asked.
He grabbed a pitcher from the tray and poured some in a cup, holding me up while I drank and drank.
With his help, I sank back into the pillow, wincing from a bolt of pain in my shoulder. “Did I even come close?”
“No. I did, though.” He sat on the bed, leaning over me. His fingers traced my face, like he was memorizing every bump and hollow. “He won’t be bothering you ever again.”
“Damn it, Joel. That was supposed to give me closure after the years of hell he put me through.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you did blow a hole in the jukebox.”
“What about Buffalo?”
He scooted closer. “He has a broken arm from tackling your ex.”
“Before you shot him?”
“After.”
“Brunhilda?”
“Fat and happy, as usual.”
“You?”
“Fit as a fiddle.” He squeezed my hand. “You, on the other hand, had a bullet leave a groove in the left side of your skull and another rip a hole through the meat on the outside of your left shoulder. Do you remember anything from that night?”
I thought about the dream that had kept replaying in my head, the details all blurred together. “I remember blood. A lot of blood.”
“Head wounds are like that. You had to get staples.”
That explained the throbbing on that side of my head. “I remember sex in my office.”
He grinned wide. “You rode me like a rodeo queen. I’m going to need a repeat of that. I’m thinking chaps and a thong, maybe some tassels and spurs.”
“Okay,” I licked my dry lips. “But what am I gonna wear?”
He laughed, leaning down to kiss my nose. “What else do you remember, sweetheart?”
“Hitting my head.”
“You nearly cracked the bar with your thick skull when you fell. The lump blossomed into a pretty purple bruise.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Two days after the ambulance ride here. At first they kept you out in order to get you all patched up. Then you went in and out of consciousness thanks to the pain meds, but mostly out.”
“Where’s here?”
“The regional hospital in Cottontop Flats.”
“My dad?”
“He’s resting at a hotel nearby.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, something niggling at my memory of it all. “I remember you telling someone to freeze.”
“Your ex wasn’t alone. His girlfriend snuck in the back door. She took off when I drew on her. Rick tracked her down, found her hiding in the boarded up old high school, and locked her up. She’s going to go away for a long time.”
I reached up and touched the left side of my head, grimacing as I brushed over the staples and shaved hair. “I tripped over that damned dog.”
“That ‘damned dog’ probably saved your life. You should have seen all of the bullet holes in the bar.”
“Buffalo will probably want to have a parade for his heroic mutt.”
Joel’s smile flat-lined. “You scared me on the ride here, Shooter. With all of that blood you lost, I was afraid you wouldn’t come back to me.”
Come back to me, Montana.
That explained why he kept saying that in my dreams. My throat tightened. Careful not to jar my shoulder, I scooted over, patting the bed next to me.
He glanced at the door then climbed in next to me, mindful of the needle in my arm. He brushed his beard stubble over my forehead as he held me close. “You missed Christmas.”
“You’ll have to make it up to me at New Year’s.”
“It’s a deal. Do you remember saying you’d marry me?” he asked.
It was my turn to laugh. “Good try, Andersen.”
“Laugh it up, Montana, but Santa left you a little package under the tree.”
“Isn’t that sweet,” I said, still smiling. “But Santa knows I like my packages big.” I reached down and squeezed him through his fly. “This will do me just fine.”
His surprised cough morphed into a raspy chuckle. “I can’t believe I’m in love with such a salty wench.” The tender brush of his lips over my temple smoothed away the last burrs of my resistance.
“Okay,” I said, staring up at the television as Clint Eastwood rode off into the horizon.
“Okay what?”
“I’ll wear your ring.”
He sat up, gaping down at me. “No shit?”
“No shit.” I reached up and ran my knuckles over his scruff. “But I’m keeping The Ugly Rooster.”
He grinned. “You’ll have to make moving back worth my while.” He bent down, his lips feathering over my face. His hand traced my contours through the cotton pig-covered gown. “Let’s start with those tassels and spurs.”
I caught his roving hand and held it over my heart. “Don’t forget the chaps and thong.”
“Trust me, Shooter, I won’t. I think I’ll include them in my wedding vow.”
The End … for now.*
*(Stay tuned for an all-new full-length novel about Montana and Joel—the first in the Goldwash, Nevada mystery series—coming in early 2014.)
Also by Ann Charles
The Deadwood Mystery Series
Nearly Departed in Deadwood (Book 1)
WINNER of the 2010 Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense
WINNER of the 2011 Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart Award for Best Novel with Strong Romantic Elements
“Full of thrills and chills, a fun rollercoaster ride of a book!”
~Susan Andersen, New York Times Bestselling Author of Burning Up
“Ann Charles has written an intriguing mystery laced with a wicked sense of humor. Watch out Stephanie Plum, because Violet Parker is coming your way.”
~Deborah Schneider, RWA Librarian of the Year 2009 & Author of Beneath a Silver Moon
Overview…
“The first time I came to Deadwood, I got shot in the ass.”
~Violet Parker
Little girls are vanishing from Deadwood, South Dakota, and Violet Parker’s daughter could be next. She’s desperate to find the monster behind the abductions. But if she’s not careful, Violet just might end up as one of Deadwood’s dearly departed.
Seeing Trouble
(From the Deadwood Shorts Collection)
From the Multiple Award-winning, #1 Bestselling Ghost Horror and Women Sleuth Author of the DEADWOOD MYSTERY SERIES!
A short 39-page collection to entertain and add background story for more Deadwood fun!
Overview…
What do you get when you combine a chicken named Elvis, a locked diary, and a secret Violet Parker does not want share with her daughter?
Seeing Trouble is the first of many short stories involving the characters of the Deadwood Mystery series. (Bonus character interview, illustrations, and short story included.)
Haven’t read any of the Deadwood Mystery Series books yet? Don’t worry, there aren’t any spoilers in this short story.
The Jackrabbit Junction Mystery Series
Dance of the Winnebagos (Book 1)
Bestseller in Women Sleuth Mystery and Romantic Suspense!
“Ann Charles delivers laugh-out-loud dialogue, unforgettable characters, and pulse-pounding suspense.”
~Vicki Lewis Thompson, New York Times Bestselling Author
“…two thumbs up and a standing ovation for laughs, sighs, thrills, and an excellently crafted mystery.”
~Maxwell Cynn, Thrillers Rock Twitter Reviews and Author of The Collective
Overview…
When Claire’s grandfather and his army buddies converge in the Arizona de
sert to find new wives, it’s her thankless job to keep them out of trouble with the opposite sex.
But when she finds a human leg bone and partners with a reluctant geotechnician to dig up secrets from the past, trouble finds her. If she doesn’t stop digging, she could end up dead.
About Ann
Ann Charles is an award-winning author who writes romantic mysteries that are splashed with humor and whatever else she feels like throwing into the mix. When she is not dabbling in fiction, arm-wrestling with her children, attempting to seduce her husband, or arguing with her sassy cat, she is daydreaming of lounging poolside at a fancy resort with a blended margarita in one hand and a great book in the other.
Contact Information
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ann.charles.author
Twitter: @DeadwoodViolet and @AnnWCharles
My Main Website: http://www.anncharles.com
My Deadwood Website: http://www.anncharles.com/deadwood
Table of Contents
Book 2 - The Old Man’s Back in Town Ann Charles