Beautiful Bandit (Lone Star Legends) by Loree Lough Page B

Gatling gun demonstration a while back, and if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed any weapon could fire a thousand rounds in a minute. Well, Shorty McAllister talked even faster than that. He stood barely taller than Dinah, but his stance—chest puffed out and chin raised high—made it clear he wanted an answer, whether Josh minded giving it or not. Since he’d never liked playing cat and mouse, he said, “Anthrax epidemic killed off a thousand head of cattle, and now the land where they’d been grazing is tainted. Had to sell some acres to make up the loss, and the only interested buyer wouldn’t pay up unless I met him on his own turf. So.…” Josh let a nonchalant shrug finish his sentence, hoping he hadn’t offered too much information, because, in his experience, that’s what made a man look guilty.
    Gus muttered a curse. “You don’t mean to say you’ve got cash on your perso—”
    “No, no,” Josh assured. “Banknote.”
    Stretch, red-faced from struggling to get out of his wet boots, grunted. “Good thing, too, ’cause we’ve been tailin’ Frank Michaels and his gang of murderin’ thieves. Last we heard, they were hidin’ out somewhere close by.”
    Josh heard Dinah’s tiny gasp, but before he could figure out what had provoked it, Shorty said, “We been doggin’ ’em for nigh onto a week, now. Almost had ’em, too, when this confounded storm muddied up their tracks.” A quick look at Dinah stopped him as effectively as a hand clamped over his mouth. Narrowing one eye, he said, “Hey, don’t I know you from someplace?”
    A nervous giggle exploded from her mouth. “It’s the funniest thing,” she said, “but people tell me that all the time.” Looking at Josh, she added, “Don’t they, darlin’?”
    Josh hoped his forced smile didn’t look too fake. “Guess you just have one of those faces, darlin’.”
    The Ranger stared hard at her for another second or two and then shook his head. “Nah, ain’t that. I’d bet my next paycheck that I know you from someplace.” He gave a shrug. “Don’t worry none. It’ll come to me before long.”
    He stepped closer to his comrades, who were lighting cigarettes and talking. On the heels of their raucous laughter, the threesome picked up where they’d left off, griping about how the Frank Michaels Gang had left half a dozen bank heists, train robberies, and dead bodies in their wake between here and San Antonio.
    “We’ll get ’em,” Stretch snarled, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. “They got a female with ’em now. Don’t matter none that she’s an outlaw; she’ll slow ’em down, sure as I’m standin’ here, simply ’cause she’s a woman.”
    Josh glanced at Dinah, whose rosy cheeks had paled to a chalky gray. He reached her just in time to catch her as she fainted.

    8
    When Kate opened her eyes and looked into Josh’s worried face, her first impulse was to comfort him. He’d been so kind, so sweet, so gentle. And so generous….
    Then, reality set in, and she remembered where they were, and why. But she couldn’t figure out what was causing the loud hammering in her ears—the ferocity of the storm or her hard-beating heart.
    Blinding flashes of lightning sparked through cracks in the cabin walls, each one waking a white-hot memory: Frank’s threat to slit her throat if she ran off; the ghastly image of Claribel and the men he’d shot; her own name emblazoned on the wanted poster. She also formed a clear, mental picture of herself swinging at the end of a rope.
    The men’s voices sounded hollow and distant, reminding her of hot, summer days from childhood, when she and her playmates would take turns diving into the millpond behind her grandmother’s house, their smiling faces easily identifiable through the water’s translucence, their shouts nearly as muted and murky as the pond’s spongy floor.
    Kate sipped from the canteen Josh pressed to her lips, wondering how long