Part One
Marshal Dylan J. Kane was not a happy man. Days of tracking an outlaw had ended in rain-washed tracks, the trail gone cold, the crime unsolved. To make matters worse, a snap of thunder, ricocheting like a shot through the mountains, had startled his horse. Dylan had kissed the earth with a thud, rising up and brushing himself down just in time to catch sight of Daisy’s retreating figure. And so last, but certainly not least, the marshal had tramped five miles through Wyoming’s coarse sage, rain at times pelting him like a sinner out of Jerusalem, to find the mare grazing by the banks of the Snake River.
“Just like a woman,” he mumbled as he hunkered down with his canteen to scoop fresh water. “First sign of trouble they up and leave.”
Daisy tossed her head as if denying the fact, then pulled off leaves from a nearby cottonwood. The day had now cleared, and Dylan leaned back against a sun-baked rock. His face finding warmth, he enjoyed the peace of the moment, before a hum of melody that wasn’t birdsong interrupted the silence. Carried on the breeze was the murmur of singing, the light voice drifting in with a watery accompaniment. Leaves fluttered like background percussion.
“What the heck…?” Shuffling through the undergrowth, he came to a point where the river slowed, the bend forming slack water into a small inlet. From open saddle bags, several items were strewn nearby along with a few clothes, neatly folded—smalls of the female variety, but then a shirt, denims, and a gun belt. Was there a man here as well?
Dylan pushed some branches aside and watched as one long leg stretched up from the water. A hand, dainty and small, deftly worked soap down the length of the leg before it was replaced by the other. Both legs ended in the neatest little feet Dylan had ever seen.
But what he wasn’t seeing, the heaven between those two shapely legs, made what was between his own two legs a mite uncomfortable. He shifted a step to catch sight of the rest of the body—glistening wet hair met flawless white shoulders, and just above the water line two curves of—
“Hell and damnation,” Dylan whispered. “Double hell and damnation.”
Nothing could be done about his stirrings. Her face belonged to an angel, and if wings weren’t attached to those white shoulders, she sure as hell had the body of one. He watched for a moment as the song and the washing continued before pulling back from the shrubs and checking his surroundings. A single horse, grazing a distance off.
His day had just gotten a whole lot better.
Better still. The girl now floated on her back for a few seconds before ducking under the water. Lawman or not, he couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to have that beautiful wet skin against his.
“Hell and damnation, Dylan. Behave yourself.” A man can’t stop the thoughts that go through his mind . “No siree, better behave.” He stepped forward.
“I think you should know—” The gasp as she turned and sank below the water up to her neck made him realize his mistake.
“Why you…How long have you been watching, you…you…you Peeping Tom, you. Why you…how dare you?”
“Now, hang on, miss. I only wanted to warn you ’bout the snakes in that there river.”
“Get. Out. Of. Here! Now!”
Hmmm. A little hellcat . Dylan settled comfortably, one foot up on a thick tree root, and crossed his arms. “You ain’t bein’ right friendly now. After all, ain’t a whole lot you can do. An’ I’m just warnin’ you ’bout snakes. Way I see it, if I take a fancy to sittin’ here all day, you’re either stuck in that there river or forced to come on out here with me. Want to talk this over peaceable-like?” He gave her what he thought was his winning smile, but the huge eyes only flashed at him before ducking back into the water. Then they bobbed back up.
“If you don’t leave, you’ll have my death on your hands, I swear. Let me see you ride off, and
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