Mountain Wild. Stacey Kayne

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СКАЧАТЬ in town before.”

      “Mad Mag?” Strafford’s gaze narrowed. He stepped off the boardwalk into the dusty road. “You there? Come back here.”

      The woman increased her strides and urged the mare to move faster.

      “Uh…Boss?” his man called after him. “I wouldn’t—”

      “Hey!” Strafford shouted. “I’m talking to you!”

      “He’s barkin’ up the wrong tree with that one,” Duce murmured.

      Mad Mag turned into the alley beside the mercantile. Strafford hurried after her.

      “Someone might ought to fetch the sheriff,” suggested one of the men.

      “Who wants to bet Mayor Strafford just got a new mare?”

      The large group erupted with laughter.

      Anger snapped at Garret’s nerves. He’d disliked the overdressed rancher the moment he’d met the man. Nathan Strafford had moved into these hills with the greasy finesse of a snake-oil salesman, forcing out the smaller ranchers while pouring his money into this town. He’d funded a new school and the first courthouse in Bitterroot Springs, which had gotten him elected as the new town mayor.

      Garret started across the road, damned if he’d stand by while that arrogant jackass took advantage of some poor deranged woman.

      “Garret?”

      Leaving Duce to chase after him, he rounded the building. Mag was near the far end of the alley, Strafford closing in on her.

      “We got new laws in this town,” Strafford announced, his long arm reaching for her. He grabbed a fistful of fur.

      Mag spun to face him, the rifle in her hands forcing him to take a backward step. “Back off,” she growled.

      Strafford’s six-plus frame towered over the small woman. “What business do you have in my town?” he demanded. “Aside from reeking up the streets and stealing our horses?”

      The woman’s cold, throaty laughter echoed through the hallow shadows of the narrow alley. “Oh, that’s rich. You calling me a thief.”

      Strafford leaned closer to her. “Mag—?”

      The butt of her rifle connected with Strafford’s gut, ending his words in a hard cough. He doubled over. She swung again, her rifle cracking against his skull, sending him staggering back. Another swift blow to the brow, and Strafford hit the ground like a fallen timber.

      Damn. Her reputation wasn’t just rumors. She stood over Strafford, the barrel of her rifle pressed to his chest. She trembled. Jagged puffs of breath lifted the tangled black hair covering most of her face. Her finger flexed over the trigger.

      If she shot Strafford, provoked or not, she’d hang before sundown.

      “He’s not worth it,” Garret whispered, slowly moving in beside her while keeping an eye on that rifle.

      Rage shaking her, Maggie couldn’t think of a single reason why she shouldn’t put a hole through Nathan’s black heart. He had no right to touch her—no right to be in this part of Wyoming!

      His town? Her gaze raked over his fancy suit. Bile burned in her throat. Did this town know the vile measures he used to acquire his wealth? It was past time for Nathan to be stomped back down to the devil.

      She startled at a light pressure on her shoulder. Her gaze snapped to the long fingers touching her fur coat. She glanced up at wide shoulders creating a clear line on the pink horizon.

      “Careful,” he said. “Sheriff’s coming.”

      Pale blond hair glowed white against the sunset, instantly identifying the man beside her.

      Garret Daines. Recognition broke across her senses like a crack of lightning, shattering her tattered nerves. She’d spotted Daines and his cow dog often enough in the hills around her mountain, but never so close. He appeared rather like the Vikings she’d learned about during her studies as a young girl, his pale hair wavering in the cool breeze, the span of his chest blocking out the world. A colorful sky outlined his profile, defining the sharp lines and intriguing contours of his face.

      “Ma’am, you’d better git.” The hand on her shoulder urged her aside, jarring her from a mental stupor. Not that he noticed. His hard gaze never strayed from the murmur of voices growing louder by the second. He glanced to his right and his friend moved in beside him, completely blocking her from view of the approaching mob.

      “What’s going on?” a man shouted.

      “What happened to Mayor Strafford?” called another.

      “Not much that I could see,” said Daines. “Ol’ Strafford didn’t mind his footing. Tripped over his own boots and bumped his head.”

      Maggie stared up at Daines’s broad shoulders, staggered by his outright lie, his offer of protection. Seizing the opportunity, she grabbed Star by the reins and stepped around the corner of the building. She wouldn’t be back to this town.

      Garret glanced over his shoulder as the crowd descended on Strafford, and was relieved to find the woman had fled. He looked at Duce and nodded in the direction she’d gone. They prudently made a swift exit. Garret scanned the surrounding hills and tall grasses spotted by patches of trees and scrub. Mad Mag was nowhere in sight.

      “You got some kind of death wish I should know about?” asked Duce.

      “Why would you think—?”

      “You’re lucky that woman didn’t fill you full of buckshot. Or didn’t you see the way she laid out Strafford?”

      “She had a rifle, not a shotgun. And he likely frightened her, grabbing her the way he did.”

      “Frightened her? That’s it,” Duce said, shoving him across the road. “We’re headed to the whorehouse before you end up dead or courting a mountain shrew.”

      Garret laughed, and didn’t argue. Watching that woman knock Strafford down a few notches had lightened his mood.

       Finally a bit of justice in this world.

       Chapter Two

      A soft swirl of snowflakes cold against her face, Maggie tugged her hood low and tightened her hold on the rope of her sled as she increased her stride through the soft powder. Her body ached to hunker down in her warm bed.

       Two more miles.

      The crunch of her snowshoes pressing through the soft ground echoed across the silent countryside. Dark clouds loomed to the north, telling her this was only a small reprieve in the blizzard. The late-winter storm had come on strong and without much warning the prior evening. Maggie barely had time to skin and dress the big buck she’d shot before having to bury her kill in the snow and seek shelter. Huddling in a dank alcove near the river had been no way to pass a frigid February night.

      Despite СКАЧАТЬ