The Gunslinger's Untamed Bride. Stacey Kayne

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      This wasn’t happening!

      “Move, you lazy animals!”

      Lily yanked at the handcuffs and twisted in the nest of blankets.

       Think, Lily.

      She knew all the thought in the world wouldn’t release the bindings holding her captive beneath the blanket.

      A few moments later the wagon slowed to a stop and she heard muffled voices.

       Reginald!

      “It’ll have to go on the back,” said Chuck. “I’m plumb full up here.”

      Something thumped into the wagon. The strongbox. Regi must be sending the payroll down to The Grove.

      “Where can I find the sheriff’s office?” Regi asked.

      She squirmed and tried to scream, drowning out Chuck’s reply. Her muffled screams were lost in the groan and creaks of the wagon as Chuck cracked his whip.

      She rocked against the buckboard.

       Regi!

       Chapter Three

      Juniper collapsed into the chair behind his desk, his gaze landing on the revolver he’d taken from Lily. He scrubbed a hand over his face. The rage he’d seen in her emerald gaze ignited a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Her pretty green eyes had blazed with hell’s fury before he’d tossed the blanket over her. He had a notion that when not encumbered by a head injury, Lily Palmer was a force to be reckoned with.

      Not unlike her father.

      He remembered the ol’ man-hunter quite well. Though rumored to be ruthless in his occupation of bringing in some of the most infamous criminals in the territory, Red Palmer had actually seemed a decent sort of fellow. Juniper had spoken with him several times over at the general store and in the saloon. On many of those occasions he’d mentioned the wife and daughter he had stashed up in the mountains.

      Juniper had never been forced to shoot someone he’d been cordial with—until the night Red went after him like a loco steer. He’d never faced a more terrifying adversary. He sure as hell hadn’t expected to live beyond that night. Part of him still wished he hadn’t.

      Would he ever outlive his reputation as a gunfighter?

      Not likely. The last four years of being a lawman had afforded him some peace, putting his infamous reputation to good use, or at least giving folks pause about approaching him. He’d been trying to build an honest life for himself—but none of it mattered. Watching the mention of his name turn the sweetness in Lily’s smile to undiluted fear brought him back to what he’d always be.

       A no-good gunslinger.

      He was so damn tired of fighting the past. Juniper closed his eyes, silently praying that Lily Palmer would take his advice.

      “Good afternoon.”

      Juniper opened his eyes as a little man in a bowler hat and ruffled suit stepped into his office.

      “Reginald Carrington,” he said, rushing toward the desk, extending his hand.

      “Sheriff Barns,” Juniper said as he stood and shook the man’s slender hand. His last name, dainty grip and frilly white shirt explained a lot. “I take it you’re the new owner.”

      “Of sorts. We arrived a short while ago and I seem to have lost my charge.”

      “Your charge?”

      “My partner, actually. Lily Carrington.”

       “Lily Carrington?”

      “Yes. She insisted on being present for the inspection and must have taken a notion to have a look around on her own. Quite like Lily, you see. She’s very involved in all of her projects. The boy from the mill suggested I’d find her here.” The man’s brows pinched inward as he glanced around the office.

      “She’s not here,” Juniper said, the sick feeling in his stomach turning to a ball of flames. He wondered if this dandy was her husband. “She’s on the ox wagon headed down the mountain.”

      “The wagon that just left a short while ago?”

      “Yeah.”

      “You must be mistaken. We stopped the driver. Lily wasn’t with him.”

      “She was, you just didn’t see her because, uh … she was on the buckboard. Under a blanket.”

      Reginald’s dark eyes grew wide. “I beg your pardon?”

      “Women aren’t allowed up here. She was unconscious when—”

      “Good Lord!” Reginald said in alarm. “You knocked her out?”

      “Of course not. That was how I found her. She had stepped into the path of a lumber hoist.”

      “Is she all right?”

      “She seemed all right.” Other than wanting him dead. “When she woke up she didn’t say anything about being a Carrington. She just said her name was Lily. I sent her down the mountain the best way I could without causing a ruckus with the men.”

      “If she allowed you to send her off without a fight, she was far from all right! Lily is hardly some docile flower.”

      “I noticed.” Juniper rubbed at the tense muscles in the back of his neck. “Believe me, she was fighting mad. Did I mention she was handcuffed under that blanket? And gagged?”

      Reginald blinked several times, his expression seeming frozen in place. “You accosted the owner of this camp and sent her—”

      “The who?”

      “Your boss, Sheriff Barns. Lily is L. P. Carrington. Lily …Palmer … Carrington.”

      His slow, clear pronunciation didn’t make the announcement any less of a shock. “Oh, hell.”

      “Indeed.” Laughter tickled from Reginald’s throat. “You poor man. Don’t think for a moment I’ll be able to save this situation. Lily controls everything, and her wrath could make the devil tremble.”

      Somehow Juniper didn’t doubt it. Cursing, he reached for his hat. “Can you ride?”

      The dandy snapped straight as though pricked by a pin. “Of course I can ride. I wouldn’t have kept up with Lily all these years if not.”

      “If that means you can keep the devil’s pace and stay in a saddle, you can come with me.”

      Outside he motioned toward the brown-and-white mare tethered beside Scout, his chestnut stallion. “You can take Günter’s mount. You’ll likely have to raise the stirrups.”

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