The Gunslinger's Untamed Bride. Stacey Kayne

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      Reginald glanced up from a stirrup. “Heavens, no. Lily’s my second cousin.”

      “Then how is she a Carrington?”

      “By birthright, Sheriff Barns. Her mother was Rose Carrington, youngest of four siblings to inherit the Carrington fortunes, a quarter of which went to Lily after Aunt Rose’s death.” He mounted the mare with reassuring ease. “A moment with Lily should convince anyone that she’s a Carrington through and through.”

      “I don’t think so,” Juniper muttered as he spurred his horse. Reginald had clearly never met Lily’s daddy.

      They beat a fast trail out of camp. As they rode down the wide road cut into the mountainside, gunfire echoed across the sky.

       What the hell?

      Juniper met Reginald’s startled gaze. Both men reined in their horses, listening to an echo that sounded no farther than the next bend in the winding road.

      “Hey, Reginald? Why did you stop the wagon?”

      “To send our strongbox down to The Grove.”

      Juniper’s heart clenched. “You put the payroll on an unarmed wagon?”

      “Surely not! We sent our guard along.”

      A single armed man? Juniper urged his horse onward, praying the gunfire they’d heard had been warning shots, and that Lily was safely hidden beneath the blankets.

      When the load of logs came into view the team of oxen were at a standstill. Chuck was nowhere in sight.

      “Chuck!”

      “Over here!”

      The old teamster stood on a thin strip of tall grass at the side of the road. As Juniper rode close, he noticed a man lying on the ground beside him.

      “Poor feller’s dead,” said Chuck. “Was a goddamn coward what shot ‘im.”

      “This man didn’t have his gun drawn?” Juniper asked, spotting a rifle and revolver lying in the grass not far off from the stranger’s boots.

      Chuck turned his head and spat a stream of chaw. “We knew there was too many of ‘em. Dobbs tossed his guns down right off. They got what they was after, weren’t no call to shoot ‘im.”

      “Where’s Lily?” Reginald shouted, reining in beside the wagon.

      “Reckon she’s still on the buckboard.”

      “She’s not here!” He turned his horse in a full circle, his eyes wide with terror as he glanced up and down the mountainside.

      Juniper looked back at Chuck. “You didn’t see them take her?”

      “They had me facedown in the grass. I didn’t hear no mention of them finding her, so I figured she was still under the blanket.”

      Juniper’s horse leaped back onto the road. Pulling his rifle from a scabbard at the side of his saddle, he fired off three shots, the blasts echoing across the mountain as he set off in the direction of the bandits.

      “What was that for?” Reginald shouted, riding up beside him.

      “To let them know I’m coming for ‘em. Wait here.”

      “She’s my cousin! I’m going after her.”

      He didn’t waste time arguing. They raced down the wide dirt road. A mile farther, Juniper rounded another bend and spotted a figure off in the brush.

       Lily.

      Her wrists were cuffed in front of the bulging mass of her torn skirt. She inched forward, struggling to walk despite her bound ankles.

      He pulled up on the reins as relief plowed through him.

      They must have dumped her into the thick brush. Dirt and stickers coated her dress. Dried grass clung to her tangled hair. Narrowed green eyes burned into him.

      “Lily!” shouted Reginald. He reined in beside her and jumped from his saddle. “Oh, thank God.”

      Measuring the rage in Lily’s eyes, Juniper wasn’t quite ready to thank the heavens. She shouted through the roll of fabric in her mouth, and Reginald took a cautious step back.

      Juniper dismounted beside him. He held up the key to the cuffs. “You want to—”

      “Hell no, man.” Reginald took another step back. “You’re the one who tied her up. You can let her loose.”

      Opting for the least lethal position, Juniper stepped behind her to remove the gag. “I’m sorry about this, Miss Carrington,” he said as he loosened the knot on his handkerchief. “Things would have gone differently if you’d told me who you were from the start.”

      The moment he pulled the bandanna away, she spun toward him in a whirling flutter of fancy green fabric.

      “You’re fired! Do you hear me? Fired!”

      “Uh … sweetness? I wouldn’t do that just yet.”

      Juniper bypassed her hands and crouched down to undo the binding around her booted ankles.

      “He’s fired now! We need to find a real sheriff!”

      “Lady,” Juniper said as he straightened, stuffing the second bandanna into his pocket. “I’m as real as it gets up here. If I didn’t govern your camp, you wouldn’t have a logging company left to speak of because your employees would have shredded it to toothpicks after the second pay hold.”

      “Uncuff me!” she shouted, holding up her hands.

      “I don’t know,” Juniper said, not trusting the lethal glint in her eyes. “I do that and you’re liable to back-shoot me.”

      “Front, back, sideways. I’m not choosy at the moment!”

      “Lily.” Reginald clamped a hand onto her arm, clearly fearing she was about to attack him.

      “This whole situation could have been avoided,” said Juniper, his own temper hanging on by a thread. “What were you thinking to bring a cash box up to this camp with only a single armed guard? Why wasn’t I notified? And why the hell didn’t you tell me you were L. P. Carrington?”

      “You shoved your handkerchief into my mouth before I had the chance, binding me up so that I couldn’t even protect myself!”

      “I saved your life. If you had identified yourself to those men, I doubt they’d have let you off this mountain. You’re lucky they dropped you on your ass before they figured out who you were, or you’d likely have ended up like your gunman.”

      Her eyes flared. “Mr. Dobbs? What about him?”

      “He’s dead.”

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