High Plains Bride
"Turn around, you son of a bitch."
Thomas West heard the emphasizing click of the pistol cocking. The woman's voice was not familiar. He lowered the razor pressed to his throat and lifted the towel, wiping off the remaining suds with measured strokes as he hoped that she would not plant a bullet in his kidney.
He turned to the woman, trying to place her. Full green skirts and a deerskin jacket revealed little about her age or shape. The wide-brimmed hat cast her face in deep shadow, showing only the stubborn set of her chin and the thin, grim line of her pressed lips.
She looked prepared to kill him. In his mind he'd given no woman cause. Though one had given cause. "Sarah?"
The corner of her mouth quirked, and she lifted her chin to reveal familiar gray eyes. His breath caught. Time had stolen the round face, replacing soft features with high cheekbones and a pointed chin. Faint lines engraved the fine skin at her eyes—her beauty no longer pliant, but etched in granite.
"Mrs. West now," she said, rubbing his nose in it.
He gritted his teeth, refusing to acknowledge her marriage. Fourteen years, and the pain was as fresh as the ... read full excerpt from High Plains Bride ebook
