Marielle's Marshal
Chapter One
"If you don't know how to use that thing, you'd better put it down, sugar."
The pistol shook in Marielle's hands. The unfamiliar weight threatened to drag
her arms down, but her determination kept it upright and pointed at the man in
front of her.
"I will not let you rob this stagecoach. Turn that pony around and ride on out
before I put a hole in you that you didn't have yesterday." She was proud of the
fact that her voice didn't break. God knows her heart beat fast enough to make
her ears hurt.
The masked man on the huge sorrel leaned on his saddle horn and turned his head
toward her. She couldn't make out much information about him, other than the
fact that he was big and his clothes hadn't been washed in a dog's year.
Fortunately the wind blew toward him or the stench might have forced her to
surrender.
"You're a sassy little thing," he drawled. "You know there's no way in hell I
ain't robbing this stage so just drop that peashooter and play nice."
The cowboy she'd initiated a flirtation with in the coach stood next to her. It
had been enough to ma ... read full excerpt from: Marielle's Marshal ebook
