All he could see were her eyes, as dark as coal under-neath thick lashes that stared at him from behind her bandana. Her voice was deep and sultry, drawing him in the same way a black widow draws in her prey. Oh yes, this woman was deadly. No doubt about it, he would have to be careful if he wanted to live to see another day. Tipping his hat, he stepped forward cautiously. “Why yes, ma’am, my name is Harper Barnes.” He smiled when she took a step backward. “Pray tell! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit on this fine day?”
Chantel scrutinized him. He was tall, lean and terribly handsome. Dressed in a pair of those new denim breeches from the East Coast she’d heard about and only seen in cata-logs from Mrs. Buckley’s shop. His gray eyes penetrated her, right down to her soul, making her feel as if he could read her mind. Pulling herself together and stepping back one more step, she answered his question. “Not that it makes any differ-ence to the likes of you, but you’ve taken what doesn’t belong
to you, Mr. Barnes. I’m just here to take it back to its rightful owners.”
Harper nearly slumped forward from the lash of her tongue. God, he longed to rip that bandanna from her face. “Oh, I see now. You must belong to the Sumpter gang. I didn’t know they had a woman riding with them.” He could tell she was frowning underneath her bandana. “What’s the going rate nowadays for a woman bandit? Five or ten dollars? Why, I bet the men get at least double that.”
“Shut-up!” Chantel yelled."
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Have a fun day,
Diane Story
