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  ROMANTIC TIMES PRAISES NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR BOBBI SMITH!

  DEFIANT

  “The talented Smith is in her element out West. This novel is fast-paced and filled with adventure and tender feelings . . . a very beautiful story.”

  HALFBREED WARRIOR

  “Smith is the consummate storyteller. The pacing is quick, with snappy dialogue moving the story forward at breakneck speed.”

  BRAZEN

  “As sexy and gritty as [Smith] has ever written.”

  HALF-MOON RANCH: HUNTER’S MOON

  “Bobbi Smith is a terrific storyteller whose wonderful characters, good dialogue and compelling plot will keep you up all night.”

  FOREVER AUTUMN

  “Forever Autumn is a fast-paced, delightful story.”

  LONE WARRIOR

  “Fast-paced, swift moving and filled with strong, well-crafted characters.”

  EDEN

  “The very talented Bobbi Smith has written another winner. Eden is filled with adventure, danger, sentimentality and romance.”

  THE HALF-BREED (SECRET FIRES)

  “Witty, tender, strong characters and plenty of action, as well as superb storytelling, make this a keeper.”

  MORE ROMANTIC TIMES RAVES FOR STORYTELLER OF THE YEAR BOBBI SMITH!

  BRIDES OF DURANGO: JENNY

  “Bobbi Smith has another winner. This third installment is warm and tender as only Ms. Smith can do. . . . Ms. Smith’s fans will not be disappointed.”

  BRIDES OF DURANGO: TESSA

  “Another wonderful read by consummate storyteller Bobbi Smith. . . . Filled with adventure and romance, more than one couple winds up happily-ever-after in this gem.”

  BRIDES OF DURANGO: ELISE

  “There’s plenty of action, danger and heated romance as the pages fly by. This is exactly what fans expect from Bobbi Smith.”

  WESTON’S LADY

  “Bobbi Smith has penned another winner.”

  HALF-BREED’S LADY

  “A fast-paced, frying-pan-into-the-fire adventure that runs the gamut of emotions, from laughter to tears.”

  OUTLAW’S LADY

  “Bobbi Smith is an author of many talents; one of them being able to weave more than one story. . . . Ms. Smith creates characters that one will remember for some time.”

  THE LADY & THE TEXAN

  “An action-packed read with roller-coaster adventures that keep you turning the pages.”

  RENEGADE’S LADY

  “A wonderfully delicious ‘Perils of Pauline’ style romance. With dashes of humor, passion, adventure and romance, Ms. Smith creates another winner that only she could write!”

  “I CAN BE READY TO LEAVE WITHIN THE HOUR.”

  Trent was surprised by her announcement. “You don’t understand—”

  “What don’t I understand?” She looked up at him in irritation.

  As he met Faith’s challenging green-eyed glare, Trent realized again what a good-looking woman she was, and he grew even more annoyed. The last thing he needed was her kind of distraction while he was trying to work.

  “I work alone,” Trent stated firmly.

  “What are you talking about?” Faith’s regard turned into a cold-eyed glare across the desk. In the years since she’d taken over running the ranch, she’d dealt with all kinds of men. She hadn’t backed down from any of them, no matter how arrogant or demanding they were, and she wasn’t about to start now—not when her sister’s life was hanging in the balance.

  “You’ve hired me to do a job, and I’m going to do it—my way. I work alone. It’s better like that.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” she countered in a tone that brooked no argument. “Like you just said—I hired you to do a job, and that means I’m your boss.” She paused for effect. “You work for me. When you head out, you won’t be going alone. I’ll be riding with you.”

  Other books by Bobbi Smith:

  DEFIANT

  HALFBREED WARRIOR

  BRAZEN

  BAYOU BRIDE

  HUNTER’S MOON

  FOREVER AUTUMN

  LONE WARRIOR

  EDEN

  WANTON SPLENDOR

  SWEET SILKEN BONDAGE

  THE HALF-BREED (SECRET FIRES)

  WESTON’S LADY

  HALF-BREED’S LADY

  OUTLAW’S LADY

  FORBIDDEN FIRES

  RAPTURE’S RAGE

  THE LADY & THE TEXAN

  RENEGADE’S LADY

  THE LADY’S HAND

  LADY DECEPTION

  The Brides of Durango series:

  ELISE

  TESSA

  JENNY

  Writing as Julie Marshall:

  MIRACLES

  HAVEN

  HIRED

  GUN

  BOBBI SMITH

  Dorchester

  Publishing

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  DORCHESTER PUBLISHING

  Published by

  Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.

  200 Madison Avenue

  New York, NY 10016

  Copyright © 2006 by Bobbi Smith

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Trade ISBN: 978-1-4285-1760-8

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-4285-0267-3

  First Dorchester Publishing, Co., Inc. edition: November 2006

  The “DP” logo is the property of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Visit us online at www.dorchesterpub.com.

  This book is dedicated to the memory

  of my cousin, Harry Lee, and to Bob Tackett.

  They were true heroes and will be missed by all.

  “Hi” to the whole gang at the Northeast Texas

  Writer’s Organization. You’re wonderful!

  “Hi” especially to the real Cathie Fleenor,

  Bill Fike and Alnette Scribner.

  PROLOGUE

  Dry Gulch, Texas

  Late 1860s

  It was early afternoon. Brett Marshall, the sheriff of Dry Gulch, was sitting at the desk in his office when Gary Jones, one of the men from town, came hurrying i
n.

  “Sheriff! We got trouble down at the Stampede Saloon!”

  “What kind of trouble, Gary?”

  “There’s a mean drunk looking for a fight.”

  “Who is it this time?” He’d grown accustomed to the rowdiness at the end of the month when it was payday.

  “Some stranger. I ain’t seen him before, but he’s a rough one.”

  Brett got up to follow Gary from the office. Dealing with mean drunks was usually ugly work, so he drew his gun as they made their way down the street to the Stampede.

  As they neared the saloon, a thrown chair came crashing through the swinging doors, and they could hear the ruckus going on inside.

  “What are ya? A bunch of cowards?” the unknown troublemaker was shouting. “C’mon! I’ll take you all on at once!”

  “Wait out here,” Brett ordered Gary.

  Gary didn’t need to be told twice. He took off, glad to distance himself from what was to come.

  Brett made his way to the swinging doors and looked in. The place was in chaos, so he didn’t waste any time. He stepped inside the saloon and fired his gun at the ceiling.

  At the sound of the gunshot, a sudden, tense silence fell over the place.

  “What’s going on in here?” Brett demanded. He glared at the drunken troublemakers, his expression deadly serious.

  “He’s the one who started it, Sheriff! That man over there!” The barkeep pointed him out.

  Brett looked over at the man and thought he recognized him as Will Anderson, a deadly gunfighter he’d seen on a recent wanted poster.

  “Hold it right there!” he ordered.

  Anderson ignored him and made a run for the back door.

  Brett didn’t want to take a shot at the man there in the crowded saloon, so he went after him, following him out into the alley, where he could see the man running away as fast as he could. He gave chase, but he didn’t get far.

  A shot rang out from behind him, hitting him in the back.

  Brett fell and lay unmoving in the dirt.

  Some of the men in the saloon looked out to see what had happened. They’d thought it was the sheriff doing the shooting and expected to see him hauling the drunk back in. They were shocked at the sight of their lawman lying dead in the alley. They were even more shocked when an armed man they hadn’t seen before stepped out from his hiding place to confront them.

  “Get out of here now!” the killer ordered.

  The drunks fled back inside, terrified by the sheriff’s cold-blooded murder.

  The gunman hurried off to meet up with his partner.

  Will Anderson had gone to get their horses and was waiting for him at the edge of town.

  “Taking out that sheriff was easier than I thought it would be,” the black-hearted Anderson said with a smile as he handed his partner in crime, Charlie Hunt, the reins to his horse.

  “It always is when you back-shoot ’em. You suckered him into it real good,” Charlie complimented as he mounted up.

  “I knew he’d fall for it, after hearing all the talk about how hard he was working to clean up the town.”

  “He ain’t going to be cleaning anything up anymore,” Charlie said as they hightailed it out of Dry Gulch.

  “Thanks to your straight shooting.”

  They were wanted men, and they knew the crime they’d just committed would make them even more notorious. They liked the idea of having a deadly reputation. They figured from now on they would have free rein in Dry Gulch whenever they showed up, and that was the way they wanted it. The townsfolk there were a real cowardly bunch. The outlaws knew none of the townspeople would try to track them down.

  Life was good—real good.

  The Diamondback Ranch

  Fifteen-year-old Trent Marshall picked himself up off the dirt and knocked the dust from his clothes. He grabbed up his hat, jammed it back on his head, then stalked across the corral to where Old Jim was holding the new bronc’s reins. Trent was determined to break the stallion, but so far in the contest of wills, the stallion was winning.

  Old Jim watched the youth walk his way. Tall and lean, Trent was growing into a fine young man. Having worked on the Marshall ranch for years, Old Jim knew how tough Trent was. Once the boy set his mind on doing something, he did it—no matter how long it took. But this bronc was a stubborn one, and Old Jim was beginning to believe it was going to be a long afternoon.

  “You ready to try it again?” he asked, trying hard not to smile at the boy’s frustration.

  “Oh, yeah. I’m ready.” Trent was feeling a little battered as he came to stand with Old Jim and the stallion. He could tell the ranch hand was enjoying himself. “You think this is funny, don’t you?”

  “No, I just think you and Big Boy, here, might be two of a kind.” Old Jim looked up at the spirited stallion with admiration.

  “I think you’re right.” Trent smiled at his friend. He had learned a lot from him through the years. Old Jim was a half-breed, and he had taught Trent how to track and shoot with the best of them. Now, if only his lessons on breaking horses held up . . .

  Trent was just getting ready to mount up again when he happened to notice a rider in the distance.

  “Someone’s coming,” Trent said.

  It was unusual for them to have unexpected visitors, so Old Jim let Big Boy go and went with Trent to see who the man was. As the rider drew closer, they were able to make out that it was Reverend Johnson, the minister of the church in town, and they were both puzzled.

  “I wonder if there’s been some kind of trouble,” Trent said, concern in his voice.

  His older brother, Brett, had taken a job as the sheriff in town, because money was so tight on the Diamondback that they’d feared they might lose the ranch. The small spread was all they had after their parents had died several years before; it was up to the two of them to keep it going. Life had been rough, but Trent and Brett always believed things would get better.

  “Afternoon, Reverend,” Trent called out when the minister reined in near where they were standing. “What brings you out to the Diamondback?”

  Reverend Johnson didn’t smile. He couldn’t, knowing what he had to do. He dismounted and went to Trent. “I need to speak with you.”

  Trent heard the edge in the man’s tone and knew something was wrong—very wrong. “What’s happened?”

  “We’d better go up to the house. . . .” The minister wanted to tell Trent the bad news in a more private place.

  Trent went still. “You can tell me whatever it is you’ve got to say right here.”

  Reverend Johnson was troubled, but didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. “All right, Trent. The news I bring isn’t good. It’s about your brother. . . .”

  “What about him?”

  “I’m sorry, Trent—Brett was killed today. He was ambushed in town.”

  “What . . . ?” That was all he could manage to say as he stared at the preacher in disbelief.

  “From what I’ve been able to find out, Will Anderson called him out, and then Charlie Hunt shot him in the back.”

  “They set him up,” Trent agonized, realizing immediately what had happened, and it sickened him. Brett had told him about the wild gunfighters who were always causing trouble. He had even mentioned Anderson and Hunt by name. Brett had suspected they were the deadliest of the troublemakers, and now Trent knew he’d been right.

  “It looks that way,” the reverend admitted.

  “Have Anderson and Hunt been arrested?”

  Reverend Johnson was mortified as he told him, “No. When Deputy Lawton found out your brother was dead, he quit.”

  The deputy’s cowardice inflamed Trent. “What about the gunmen? Where are they?”

  “They left town.”

  Trent was silent for a moment, his emotions in turmoil. He looked over at Old Jim, a fire burning in his soul. “Will you ride with me?”

  The ranch hand nodded. “I’ll get the horses.”

&nbs
p; He hurried off, leaving Trent alone with the preacher.

  “What are you planning to do?” Reverend Johnson asked worriedly. He knew this tragedy was a heavy burden for someone as young as Trent.

  Trent looked at the man of God. “I’m planning to put my brother to rest—and then I’m going to track down the men who killed him.”

  Two Weeks Later

  Leaving their horses tied up some distance away, Trent and Old Jim made their way on foot across the night-shrouded, rock-strewn landscape toward the campsite. They could see the light of the outlaws’ campfire and knew their search was finally at an end. The killers’ trail had been hard to follow, so the going had been slow. Hunt and Anderson had proven elusive, but no more. Thanks to Old Jim’s tracking ability, they had finally caught up with them.

  Trent had learned a lot about following a difficult trail from Old Jim on this trek, and he would forever be grateful for his help and guidance.

  “You ready?” Old Jim asked in a low voice, not wanting to alert Hunt and Anderson to their presence.

  Trent nodded.

  They drew their guns.

  It was time.

  Silently, they moved ever closer until they could see the two men sitting by the fire.

  Trent could easily have gunned them down where they sat, but he controlled the urge. He wasn’t a cold-blooded killer like they were. He was going to take them in and let the law deal with them—and when their judgment day came, he’d be there to watch them hang for murdering his brother.

  Trent and Old Jim positioned themselves a distance apart so they could cover the men in case they tried to make a run for it. Old Jim signaled Trent, and Trent knew what to do.

  “Hold it right there, Hunt, Anderson,” Trent shouted out. “Don’t even think about going for your guns! We’ve got you covered, and we’re taking you in!”