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    The Gunslinger
    The Gunslinger
    The Gunslinger
    Ebook116 pages1 hour

    The Gunslinger

    By Lorraine Heath

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    About this ebook

    A version of this work originally appeared in the print anthology To Tame a Texan, under the title "Long Stretch of Lonesome."

    A hired gun falls for the one woman who's completely wrong for him in this Western romance from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lorraine Heath.

    Chance Wilder never wanted to be a hero. A road-weary gunslinger with a ruthless reputation, he focuses only on his next target—and his next payday. That is, until a young boy offers Chance everything he owns—a piece of string, a harmonica, and a bent penny—if he'll save his sister from a couple of thugs. Chance agrees, only to discover that the beautiful, fierce young woman in need of rescue is actually the very person he's been hunting: his next mark.

    But after he saves her, Lillian Madison awakens in him long-buried dreams and possibilities. Facing the demons of his past, Chance is forced to question his next move. Dare he risk everything by following his heart … and trust that the road to redemption begins with Lillian?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateJun 24, 2014
    ISBN9780062353078
    The Gunslinger
    Author

    Lorraine Heath

    Lorraine Heath always dreamed of being a writer. After graduating from the University of Texas, she wrote training manuals, press releases, articles, and computer code, but something was always missing. When she read a romance novel, she not only became hooked on the genre, but quickly realized what her writing lacked: rebels, scoundrels, and rogues. She’s been writing about them ever since. Her novels have been recognized with numerous industry awards and have appeared on the USA Today and New York Times bestseller lists.

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    Reviews for The Gunslinger

    4/5

    26 ratings4 reviews

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    • 5/5
      As the footnote says, this short story had originally appeared in the print anthology To Tame a Texan, under the title Long Stretch of Lonesome and it's the perfect length for all of you that have never read this author. This story will hook you to her wonderful story telling, and for all of us that have been this author's faithful followers and fans, this will give you all the "feels" you're used to getting from her.

      If you're in a mood for a sweet historical western with some twists and turns, this is it. It has two wonderful leads, some entertaining second characters and secrets that are heartbreaking when revealed.

      I recommend it to all romance readers and not just western genre readers.

      Melanie for b2b

      Complimentary copy provided by the publisher
    • 5/5
      Very good! A very quick and romantic read! I would def recommend.
    • 5/5
      Very good story about the early American frontier. Good history version
    • 3/5
      good short book

    Book preview

    The Gunslinger - Lorraine Heath

    Chapter 1

    Lonesome, Texas

    1884

    CHANCE WILDER WAS a man with his back against the wall.

    Finding comfort in the rough wood of the saloon pressing against his slender shoulders, his chair tilted back, he studied the comin’s and goin’s, constantly alert to the potential for trouble. He didn’t fear the bullet that might hit him dead on. It was the one that would sneak up from behind that weighed heavily on his mind.

    He scrutinized the young fella—standing with his elbow perched on the bar—who hadn’t taken his eyes off Chance since Chance sauntered through the saloon doors. He’d watched the man down half a bottle of whiskey, his fingers caressing the butt of his gun in between swallows as though unable to find courage in either the liquor or the sidearm. He figured the fidgeting gent would meet his Maker before Chance rode out of town.

    With a slight shift in his hips, Chance eased forward and the chair’s front legs hit the wooden floor with a resounding thud. The saloon suddenly became more hushed than a prayer meeting as wary eyes homed in on him. He could sense the anticipation on the air, the thrumming of excitement that made every last one of them hypocritical vultures.

    His gaze cautiously roaming the room, he slowly tipped the bottle of whiskey until he’d refilled his glass without so much as a splash, his hand steady as a rock. In his line of work, he relied on a steadfast hand. He set down the bottle, picked up the glass, and dropped back against the wall, balancing the chair with the confident ease that he used when cradling his gun in the palm of his left hand.

    He sipped on the amber liquid like a man in no hurry—which he was. He had no one waiting on him, hadn’t had anyone waiting on him since he’d killed his first man at fourteen.

    He heard one cowboy clear his throat and the harsh whisper of another. He didn’t have to hear the words to know what they were discussing.

    Every person in the saloon—every citizen in the town—wanted to know who Chance Wilder had come to Lonesome, Texas, to kill.

    TOBY MADISON HURTLED himself through the swinging doors of the saloon. The thick cigar and cigarette smoke burned his eyes, while the stench of sour whiskey and sweating bodies made him want to puke. Or maybe it was the thick blood trickling down the back of his throat that caused his stomach to lurch. He thought the bully might have busted his nose.

    Hey, boy, get out, a giant cowboy ordered, clamping a large hand onto Toby’s shoulder.

    Toby jerked free, his frenzied gaze darting over the glaring faces. He hadn’t expected half the men in town to lollygag in the saloon this time of day. He’d never find the one for whom he was desperately searching.

    Then he realized that everyone was crowded to the right of the bar, leaving open space that he could see out of the corner of his eye. He swung around. His gut knotted up tighter than a hangman’s noose when he saw the stranger in the black duster sitting in the far corner, alone, his chair tipped back and his silver eyes narrowed as thinly as the sharp-edged blade of a Bowie knife.

    Toby swallowed hard and limped hurriedly across the room. You the gun-for-hire everybody’s talkin’ about? Are you Chance Wilder?

    The man’s eyes narrowed further, and Toby figured he could slice a fella open just by looking at him. If’n you are, I wanna hire you.

    Already been hired, Wilder replied in a quiet raspy voice that still managed to echo around the saloon and cause a shiver to crawl down Toby’s spine.

    He heard gasps and feverish whispers. Even with the blood trailing down his throat, his mouth went dry. But them bullies is beating up my sister. I want you to make ’em leave her be.

    You look old enough to do the job.

    I tried to stop ’em from hurtin’ Lil, but there’s five of ’em—

    The bartender grabbed him, his beefy fingers biting into Toby’s skinny arm. Toby bucked with all his might but couldn’t wrestle free of the relentless grip. Panic clawed through him. He had to save Lil.

    This is no place for you, boy, his captor barked as he hauled Toby across the room like the sack of flour he’d dropped when the bullies grabbed his sister and dragged her behind the general store.

    Desperation edged Toby’s words as he fought frantically to keep his eyes on Wilder. I’ll pay you everything, everything I got!

    Wilder slammed the front legs of his chair against the floor. The bartender froze. Toby wrenched away and moved beyond reach. The gunslinger unfolded his tall, lean body and tugged on the brim of his black Stetson.

    What the hell, he murmured. I ain’t never been paid everything before.

    You want to steer clear of this mess, the bartender said in a voice that Toby didn’t think sounded too sure of what it was saying.

    Wilder pulled one side of his black duster back to reveal a pearl-handled gun housed in a holster slung low on his hip. Everything is a hell of a lot, mister. You gonna better the kid’s offer?"

    No . . . no, sir, the bartender stammered.

    Then don’t tell me my business, because you ain’t paid for the privilege.

    We gotta hurry, Toby announced as he scurried out of the saloon. He heard Wilder’s spurs jangling as he followed. He figured Lil was gonna have a cow when she found out he had hired a gun to save her. But he didn’t see as he’d had a choice.

    CHANCE SAUNTERED AFTER the towheaded kid, lengthening his stride as they distanced themselves from the saloon. Skinny as a willow branch, the boy couldn’t be any older than seven or eight. But he had spunk. Chance had to give him that. And if he wasn’t mistaken, the boy had a broken nose. He hadn’t noticed it until the bartender grabbed the kid to haul him out. It had to hurt like hell, but the boy’s only worry seemed to be his sister. Chance chuckled low. He was looking forward to receiving everything—and how much trouble could it be to chase a few bullies away from a little girl?

    With his booted feet pounding the boardwalk, the boy raced past the general store, flew around a corner, and disappeared between two buildings. Stepping over the split sack of flour that dusted the wooden slats, Chance gave the wagon in front of the general store a passing glance. Then he heard the kid’s indignant yell, quickened his pace, charged into the alleyway, and staggered to a halt as five men gave him an insolent glance, before returning to their business.

    A cowboy in a battered brown hat had one arm wrapped around the boy and was pressing the business end of a pistol to his temple. The boy stood as still as a stone statue, his eyes trained on his sister—pinned against the wall by a man large enough to crush her. Her skirt and petticoats were hiked up to her thighs . . . up to her slender womanly thighs, revealing slender ankles and longs legs that might stretch clear up to her throat. Her burnished hair in wild disarray tumbled past her shoulders. With each labored breath she took, her torn bodice revealed the creamy curve of a small breast. Scratches marred alabaster skin that had probably never seen the sun before that moment. Blood trailed down from a split lower lip and a bruise was forming high on her cheek.

    Her captor shifted, pressed a beefy forearm against her delicate throat and began to unfasten his britches with his other hand. Figured you’d stop fighting with the right incentive, he drawled.

    Defiance shot into her startling cornflower blue eyes and quickly faded into acceptance of her fate. She must have fought like a wildcat to hold the brutish men at bay as long as she had.

    Don’t believe the lady has much interest in your style, Chance said with feigned calmness, wondering why no one had come to her defense until now.

    The apparent leader snapped his head around and snarled, "This ain’t none

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