Chapter 1

1

The cloud of dust on the horizon warned Eliza of imminent danger. She grabbed her gun, a heavy pistol with a cracked butt, before hurrying John Brownstone from the garden to the barn.

“What’s going on, Miss ‘Liza?” John asked, confused but compliant, as she pushed him up the ladder to the loft.

“Somebody’s coming. He’ll be here soon, and I don’t want him seeing you, whoever he is,” Eliza explained. “Here, get under this hay.”

John burrowed into the hay, tossing more over his back. “How long ‘til I can come out?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he just wants to water his horses. Maybe he’ll want to stay the night.” Eliza shook her head. “I’ll try to get rid of him.”

“I can pretend to be your boy, Missus. Just tell ‘em I belong to you,” John said, looking at her with concerned eyes.

“No. You know I couldn’t do that John. Besides, I’ve seen posters with your face. What if he’s seen them, too? I can’t risk it. You can’t risk it.” Eliza kissed his forehead, fresh fear crawling up her throat. “Stay here until I come in for you.”

John nodded. “Yes’m.”

Eliza backed out of the loft, still clutching the gun in one hand. She knew how to shoot, but she didn’t know if she’d be able to aim and fire at a living man. Most likely, the stranger would just ask for a bucket of water and be on his way. But there was always the chance that a bit of water wouldn’t be enough, and nobody could defend the homestead except Eliza herself.

The cloud of dust grew larger as it approached, but Eliza could tell it was just one man and not an entire gang or stagecoach. She settled in the shade of the front porch, shielding her eyes with her hand to better gauge the stranger’s arrival. It took just minutes from the first sighting for the large, gray stallion to gallop into her yard, startling the dogs lazing in the shade.

A battered hat obscured the man’s face, shading his eyes. He seemed to be looking at her, but Eliza couldn’t tell. She pulled herself to her full five feet, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin. “What do you want?” she demanded.

The stranger didn’t answer. Instead, he dismounted from his horse and led it to the well. She watched silently as he dipped the bucket into the clear water, drinking from it liberally before allowing the horse to drink from the pail.

“What do you want?” Eliza asked again once he straightened.

“I’m looking for a man,” he said, his voice gritty despite the cool water. He approached her, loosely holding the horse’s reins. “Have you seen any strangers around here?”

Eliza tensed, tightening her grip on the gun. “There are no men here. There’s nobody here but me.”

He spat from the side of his mouth, squinting. “Is that a fact?”

Eliza realized her mistake, her heart skipping into double-time. “Except my husband, of course.”

He pulled a thin cigar from his saddlebags, chewing on the end as he spoke. “Where’s your husband? Perhaps he knows who I’m looking for.”

Eliza hesitated, understanding she had made her second mistake when his eyes drifted past the house to the barn.

“What’s in there?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she answered quickly.

“Then I guess you won’t mind if I take care of my horse? It’s been a long ride for both of us.” His eyes dared her to turn down his request.

She nodded, taking up his challenge. “You’re welcome to feed and water your horse. He looks tired.”

Eliza led him to the barn, trying to force her heartbeat to return to normal. It wasn’t just fear that made it race; there was something in the stranger’s eyes, in the way he looked at her. He was a starving man—starving for food, for companionship, and for something else. Perhaps the man he sought had something to do with the hunger that lined his face and clouded his eyes?

“I think I’ll have a look around,” he announced once his horse was safely tethered.

“No.” Eliza pointed the gun at his chest, waiting until he had his hands in the air before continuing. “Now, you’ve got your food and you’ve got your water. I told you there was nothing else here.”

He smiled, a sour yet amused action. Without warning, he drew his gun and shot the wall above her head. Eliza didn’t even have a chance to blink before he replaced his gun in his holster. “That’s your warning shot.”

Eliza slowly lowered her gun. “Why didn’t you just shoot me?”

“I’m not here to kill random women,” he said, eyeing the ladder. “I’m looking for a man. If he’s here, then I’ll leave without further trouble.”

“And if he’s not?” Eliza asked, watching him climb to the loft, her heart now in her throat. She had promised John that she would keep him safe, hide him from the bounty hunters, even at the risk of her own life. But now she stood there, helplessly, trying to gather the courage it took to shoot a man in the back.