Free The Bounty Hunter and the Heiress by Carol Finch Page A

tactless question. It was obvious to everyone with eyes in his head that he and Eva didn’t belong together.
    When the coach clattered to a halt then lurched unexpectedly, Eva was catapulted into Delbert Barnes’s lap. The bookkeeper grunted uncomfortably then hoisted her upright. Her stylish hat snagged on Delbert’s jeweled stickpin and stuck there. Her coiffure came untangled and tumbled over the side of her face when Delbert tried to settle her back in the seat across from him.
    â€œGoodness.” She leaned forward to retrieve her hat from Delbert’s jacket and surveyed the two broken feathers that hung like limp antennas. “I should have worn a helmet.”
    When she flung open the door, preparing to climb down without assistance, an eerie sensation—like another death rattle—overcame Raven. “No!” he yelled when she surged forward to place her foot on the step.
    Eva’s startled yelp was followed by the unmistakable sound of a whizzing bullet that thudded into the wall of the coach. The shot missed her head—and Delbert’s shoulder—by a scant few inches.
    â€œGet down and stay down!” Raven roared as he lunged over the passengers to grab the nape of Eva’s dress and jerk her back inside.
    Another gunshot whistled over Eva’s head as Raven sent her sprawling on Delbert’s lap again. Crawling over bodies, Raven somersaulted from the coach and came to his knees, firing both pistols in the direction of the shot.
    â€œRun for it,” he barked at the startled passengers. “Use the coach and horses for cover and take Eva with you!”
    Raven fired repeatedly while the passengers piled from the opposite side of the coach then scurried into the stage station. He cursed foully when he heard the clatter of hooves beating a hasty retreat on the rocky trail above the station.
    Then and there, he decided that the sniper was ex-army or part Indian because of his guerilla fighting skills. He attacked and retreated before Raven could pinpoint his exact location and the sniper was on the move constantly. Which is exactly what Raven would have done if he were in the bushwhacking business. The only good news was that the sniper didn’t have the unerring accuracy of a sharpshooter.
    Scowling at the new complication he’d encountered, Raven stuffed his pistols into his holsters and strode inside. “This day just keeps getting worse,” he muttered to the world at large.

Chapter Five
    J ames Archer jerked his horse to a halt and swore sourly. “Damn J. D. Raven to hell and back,” he sneered as he reloaded his Winchester.
    He’d had several confrontations with Raven in the past and his hatred had festered as Widow Flanders’s had. The opportunity to dispose of Raven was too good to pass up. He could have put an end to that half-breed bastard and his lady friend if he hadn’t gotten trigger-happy and overanxious.
    James had expected Raven to be the first one to climb down from the coach, not that auburn-haired chit in calico.
    The horse James was riding whinnied—just as it had at the previous stage stop, alerting Raven to his presence on the hill. James glared mutinously at the horse then walloped it upside the head for spoiling the ambush attempt earlier. The horse danced skittishly and James yanked hard on the reins, causing the bit to dig deeply into the animal’s tender mouth.
    â€œI’ll break you, you contrary beast,” he muttered then gouged his heels painfully into the horse’s flanks.
    The horse nickered again as it pranced on the stone path. James sneered impatiently then used the barrel of his rifle as a club on the horse’s neck. Before the animal reared up and unseated him, he dug in his heels again—hard. He rode away, mentally planning his next attempt to bring down the legendary J. D. Raven and leave him for buzzard bait.
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    Eva appraised the damaged hat she had clamped in