Free Walking on Air by Catherine Anderson Page A

room.”
    Gabe turned as if to leave, hating himself even as he felt victorious. Nan Sullivan wasn’t a stupid woman. The success she’d made of her shop proved that. Right now, he could almost hear her mind racing as she weighed her options. And Gabe had given her none. If she let him walk out that door, he’d eat his hat and have his boots for dessert.
    •   •   •
    Nan’s knees were rattling so badly that she could barely keep them locked to remain standing. She watched the stranger in black take quick strides toward the door, knowing as he covered the distance that she could not allow that overhead bell to jangle. In a very real way, it would be her death knell. And, dear God, what would become of Laney, her bright, talented, gregarious little sister? Nan knew precisely what would happen. The moment their father got word of Laney’s whereabouts, he would come to fetch her, take her back to Manhattan, and marry her off at age sixteen or younger to some fat old lecher to form a shipping or industrial alliance that would make him even wealthier than he already was.
    As terrified as Nan was for herself, fear for Laney loomed foremost in her mind. Nan had tried so hard to give her sister a better childhood than she’d had, encouraging Laney to have friends, bolstering her confidence by showering her with praise, and always urging her on, even when the child set herself nearly impossible goals. As a result, Laney was everything that Nan wished she were herself, if only she’d been given a chance. She would not allow Martin Sullivan to undo all of that.
    “Wait!” Nan cried just as the man touched the doorknob. “I don’t even know your name!”
    He stopped, turned to face her again, and then swept his black hat from his head in a mockery of gentlemanly politeness. “I beg your pardon, Miss Sullivan. I should have properly introduced myself before asking for your hand. Gabriel Valance, at your service.” He bent slightly at the waist in an offhand bow. “Gabe is my preference.”
    Nan didn’t think her heart could jitter any more violently, but it did when she heard his name, which was almost legendary in Random and undoubtedly in other towns as well. “
The
Gabriel Valance, the gunslinger?”
    He settled his Stetson back on his dark head, cocking the brim just so. “One and the same, ma’am. I don’t think I’m quite as bad a fellow as folks make me out to be, but that’s neither here nor there. Fourteen men have tried to kill me, I didn’t feel obliged to let them, and so I got them before they could get me.” A crease appeared between his black brows. “Well, to be honest, there was one recent exception, but though the other fellow shot me first, my Colt also found its mark, and he fell face-first in the street beside me, dead as a doornail, just like all the others who went before him.”
    “Fourteen?”
    “A good thing for me, I guess. Thirteen is a really unlucky number.”
    Once again Nan felt as if she might faint. Moving unsteadily to a crate of merchandise, she sank weakly onto the splintery wooden slats. Her future plans had never included marriage, let alone marriage to a man who informed her coolly that he’d killed fourteen men. Did he carve notches on his gun belt? Her gaze slid to his hips. He lifted an eyebrow, and she realized what he must be thinking. Hastily she averted her eyes, but not before she saw his mouth quiver in quickly suppressed amusement. Her gaze darted to a beaded clutch bag on a nearby shelf. She longed to throw it in his face. Instead, she murmured faintly, “Fourteen men? Dear heaven.”
    “Nothing about my life has been heavenly, Miss Sullivan. My mama was a whore who got sick and died on me when I was only a little tyke. My father was a coldhearted bastard who made a success of his first gambling establishment and then destroyed anyone who got in his way to buy another and another, until he became a man of inestimable wealth.” He paused and