Free The Outlaw Bride by Kelly Boyce

Connor had not budged. Either he was a heavy sleeper, or too exhausted by events of yesterday to allow small sounds to disturb his slumber. She had barely slept a wink last night, tossing and turning, thinking about the promise she’d made to Grant Langston. She’d found the Con he spoke of, of that she was certain. How many Connor Langstons could there be, after all? But she’d held off passing on Grant’s apology.
    She could hardly blurt out her story now, or tell Connor the truth without putting her own freedom in jeopardy.
    Connor was the law. She was an outlaw’s wife. The two were hardly compatible. And the last thing she needed was for him to toss her out, or worse, lock her up, before she had a chance to make good on her promise.
    The best plan she could come up with was to get him to open up to her about Grant and see if she couldn’t ferret out the information she needed to track down Grant’s girl.
    Connor proved reticent to talk about his family, maybe because they had just met, or maybe that was simply the way he was. What she did know was he had come to town a month after Grant’s death. Was that significant or just coincidence?
    She needed answers to these questions. Preferably, before the real Hannah Stockdale arrived in town and her ruse was discovered.
    As things stood now, she had no idea where or even who this girl was. All she knew was she had to be in Fatal Bluff. Before Rogan and his gang attacked the stagecoach, Grant had spoken of returning home to Fatal Bluff. And if this was his home, then his girl had to be here somewhere. It was just a matter of finding out where without giving herself up in the process. Promises were hard to keep from the wrong side of a jail cell.
    Katherine stopped stirring the eggs, the wooden spoon going still in her hand. Was it possible Jenny could be—?
    But no. She shook her head.
    The little girl was the picture of Connor. Which begged the other question—who cared for Jenny while he was off bounty hunting? Had his wife only died recently, forcing him to settle down and take a more stable job? One would think the itinerant nature of bounty hunting was not conducive to raising a family.
    She let out a breath and continued whisking the eggs. She would just have to dig a little deeper until she discovered the truth.
    A dash of salt finished the eggs. She gave one last swirl with the wooden spoon then picked up the bowl to empty it into the hot skillet waiting on the stove.
    A terrifying screech rent the air.
    Katherine screamed and whirled in the direction of the sound. The bowl slipped out of her flour-dusted hands and hit the floor with a resounding crash. Crockery and noise scattered about the room.
    The window provided a clear view of a proud rooster strutting across the top of the chicken coop. He puffed out his feathered chest and crowed again.
    “What’s wrong?”
    Katherine spun back around. “No, wait—!” She threw her hand up but it was too late. Connor’s foot hit the slippery egg mixture. He skidded, his arms flinging wildly for balance until his body collided with hers.
    Strong bands of muscle wrapped around her, pressing her cheek against the warm, solid flesh of his chest. The force knocked the wind out of her and set her off balance. She tried to hold her footing, but it was no use. The eggs had slicked the floor until it had the consistency of ice. She braced for the impact.
    It never came. Connor rolled them, using his body to buffer her fall. She wasn’t sure which was harder, his chest or the floor, but she appreciated the chivalrous attempt just the same. Connor grunted as they hit and then rolled again, pinning her beneath him.
    He pushed himself up on his elbow, hovering over her by mere inches. The heat from his body seared through her clothes. She didn’t know where to look. He was naked from the waist up, giving her a close-up view of a well-muscled chest, strong arms and a set of shoulders that blocked out everything beyond them.