Free The Quantro Story by Chris Scott Wilson Page A

reason for his travels, just that he had business to attend to with certain men. By the end of his stories they were friends, relaxed, the rigidity of their strangeness to each other forgotten as they enjoyed each other’s company. He had come to respect this black-eyed woman who had the grit and determination to rebuild her life in pioneer country when her husband had run out on her. Many men could not stand up to the odds, let alone a beautiful woman. Her looks alone would cause enough trouble, as tonight had proved.
    She too, had developed a liking for this blonde-haired, blue-eyed, modest cowboy who had saved her from a nasty situation. He was the kind of man she was drawn to, even though there were one or two things that marred the impression she had acquired of him. One was the obvious fast-draw rig he wore, but then a man often had good reason for those things, and she could not blame him for keeping the reasons to himself.
    It was the way of The West.
    A man told another as much as he wished. That was his right. A man had to look out for himself.
    But the more she watched Quantro talk, the more he unsettled her with his masculinity. In passing, he had mentioned he must leave for the Arizona border the next day, but she had pushed it aside. There was enough time to worry about that tomorrow. She thought only of the present; take what you can while you can, and, she conceded she had been a long time without a man. He awoke something within her, a warmth that spread from the base of her stomach to envelop her whole being. It was all she could do to restrain herself from reaching out to touch him. Suddenly, she was nervous.
    She stood up, facing him, hoping he could not detect the nervousness within her that seemed to swell and grow as she slowly smoothed her hands down her dress. She drew strength from his appreciative gaze.
    â€œWhere were you going when you were passing? I thought you were staying at the hotel?”
    Quantro turned his head away from her searching gaze. “Just along the street for a little air,” he mumbled.
    She moved to stand next to him, a hand tentatively reaching out to his shoulder. “I know where,” she said softly. “Two houses further along the street.” There was no derision in her voice, just a quiet understanding. He turned to look up at her and saw her gentle smile.
    â€œWell…” he stumbled.
    Her hand pressed a little harder on his shoulder then she touched his freshly shaven cheek. Her fingertips were like fire as they brushed his skin.
    â€œI understand,” she said quietly. “You’ve been up in the mountains all winter.” Her voice dropped even further so that he could barely hear her. “It’s been a long time for me too.”
    He stood up slowly, her fingers still resting on his cheek, then looked down into her coal black eyes. His arm circled her trim waist and his nostrils savored the sweet woman smell of her, the cleanliness of her lustrous black hair and the subtle cologne that rose from her milky skin.
    He bent a little and kissed her. The joining of their lips was hesitant at first, as if they were both frightened to give of themselves, then as confidence and need replaced their shyness, the kiss became the declaration between them of each’s passion and desires.
    When the kiss ended she opened her eyes and gazed up into the pools of ice-blue that were his own. Her lips moved, not quite pouting, as she formed the most inviting smile he had ever seen.
    â€œI can do a lot more for a man than just cook,” she promised as she took his hand and led him to the stairs.
    The next day he ate his steak for free.

CHAPTER 4
    A tear wrestled its way from the corner of Janey Morgan’s eye and ran fitfully down the smooth skin of her cheek. Out in the street, his back to her, Quantro sat astride the big buckskin stallion, touching his spurs to its flanks. The springiness in the horse’s step gave the illusion