Free Claudia Dain by A Kiss To Die For Page A

could just about see the whole room. There was a single large window on line with the bar and two glass doors, open now, since the weather was so friendly. It was through those open doors that he saw her walk by, bustle as busy as ever.
    A train whistle blew high and long and a long curl of dark hair flew back over her shoulder as she picked up her pace.
    "What is it with that gal and trains?" he muttered.
    O'Shaughnessy's tongue snapped back inside his mouth to hide behind his teeth. Seemed the man would talk about anything, anything except the little Samaritan who smelled of wildflowers.
    "She got a name?" Jack asked, pushing his glass away from him. "I don't think there's any warrant out on her; this isn't business," Jack joked lightly.
    "Then it'd be personal? You don't need to know nothing personal about that gal."
    Shaughn O'Shaughnessy clearly had his limits and that gal was one of them.
    "Then let's make it business," Jack said, sick of the dodge and wanting a simple answer. "She ever leave town? Ever take that train she's always meeting?"
    Shaughn blanched a bit, the red running away from his cheeks to bury itself in his neck. Jack Skull with a burr in his boot was no fun to mess with.
    "She stays put, like me, even more. Never left Abilene that I've ever heard." Jack just stared at him, considering, waiting, until Shaughn said, "She's a good girl of good family and all her family's here, in Abilene."
    "Her name?"
    "Anne. Anne Ross."
    Jack smiled and pulled his hat down low. "No, no bounty on an Anne Ross. Thanks for your help."
    Shaughn didn't answer, he just threw his rag down on the bar hard enough to make it slap and then wiped so hard he got a splinter in his palm.
    Doc Carr stuck his head in the door just then and Jack walked out to meet him. Their horses were hitched in front of the sheriff's, Joe looking eager enough for all that he'd already been ridden a distance that morning. Carr looked nowhere near as eager as Joe did. They all knew why.
    Lane stood chuckling on the boardwalk in front of his office as they rode off; Jack ignored him. Malcolm Carr turned in his saddle to scowl. Neither one had any effect on Lane's good humor.
    Jack turned once to look back toward the train. Anne Ross stood there, trim and straight, a pillar of immovable expectation in the midst of arrivals and departures. Jack shook his head at the sight she made and then turned his face south, toward Lyons Creek.
    * * *
    They found the place late that afternoon, when the dipping sun cast their mounts in long shadow. Carr led in, since his was the familiar face and they didn't want a bullet shot into the dust to be the first howdy they heard in that isolated place.
    But no shot rang out. No one answered the doc's call of greeting. No sound came from inside the squat sod house that hunkered down within sound of Lyons Creek's babble. A few scrawny chickens scratched in the raw dirt around the gaping door; there was no dog to give warning. All was quiet in that late, slanting afternoon light, a house was never meant to be so quiet. Jack felt the muscles in his stomach clench at the heavy quiet of the place and he licked his lips to cover the rolling beginnings of nausea. He never could stand the heavy press of quiet when there should be the sounds of living. Jack fingered his gun, stroking the heft of his grip, finding comfort. Carr led in, but Jack pulled his six-gun free of the holster, ready to shoot anything that didn't look exactly right.
    The first thing that hit him was the smell. Wool socks gone wet, a horse blanket that hadn't been shaken in a month, a hat changed color from sweat; those were the flashes he had of what could make that smell. And it was dark. The only light came from the open door and that was a yellow bolt across a black dirt floor, lighting only itself and not casting the room in anything but heavy shadow. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust and when they did, he saw her. Sprawled in the dirt next to what