Free Angel In The Saloon (Brides of Glory Gulch) by Jeanne Marie Leach

thought it best to take his time with the introductions. “I
named him that because he was born on the same day Colorado became a state five
years ago. He’s a fine paint horse. That means it looks like he’s got splotches
of paint splattered all over him.” He took her hand and held it up for the
horse to sniff, and then placed it on Colorado’s head, making long strokes down
his face.
    “Colorado, this is Amelia. She’s a nice lady who can’t
see you, so you have to be extra careful with her. She’s not a painted lady,
though.”
    Amelia flung the back of her hand at him, hitting him
in the ribs.
    “Ow!” He laughed, as if her gentle tap could actually
do him some harm.
    “Well, you asked for it, you know.”
    “Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.” He took her
around to the horse’s side and let her touch his mane and run her hand down his
neck and shoulders and finally rub his chest. He was a proud, but gentle horse
and seemed to understand that he must be on his best behavior with this
particular rider.
    Corrin must have been keeping her eyes out for her
niece, for she appeared in the doorway. “Are you getting ready to go?”
    “Yes, Aunt Corrin. Thank you for allowing me to do
this.”
    She waved her hand. “Pishaw. I’ve known Paul for over
twenty years. He’ll take good care of you.”
    “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said, smiling.
    She wagged a finger in front of him. “Besides, you
know I know a lot of burly men in this town, who could knock you out with just
one punch. So I know you’re going to be careful with her.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    She grinned at him and then touched Amelia on the arm.
“Have fun, dear.”
    Amelia placed her hand over her aunt’s and smiled. “I
will.”
    Corrin returned to the saloon.
    Paul helped Amelia into the saddle as gently as if she
were a precious piece of his mother’s fine porcelain that must be handled with
the utmost care. He hoisted himself up and sat directly behind her. He reached
his long arms around her and took up the reigns. They engulfed her, and he
delighted in being so close to her. Her hair smelled like the gentle perfume of
the soon-to-bloom lilac bush in his backyard.
    They rode out of town and shortly began to ascend a
mighty mountain. Noticing how Amelia was gripping the saddle tightly, Paul made
sure to choose the gentlest path he could follow to make the trip less
frightening for her. After about thirty minutes of continuous climbing, the
terrain finally leveled.
    “Do you want to gallop here in the meadow? We’d make
good time that way,” he teased.
    “No! Thank you!”
    Paul laughed and looked around her shoulder into her
face. She was smiling and he thought it very pretty.
    Another ten minutes of easy riding found the two
talking about the sounds Amelia heard, the types of trees they passed, how
fresh and crisp the air was, and how much cooler it was the higher up into the
mountains they rode. Paul couldn’t help himself. He had to smile. He was sure
she was enjoying his company.
    “Here it is,” he announced. “This is what I wanted to
show you.” Paul drew Colorado to a halt and sprang from the horse. With the
same agility he used to put Amelia on the horse, he helped her down, wrapping
one arm around her waist and using his other as a brace for her hand. Once on
the ground, he continued to hold her in his arms to give her a moment to steady
herself. Anyway, that’s what he told her.
    He escorted her about twenty paces, then let go of her
and stepped away, leaving Amelia standing all alone in an unfamiliar place. Without
her cane, he was sure this kind of solitude would probably have frightened her,
but she didn’t seem bothered much.
    “Now,” he said. “Tell me where you are.”
    Amelia relaxed, and he could tell she allowed her
senses to take over. “The air is flowing differently here. We aren’t closed in
by the mountains like we were earlier.”
    “That’s right. We’re in a meadow. What