Free Gunslinger by Connie Mason Page B

thinking it over. Too late now, she thought as she washed, dried and put away the supper dishes.
    Eating supper by herself was the worst part of being alone, Chloe decided as she mounted the stairs to her bedroom. She smiled ruefully. There
was
one other thing lonelier than eating alone and that was sleeping alone, but
that
had never occurred to her until Desperado Jones came along.
    She entered her room and lit a lamp. She stared at the long shadows dancing on the walls and felt a sudden chill. She quickly crossed to the window and slammed it shut, but her action did little to dispel the prickles that ran down her spine.
    “Foolish girl,” she said aloud as she removed her gunbelt, draped it over the bedpost and sat down to remove her boots.
    Alerted by a noise, she whipped her head around in the direction of the sound. When Tate Talbot stepped from the deep shadows in the far corner of the room, Chloe glanced at her gunbelt hanging from the bedpost.
    “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Tate warned as he snatched the gunbelt away and tossed it into the corner.
    “What do you want? How did you get in?”
    “Through the window,” Tate said smugly.
    “I could shoot you for breaking and entering and no one would fault me.”
    “Not without a gun, you can’t. I’ve come to give you one last chance to sell your land to Pa before something real bad happens to you and your drovers.”
    “Your father will never get my land,” Chloe bit out. “There is other land available. Why does he want mine?”
    “Pa’s got his reasons. He says to tell you he’ll pay the back taxes and give you five hundred dollars free and clear for the deed to the land. He doesn’t have to give you anything, you understand. He could have it for the taxes alone, but I talked him into offering you something because I still have feelings for you.” He stepped closer. “I still want you, Chloe. You were set to marry me once.”
    “That was before you showed your true colors,”
    Chloe hissed. “I wouldn’t have you now on a silver platter.”
    “That’s too bad,” Tate said with mock regret. “It would make things so much easier for everyone. If you married me, the land would be mine and you wouldn’t have to undertake a trail drive that could prove disastrous to everyone involved.”
    “Are you threatening me?” Chloe charged.
    Tate shrugged. “Take it any way you want.” He stared at her; his gaze traveled up her long legs, then settled disconcertingly on her breasts. “It’s not too late, you know. We can take up where we left off. You’re the best I ever had, you know.”
    “Go to hell!” Chloe shouted, shaking with anger. She’d had just about all she could take from the rapacious bastard.
    “Someone’s coming,” Chloe said, hoping to distract Tate long enough for her to dive under the bed for the shotgun she kept there for emergencies. It worked. When Tate glanced toward the door, Chloe dove to the floor, reached beneath the bed ruffle and retrieved the shotgun. She swung it up at Tate before he could reach for his own weapon.
    “What the hell?” Tate said, his mouth hanging open in surprise. “Where did that come from? Is it loaded?”
    “You’re going to find out if you’re not out of here by the time I count to three.”
    “You’re just ornery enough to do it,” Tate complained as he stared down the gun barrel.
    “One.”
    “I wasn’t gonna hurt you.”
    Two.
    “Shit!” He headed toward the door.
    “The way you came in,” Chloe ordered.
    He scrambled toward the window, threw it open and stepped over the ledge onto the spindly limb of a young oak tree growing outside her window.
    “You ain’t no woman, you’re a damn she-wolf,” Tate called as he clung to the branch. “Me and Pa know how to treat fractious women. You’re gonna be sorry, Chloe Sommers.”
    Chloe heard a loud crack and suddenly Tate disappeared from sight. She ran to the window in time to hear a loud thump as Tate hit the ground,