Free The Loner: Inferno #12 by J.A. Johnstone Page A

We’re much obliged to you for your help.”
    “I didn’t do anything but ride along with you,” The Kid pointed out.
    “Maybe so, but it eased my mind some knowin’ that we had a fella as handy with a gun as you are along with us.”
    The Kid assured Dunlap that he’d be glad to take a turn standing guard again, then went in search of some supper. For some reason, his footsteps led him toward Jessica Ritter’s wagon.
    He expected to find Harwood there, but he didn’t see the scout. Nor was Jessica visible outside the wagon.
    The thought crossed The Kid’s mind that Jessica and Harwood might be inside the wagon. They were engaged to be married, after all.
    He was about to back off and go in search of Violet Price, figuring she would be happy to share her family’s supper with him, when he heard a loud thud inside the wagon, followed by a yelp of pain.
    That didn’t sound good, so The Kid stepped to the back of the wagon and called, “Everybody all right in there?”
    Jessica pushed aside one of the canvas flaps that hung over the vehicle’s rear opening and looked out at him with an irritated expression on her face. The irritation wasn’t actually directed at him, though.
    “I dropped my blasted dutch oven,” she said.
    “Are you all right?” The Kid asked. “One of those things can break a toe.”
    “I’m fine. It didn’t land on my foot. But when I jumped back so it wouldn’t, I banged my head on one of the iron ribs that hold up the canvas cover.”
    The Kid nodded in understanding of what had happened. A bump on the head probably wasn’t too serious.
    “Where’s Harwood?” he asked.
    “Scott said he was going to scout around a little more before it gets dark,” Jessica told him.
    “That’s probably a good idea. He’s devoted to his job.”
    “Yes,” she said with an edge in her voice. “Very devoted.”
    The Kid wasn’t sure what that meant, but he didn’t suppose it was any of his business.
    “Let me give you a hand with that oven,” he offered.
    For a second Jessica looked like she was going to refuse, but then she nodded her head. “All right. Thanks.”
    The Kid lowered the tailgate, stepped up on it, and climbed in to the wagon. With the sun already down, it was pretty dim inside, under the arching canvas cover. He saw the dutch oven and bent to pick it up.
    Jessica reached for it at the same time. “I said you could help, I didn’t say you had to pick it up by yourself.”
    Their hands brushed together and stopped short of the dutch oven, with skin pressed to skin. The Kid expected Jessica to pull her hand away, but she didn’t.
    “I can get it—” he began.
    She turned, put her hand on the back of his neck to hold him still as she came into his arms and pressed her mouth to his.
    The kiss was unexpected, but The Kid didn’t pull away. Since his wife’s death, he hadn’t sought out any romantic relationships, but a few of them had come his way and he hadn’t turned them down. Not all of them, anyway. He still enjoyed the feel of a woman in his arms and the taste of her lips.
    But this was just asking for trouble he didn’t need, and The Kid knew it. He’d instinctively put his arms around Jessica, but moved his hands to her shoulders and tried to ease her away from him.
    She clung to him with obvious need and desperation. When he finally succeeded in breaking the kiss, she whispered urgently, “Damn you, Morgan. Why did you have to come riding along and get me all mixed up like this?”
    “If you’re mixed up, it’s because of you, not me,” he told her. “You’d be better off thinking about your fiancé—”
    “Stop it! I don’t want to think about him. He’s not thinking about me right now, I can promise you that. The only thing he’s thinking about is finding some Apaches to kill!”
    “That sounds to me like a good way of staying alive,” The Kid said. “I’m sorry if there’s trouble between the two of you, but I’m sure as hell not the