Lynna Banning – Her Sheriff Bodyguard (страница 1)
“Caroline.” He scarcely recognized his own voice.
Barely aware of what he was doing, he deliberately turned her to face him, bent his head, and caught her mouth under his.
He didn’t know how long he moved over her lips, but he did know he never wanted to stop. She was sweet beyond belief, and soft. And female. So female he ached all over.
“Don’t you ever,
He could see her body shaking; the ruffles down the front of her shirtwaist trembled.
He stared at her. Her eyes blazed into his and without thinking he reached for her arm.
“Stay away,” she warned. “Just stay away from me.”
Women in the Old West struggled to be treated as equals, to own property in their own names and to exercise their right to vote—things we take for granted in today’s America.
This story reminds us that such rights had to be fought for.
Her Sheriff Bodyguard
Lynna Banning
LYNNA BANNING combines her lifelong love of history and literature in a satisfying career as a writer. Born in Oregon, she graduated from Scripps College and embarked on a career as an editor and technical writer, and later as a high school English teacher. She enjoys hearing from her readers. You may write to her directly at PO Box 324, Felton, CA 95018, USA, email her at carowoolston@att.net or visit Lynna’s website at lynnabanning.net.
In memory of my mother, Mary Banning Yarnes,
and my grandmother, Leora Boessen Banning,
both of whom quietly lived lives that
enhanced the inherent rights of women.
Contents
I, Fernanda Elena Maria Sobrano, am tell you this thing from my heart, how I find this man, Hawk Rivera, and ask for his help. My lady she not know what I do, but you will understand when I tell what happen.
“Sheriff, you can’t miss this.”
Hawk Rivera tilted his head so he could see the pudgy overeager face of the mayor from beneath the broad brim of his well-worn gray Stetson. “Like hell I can’t.”
“But everybody in town’ll be there!”
Hawk winced. All the more reason he should stay away. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the townspeople of Smoke River, just that he didn’t like them in bunches. “Mingling,” his mother had called it. He hated mingling. Made the back of his neck crawl like two dozen spiders had been dropped down his shirt collar. Mayor O’Grady cleared his throat. “She came in on the afternoon train. Fine-looking woman.”
Hawk shifted his boots to a new spot on his paper-littered desk. “Save your breath, Harve. Not interested.”