Captivated By A Gunslinger (Emerald Falls Book 3)
Page 17
The man rested his hands on his belt, and she realized he had a revolver strapped to each of his hips. An uncomfortable grunt slipped past her lips, and her cheeks burned hotter. She tore her gaze away from him and set back to rinsing the shirt in front of her.
She couldn't speak to him. Oscar would kill her if he found out the man had been around.
The stranger cleared his throat as he took a step forward.
"I, uh, don't mean to intrude any, ma'am. But are you okay?"
Bridget's fingers stopped on the shirt, pinching the fabric into the rocks under the water. Did he want the truth or a canned response? Was she okay at that moment, or in general?
She cursed herself for even allowing her brain to go in that direction. It didn't matter what he meant. She couldn't go blabbing her situation to some stranger. They'd kill her. Maybe him too. And he was only a kind stranger.
She glanced up at him, and beneath his lifted, curious brows, his mouth parted as he gave her a friendly smile.
Make that a kind stranger with a beautiful face that twinged something in her heart.
He needed the canned response. For his own sake.
"I'm fine. Thank you," she murmured.
Instead of satisfying him enough to leave her be, his smile grew larger and he came closer.
Shoot. What was he doing? Her face grew taut as she stared at him, pushing as much energy as she could muster in his direction. Please leave!
"Glad to hear that, ma'am," he said as he walked alongside the stream until he was directly in front of her. "I've never seen anyone out in these woods before. There's no houses around here. I suppose you surprised me is all."
She watched his long legs swing before coming to a stop. He moved so casually. As if he didn't have a thing in the world tied to him.
She envied him.
He knelt on the bank across from her, and his gaze moved over her basket of clothes.
Near the water's edge, the sunlight reflected into his face. Some soft edges and shadowed features that she hadn't been able to see before lit up. The dancing rays caught his eyes, and she stared at the sparkling green with an open mouth.
After a moment, he grunted a chuckle, and she realized he was watching her. She jumped back to task, eyes on the shirt and cheeks burning all over again.
"What are you doing out here in the forest by yourself anyway?" he asked.
There was no beating around the bush or hidden questions. He got right to it.
She decided it was the best way to go.
"Doing chores."
She raised her gaze to him just in time to see the light laugh move his shoulders.
"I see. A good a spot as any, I suppose. Though I think your side is better."
She frowned, glancing at the rocks around her without complete comprehension.
"The sun's in my eyes over here," he said, lifting a hand to block the reflection on the water. "You chose the smarter side."
His mouth cracked into a grin as he stood and strode into the stream.
Her insides clenched when she realized what he was doing and nearly pressed the soaking shirt into her chest in surprise. She wrung it in her hands as she the cowboy walked over.
The stream was shallow, and his boots a thick black leather. The water barely topped his ankle as he made his way across. Then, much to her surprise, he plopped down next to her basket and rested his arms on his drawn-up knees.
He smelled of leather and coffee, and she couldn't help but pull in a deep breath of it.
"Yes, good spot. Cool. Shady. No wonder you're working right here. Name's Mason by the way," he said with an outstretched hand. "Mason Kent."
Bridget stared at his hand. It looked strong, as if he could squeeze the life out of her with it. She closed her eyes for a moment, disgusted by her new perception of people, and shook the thought away. His strong hand with long fingers and a tantalizing sinewy forearm was fit for horse-riding or other hard labor. Not for the dirty deeds of the men she'd met since coming to Wyoming.
She tossed the damp shirt onto the rocks again and wiped the moisture from her hand before placing it in his.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Bridget."
His lips spread into a sly smile. "Pleasure. If I'd known I was going to meet an Irish princess in the woods today, I'd have gotten up a lot sooner."
Click here to read more!
Also by Ivy McAdams
Emerald Falls Series
Kidnapped by an Outlaw
Seduced by a Wrangler
Captivated by a Gunslinger
Emerald Falls Novella
Rescued by a Desperado (prequel)
About the Author
Ivy McAdams wants to be a cowgirl when she grows up.
She may reside on the beaches of Florida, but her heart lives in the wide open spaces of Wyoming. She grew up dreaming of horses, playing cowboys and indians on her grandfather’s farm, and curling up on the couch with him to watch westerns. Cowboys have been her heroes ever since.
Ivy loves the warm feelings and happily ever afters of a romance novel and has married her passions together to bring you historical western romance stories.
When not writing, she’s taking care of two beautiful girls and teaching them to adore books as much as she did growing up. She can’t wait until they’re big enough to dress in cowboy hats and ride horses with her.
https://ivymcadams.com