DARK WARRIOR: KID
Historical Western Romance
Dark cloth Series
Book Two
Copyrighted © May 08, 2015 by Lenore Wolfe
Amazon Kindle Edition
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Triquetra Press
Cedar Rapids, Iowa
First Printing April 08, 2015
ASIN: B00RYCTF62
Copyrighted © May 08, 2015 by Lenore Wolfe
Amazon Kindle Edition
All rights reserved.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Bestselling author, Lenore Wolfe’s best seller, Dark Warrior: To Tame a Wild Hawk
“It was emotional, beautiful, and even suspenseful. A fabulous read!”
By Christie Snow on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords and Goodreads
This series was inspired by my childhood in Montana—and by the man who always felt he’d been born in the wrong century….
HISTORICAL WESTERN ROMANCE
Dark Cloth Series by Lenore Wolfe
DARK WARRIOR: TO TAME A WILD HAWK
Dark Cloth Series Book One
Released February 2011
A mystical Historical Western Romance
DARK WARRIOR: KID
Dark Cloth Series Book Two
To be released April 08 2015
A mystical Historical Western Romance
DARK WARRIOR: JAKE
Dark Cloth Series Book Three
To be released July 2015
A mystical Historical Western Romance
DARK WARRIOR: CORD
Dark Cloth Series Book Four
To be released October 2015
A mystical Historical Western Romance
DARK WARRIOR: WHITEWOLF
Dark Cloth Series Book Five
To be released December 2015
A mystical Historical Western Romance
WITCH FANTASY
Daughters of the Circle Series by Lenore Wolfe
DAUGHTERS OF THE CIRLCE
Shadows in Ravenwood
Daughters of the Circle Series Book One
Released March 08 2015
WITCHES OF RAVENWOOD
Daughters of the Circle Book Two
To be released June 04 2015
Dark Paranormal Fantasy sister series by Lenore Wolfe
THE FALLEN ONE
Sons of the Dark Mother Series Book One
To be Re-released January 2015
Dark Fantasy
A Tribute Novel
EMBRACED BY SHADOW
Sons of the Dark Mother Book Two
To be released July 2015
Dark Fantasy
DOORWAY OF THE TRIQUETRA
Children of Atlantis Series Book One
Released June 2011
Dark Paranormal Fantasy
JAGUAR WITCH
Children of Atlantis Series Book Two
To be released June 2015
Dark Paranormal Fantasy
SOLSTICE FIRE
Daughters of the Dark Moon Series Book One
To be released June 2016
Dark Paranormal Fantasy
PERKS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SIGN UP FOR MY NEW RELEASES
ALSO BY LENORE WOLFE
READER PERKS
SOMETHING NEW I’M WORKING ON
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PERKS
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Epilogue
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SIGN UP FOR MY NEW RELEASES
ALSO BY LENORE WOLFE
READER PERKS
SOMETHING NEW I’M WORKING ON
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To those who remind me to never give up on love….
But I especially want to thank my readers. I look forward to your feedback always.
Dark Warrior: KID
From the Dark Cloth Series
Book Two
Prologue
1876 Richmond, Virginia
The old man held a locket in his left hand. He stared at the photo of a beautiful young woman and a three year old child, a single, silent tear slipping down his face. With shaky hands, he tipped a bottle with his right hand, spilling amber liquid into a glass.
Taking the glass in hand, he tossed back the drink, swallowing the biting liquid in one swig. He pulled this off without taking his eyes off the picture of the child in the locket.
He gazed at her, visibly flinching while he sat there gazing at her beautiful eyes.
A man sat watching him from a comfortable chair, half-way across the room. He guarded over the old timer daily, mostly observing—always waiting. Disgusted by what he’d witnessed, he poured himself another cup of tea. Blowing across the hot brew, he examined the older man from across the brim of his cup.
Would this time-worn, old fellow ever get over his granddaughter?
The man had long since grown sick of hearing about the child the man had lost, years before. He’d long since grown sick of listening. And, most of all, he’d long since grown sick of waiting.
His patience had stretched to breaking, as he grew older himself while he waited, putting his life on hold while he postponed his own future—waiting for some old man to die.
The older man only stared at the photo. And the man knew that, though one couldn’t tell by her likeness in the black and white photo, the child had the green-yellow eyes of a cat.
The man had heard the old timer talk of her in detail often enough, so that he would have known how she’d look himself, if she’d stood in front of him now. But, in reality, he didn’t need anyone to tell him that.
He remembered the child himself. He’d known her laughter, well enough.
Now, listening to some old chap, lamenting about her daily, felt as though someone poured daily doses of salt into his own wounds.
He rememb
ered her alright, when she’d been a young, happy child, with bouncing, yellow curls and bright eyes. He remembered. And he hated that he remembered.
His attention snagged on his own internal hell when the other man trembled.
“I only wanted the best for my daughter,” the man said.
Yeah, yeah, he thought. He knew how much the man wished he could see her flashing gaze in the photo. And he knew how the old timer grieved about how he’d lost so much. He knew. He’d heard about it often enough—too often.
The old man had only wanted the best for his daughter, but soon, deep into his cups, he’d be asking anyone who’d listened how his wish had translated into losing her—and how this had led to losing his granddaughter too.
He watched the man tip the bottle again, while he sat waiting across the room. The man didn’t glance up at him, though he knew why he waited. He knew the answer would be the same—it always was.
A knock at the door brought him to his feet. Quiet, like a cat, he crossed the room and opened it. In low tones, the man on the other side gave him the report he’d been seeking.
“They failed?” he asked. “How did they fail? Never mind. Hire him, and if he also fails, bring her here—so I can take care of her myself.”
He closed the door, turning to stare at the old man. It was his fault he had to do these things now. Well, no matter. The old timer was about to get his wish.
He stood there, watching him for several minutes. Finally, he lost his patience, walking to stand over him.
“We found her,” he said to him.
For the first time, the locket slipped through the old man’s drunken fingers, convinced his inebriated state had been responsible for what he’d just heard. Finally, the older man gawked up at him.
“We found her,” he said again, gazing hard into the old man’s eyes. “And we’re bringing her home as we speak.”
A single tear broke free and slipped down the man’s leathered face, but he did not try to wipe it away. “Where’s she been all this time?” he finally asked, sitting there, silent for a long moment, before he finally looked away.
“They found her in Cheyenne,” he said in low tones. “And—well—we’ll get her here, don’t worry.” He picked up the locket, handing it back to the old man.
The chain slipped through his fingers and back into the older man’s hands, as his eyes glazed over, staring at the watch. “What are you going to do?” he said.
“Don’t worry. We’ve figured out exactly what lure it will take to get her to follow.”
That got the old timer’s attention. “Why on earth would you do such a thing?”
He folded his arms in front of his chest. “It would seem that your grand-daughter is deadly with a set of pistols—and even more deadly with a skinning knife.” He walked to the door. “We couldn’t take any chances. After all—you wouldn’t want anything to happen to her, now would you?”
The old man flinched at that. “What about Rose?” he asked.
That gave him pause. “Who?” he said. “Who’s Rose?”
But the old timer had sunk back into the glazed look that he always seemed to disappear behind. He stared at him for a long moment. Finally, he shrugged, and then he slipped silently out into the hall.
Chapter One
Dreams of Wedding Bells
There would be no wedding-dress today, either. Kat nudged a clump of dried mud with the toe of her shoe. She wanted to kick it—but couldn’t with these stupid shoes on. She stared down at herself. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear that the universe conspired against her—to sabotage all her attempts at getting married.
She glanced down at where the mud stained her dainty shoes.
She still couldn’t get over the fact that she’d worn these shoes. That Mandy and Meg had succeeded in talking her into putting them on—more-or-less talked her into wearing them. And not just any shoes, but tiny, fancy dress shoes—when she should be wearing boots.
This whole affair of trying to get married made her feel as though she were a fraud. Mandy and Meg actually had her wearing lady’s shoes—and dressing in fancy dresses.
Well, they weren’t all that fancy—if you compared them to those fine city girls that sometimes arrived on the train but, to Kat, any dress spelled fancy.
In spite of all of her efforts to become a good wife, the things that would turn her into a good wife, she’d failed at becoming girly. Kat had been trained as a warrior. Fighting had been all she’d ever known. She’d helped Mandy fight McCandle, as the gun-shooting, knife wheeling—fighter she’d become.
Now look at her.
Kat glowered down at her dress, then scowled. Even though that range war had been over for several months, all the proper speaking and dressing in the world hadn’t changed the fact that Kid and Kat hadn’t succeeded in getting married. That they still hadn’t found their way around all these delays that seemed to always get in their way.
Kat had been with Mandy, living on her ranch, then Jake and Kid’s, since she’d come to Cheyenne, intent on killing McCandle for killing her people. Once she’d figured out that Mandy wanted the same thing she did, to take McCandle down, she’d been only too happy to join up with her hands, to help.
And they’d done just that—even if McCandle had given them hell for the doing.
Yet, that had been several months ago, and ever since then, Kat and Kid had failed to get married.
First, there were the deadlines for taking the horses and cattle to the tribes, hiding and starving in Canada. And then, she and Kid had followed Mandy and Hawk up North to help White Wolf, another friend of Mandy’s, with a Captain at a fort who’d chased him for taking his daughter.
Why, Kat wouldn’t be surprised if something else presented itself—any minute now—to derail her marriage plans.
Wasn’t that what her dreams had been warning her about lately? Wasn’t that what they kept trying to tell her was exactly about to happen, again, ever since that attempt on her life?
She really didn’t want to think about that.
Kat had pretty much figured out that fate seemed determined to have its way with her wedding—but fate had dealt her a low blow with whoever had taken that shot at her the other day, while she’d been riding to town. The only reason they’d missed was because Kid had noticed the glint off the gun-barrel—and yelled at her to duck, just in time.
Kat stepped up onto the boarded walk, to get out of the direct sun, from where she stood waiting for Mandy on one of the side-streets of Cheyenne. The sun blazed down on the mud, quickly drying it into the clumps that Kat had been kicking around.
These confounded dresses were a lot warmer than her leathers, she thought.
She glared at the door of the store that Mandy had disappeared into. She knew she’d be in there, talking to Meg about ordering her a dress, with Cord.
Cord ran the mercantile, and Kat had to wonder if he’d been able to work up the courage to talk Meg into marrying him. She nearly smiled. He shouldn’t be trying to solve her and Kid’s union—when he couldn’t figure out his own.
Cord and Meg were always quarreling. Anyone could see they were in love—anyone but the two doing the actual arguing.
Kat scowled at the door to the mercantile, caught up, suddenly, with thinking about love.
She loved Kid. She knew she did. And that fact would be her undoing. She knew trouble followed her wherever she went. She had no doubt about that. She’d seen it come to pass, often enough. And not just because Mandy had her wearing dresses—or these confounded, fancy little shoes.
She still didn’t know how she should feel about all their efforts at trying to get her married. Each failed attempt only proved that it shouldn’t happen at all. Still, she felt even more determined than ever not to let anything get in her way. Not after they’d worked so hard to help her get there. After all, she wanted more than anything to marry Kid, right?
She loved him.
No, Kat thought, still watching
for Mandy. She knew love wasn’t the problem. She’d just had a lot bothering her lately. Who wouldn’t? What, with everything that had gone wrong.
Still, they’d made several attempts at getting married—all of which wound up delayed. And somewhere along the line, Kat realized—she secretly feared the marriage itself. Well, maybe not the marriage—but she definitely feared the wedding—the dresses—the measurements—and all the girly stuff that went with it.
Kat reached down off the boarded walk, with the toe of her fancy shoe, and kicked another clump of mud in her irritation.
She knew how to herd cattle. She knew how to fight. But she didn’t have the faintest clue how to look for a wedding-dress. What did that mean anyway? Was she supposed to stand there and let that woman measure her—the way she’d measured Mandy?
She couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved when something caused another delay. She just hadn’t revealed that fact to Mandy.
How could she?
Kat glanced at the door again, waiting for Mandy to come out.
Mandy had worked hard to make this come about for several months, even when that low down, no account, McCandle tried to kill Hawk—and force Mandy to marry him, even when they learned Hawk was McCandle’s long-lost, and hated, brother, and even when he tried to kill Mandy, for marrying Hawk.
And still, her friend hadn’t missed a beat in trying to work this out for Kat. But first, Kat had put it off, while Mandy grew large with her new son, not wanting their wedding to overshadow the birth of their first child. And then, it had been time to take that first herd of cattle up north to the starving Native tribes.
Kat frowned, looking away, down the streets of Cheyenne.
She hadn’t been able to think about a getting married, while they went without food in their belly.
Dark Warrior: Kid (Dark Cloth Series Book 2) Page 1
