“Now, Venice,” Noble said soothingly as he struggled to hold on to her.
“Don’t let her go, McCaneaghy.” Apparently, Cassius had decided that Venice wasn’t a ghost after all. He was groping his way backward, his face twitching with various emotions, mostly fear. Looking down at the hissing, arm-swinging, leg-thrashing woman at his side, Noble could almost sympathize.
Suddenly one of Venice’s boots made contact with Noble’s shin. Bellowing, he loosened his grip. Immediately, she took advantage, scrambling free and dropping to her hands and knees on the sidewalk. Her hair, having tumbled loose during her struggle, streamed over her face. She crouched for a second, feral and intent, like a she-cat about to spring.
Cassius took one look at the enraged thing in front of him and jumped back. Too late. Venice uncoiled, hurling herself at him.
“Don’t you ever, ever try to hurt Noble again!” she shouted, and swung straight from the shoulder in a magnificent roundhouse punch. Her fist slammed into Cassius’s face. For a second he teetered, a comical expression of incredulity stamped on his face. Then he collapsed.
Immediately, Venice started dancing around, frantically shaking her hand and yipping, “Ow! Ow! Ow!”
“Satisfied?” Noble asked.
Grimacing, Venice looked down at the unconscious man at her feet. She nudged Cassius’s body with her toe. It didn’t look like she was being too gentle about it, either. She looked up and, without the least trace of sheepishness, grinned at Noble. “Only if his jaw’s broken,” she declared unrepentantly.
She was completely irresistible. In an instant, Noble was before her, pulling her into his arms. Lifting her high against his chest, he held her in a tight embrace and bent close, smiling. His lips were a hair breadth from hers and closing fast when she heard him whisper, laughter threading his voice, “My hero!”
Author’s Note
Much of the enjoyment I get from writing romances come from weaving fact into fiction. While researching Anything for Love, I read anecdotes, diaries, and various accounts of daily life that were often as entertaining and outlandish as anything I could invent. So I used them. While Reverend Niss and the Grundys are fictional characters, the “revival meeting” and “prehistoric man” have their basis in fact. Were I to follow history further, the Grundys would end up displaying their “fossil” at the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia in 1876 and Reverend Niss would be jailed in Chicago shortly thereafter.
Dinosaur bones were not actually discovered in Colorado until 1878, and then they were found far west of the site where I place Milton and Carter. But perhaps there are others still waiting in some deep rock fold . . .
And finally, the Yellowstone National Park was created by an Act of Congress in 1873 upon the recommendation of people committed to ensuring future generations a part of our natural heritage.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Connie Brockway Page 33
