Love Finds You in Tombstone, Arizona by Miralee Ferrell Read Free Book Online Page A

Looked like plenty of places he could hang his hat. First stop would be the livery where he’d put up his horse. Nevada’s thoughts slipped back to the woman he’d helped. He’d loved to have skinned those varmints who held up the stage, but the last thing he wanted was another shooting laid at his door.
    His mind drifted to Albuquerque and the grisly scene that played out with Logan Malone lying dead in the street. How many times in the past had he wished things had turned out different? Right now all he wanted was a new occupation—one that didn’t include gunplay. He’d stashed enough money to purchase a small ranch, if he found one that suited him. This might be a good area to start checking. Riding herd on cattle for other men had lost its fascination years ago. He was sick of traveling from town to town and never knowing where he’d sleep.
    A shout up the street caused Nevada to turn in the saddle. He’d wondered how long the stage would take to arrive. No need to question any longer, as the driver smacked the lines against the horses’ backs and cantered them up the road. A billow of powder rose from its wheels. People cleared a path when it slowed at the business district and finally halted less than half a block away. He leaned his hands on the pommel. Maybe he’d get a glimpse of the lady with the injured arm. His heart rate accelerated, remembering the perfectly shaped lips, lovely voice, and pleasing figure.
    A crowd gathered around the coach, partially obscuring his view. He nudged his gelding with his heel, urging him forward. Nevada’s elevated position allowed him to scrutinize the scene. A sudden thought checked his forward progress and he reined to a halt, his mouth going dry. The woman from the stage was the only one other than the robbers who’d seen him. She’d promised to guard his identity, but what did he know of her? Nothing. If she saw him sitting nearby she could easily point him out and call for the law. Nevada tugged his hat low over his eyes and dropped his head an inch or two. No sense in taking chances, but he’d be hanged if he’d walk away without getting a glimpse of her.
    “We’re in Tombstone, folks.” The driver stood up and pointed his whip at a young man standing nearby. “Hey, you boy.”
    “Yes, sir?” The lad wore an expectant look.
    “Run and get the marshal. We’ve been robbed again, and we’ve got an injured lady onboard this time.”
    The boy took off running. No one on the street seemed overly concerned with the announcement, but curious faces peered into the stage.
    The driver laid aside his whip and wound the reins around the brake, then clambered from his seat to the ground. “Ma’am, I sent for the marshal, and we’ll have the doc look at your arm if you’ll sit tight for a few minutes.”
    Nevada’s gut clenched and he reined his horse back, stopping in the shadow of a store. He didn’t care to have anyone from the stage recognize his clothing.
    The coach driver pointed a hand to a nearby building. “That there is the Grand Hotel, and the Golden Eagle Brewery is across yonder. You folks can sleep, eat, or drink, whatever your pleasure might be. Now get yer gear and hop on out.”
    Two other men shimmied over the side and the first one reached the door, swinging it open. The man and his woman companion disembarked, then the gent with the bowler hat, another portly gentleman, and lastly the woman with his bandana wrapped around her arm, the veil still covering her face.
    A whoop went up from the crowd. A miner jumped forward and threw his arm wide. The bowler hat went flying into the dust, landing at the feet of a nearby laborer. He gave it a kick, sending it on to the next pair of boots, who sent it along to the next.
    The stunned city slicker stared as his prized headpiece bounced down the Tombstone street. Catcalls and hoots of laughter filled the air. “Hey. Stop that, do you hear? I paid good money for that hat.”
    A man wearing a