Over the Edge by Mary Connealy Read Free Book Online

in the eye. Unarmed, dressed like a farmer, his eyes too sharp for an honest man. In one hard look, Seth hoped this man, whatever his business was with the parson, got the clear message that Seth Kincaid wasn’t to be taken lightly.
    Seth jerked the brim of his hat, took in the lack of a gun, even noting the man wore no coat where one could be hidden, then turned and walked away. He had an itch between his shoulder blades, but common sense told Seth a stranger without a gun wasn’t about to shoot him in the back in the middle of a busy street.
    He walked to the hotel, hoping his wife was up to heading out. Seth was eager to get shut of this town.

    Jasper slammed the door and it drew Trixie’s full attention.
    Bea, her name was Bea now. He’d thought he was getting used to calling her that, but right now it gnawed on his temper.
    “What is it, Jasper?” She’d quit doing whatever she’d done to keep her hair a vivid red. It was now a mousy dull red streaked with gray. She still had a good figure, but it was concealed in modest gingham instead of being showcased in revealing silk. She’d left her garish face paint behind. And she was still a beautiful, appealing woman.
    Jasper hadn’t been able to give up his name, so they’d compromised. He was Henry Jasper Duff, married to Beatrice, called Bea. He introduced himself as Henry Duff, but Bea at least still called him Jasper. If she hadn’t agreed to do that, Jasper felt as if he’d cease to exist.
    And he was a farmer. Not even a prosperous one. They lived on the edge of town with a few rocky patches planted to a garden or kept as grazing for their three cows. But Bea had rat-holed enough money to let them have everything they wanted, as long as they didn’t want too much.
    Jasper wanted a lot.
    “I ran into one of those Kincaid brothers and heard him talking about the Gillilands. It burns bad that they’ve got all my money while we live in this shack.”
    Bea set aside her embroidery hoop and rose, smoothing her skirt. Bea wasn’t a stupid woman.
    “We talked about this.” There was no innocent confusion that would have given Jasper a chance to calm down. “You’re free to chase after that money for the rest of your life. Break whatever laws suit you and hurt anyone, man, woman or child, who gets in your way. Staying here has always been your choice. Except—”
    “I know!” Jasper cut her off before she could give him the ultimatum again. “If I go, don’t come back.”
    And Trixie—he shook his head— Bea . His wife had all the money.
    “I know we live a good life. We’re happy.” Jasper was currently bitterly unhappy. “We gather eggs. We milk a cow.”
    “I milk a cow. I gather eggs.” Bea gave him the soft look that reminded him of how hard she was. She chose to be decent. She chose to be honest. She’d turned her back on the saloon she owned and the women who worked abovestairs, just as Jasper had turned his back on his opium trade and a dozen other criminal enterprises he ran in Houston when Wendell Gilliland had stolen his money and left him owing the wrong people.
    Jasper’s fingers itched to find his derringer and load it. Carry it in his sleeve like he used to. Demand respect like he used to.
    “I’m just—” Jasper cut himself off. “It was just running into him like that. I could have grabbed him and shaken him until he told me where my money is.”
    Except he couldn’t because one look told Jasper that Kincaid was a tough man and Jasper had been unarmed and defenseless—weak. “It burns to be a nobody in this one-horse town when I used to run a good share of the crime in Houston.”
    Jasper raised his eyes to glare at his wife, his living, breathing, bossy wife.
    “Are you trying to tell me you think that’s something to boast about? Running crime in Houston? Because it’s something to be ashamed of, Jasper, and you know it. You heard what the parson said.”
    That reined Jasper in a bit. He had no business taking his