Shotgun Bride by Linda Lael Miller Read Free Book Online

throat and shifted from one foot to the other before finally getting herself situated someplace in the middle.
    “Good evening, God,” she said. “This is Sister Amanda Rose talking. We—we’ve had a dandy time here tonight, and we’re grateful. There was plenty of food and the music was tolerable. We’d appreciate it if You’d look out for all of us, but especially for Mrs. McKettrick and the babe she’s carrying.” Sister Mandy opened her eyes, caught Kade watching her, and squeezed them shut again. Her right temple throbbed. “Much obliged, Lord,” she added as a seeming afterthought. “And amen.”
    “Amen,” Emmeline and Concepcion chorused.
    “Amen,” echoed Jeb, Angus, Rafe, and Kade in gruff unison and a beat late.
    “Now,” said Mandy, with a that’s-done motion of her shoulders, “I’d better get those dishes washed.” At that, she turned on one heel and hustled off to the kitchen.
    Kade tried to go after her, but Concepcion moved to block his path and elbowed him in the ribs for good measure.
    Angus was already at the door, and Rafe stood by Emmeline’s chair, holding her hand. Their fingers were interlaced. No doubt they would do some private celebrating once they were alone.
    “Come along, woman,” Angus said to Concepcion, who had driven him across the creek in a buckboard before supper. “It’s late.”
    Kade cataloged the oddness of the remark with the other ragtag impressions he’d been storing up since his return from Tombstone, and promised himself that he’d unravel it all later. In the meantime, he got his coat and hat and followed Concepcion and Angus outside.
    He offered Concepcion his arm when she went to climb up into the box of the wagon, and she shrugged it off and favored him with another scorching look. A moment later, she and Angus were rattling down the rocky bank toward the shallow place in the creek.
    Jeb stood beside Kade, the reins of his horse in hand, watching as the pair made the crossing and trundled up the opposite side, wagon bed dripping, headed for the barn.
    “That was a dirty trick, making Sister Mandy offer up a prayer in front of us all the way you did,” Jeb drawled. He was holding a matchstick between his teeth, and he shifted it to the other side of his mouth. “Wish I’d thought of it first.”

Chapter 8
     
     
    G ig Curry smiled to himself as he watched the homesteaders rushing hither and yon, trying to put out their blazing cowshed. Might as well stir things up a little, he’d thought, while he worked out his plans. He meant to conduct some business with the railroad, and with the McKettricks, too, now that the old gang had come together again, but he wouldn’t have a peaceful mind until he knew where Cree Lathrop was.
    Under a headstone someplace, he hoped. Should have killed that ornery little half-breed when he had the chance; now, if he didn’t track him down and deal with him, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the tasks at hand for looking over his shoulder all the time.
    Curry shifted in his saddle and spat. He could feel the heat of the fire on his face, but he was hidden in a copse of oak trees, so he was in no hurry to ride on. He’d stay awhile and enjoy the spectacle while he ruminated on how to proceed. The stakes were big, and Dixie’s boy was a wild card, a spoiler.
    One thing would draw Lathrop out of the brush for sure, though, and that was Mandy. They were cozy, those two, and while Cree would cut a man’s throat as soon as look at him, he’d go to hell and back for that lying, thieving little hoyden.
    Sister Mandy. He chuckled and shook his head. He’d have to ask her where she’d gotten that getup, next time they crossed paths.
    Meanwhile, the entertainment at hand was getting good. The homesteader’s woman, a bony little snippet in calico and work boots, shrieked something at the man when the flames caught the dry grass and started racing toward the cabin. The sodbuster had his hands full, tending a