When The Heart Beckons by Jill Gregory Read Free Book Online Page B

aura of evil radiating from them,
right down to the expression of leering hatred on their faces.
    “Who are they?” she whispered to Steele,
swallowing past the lump of fear in her throat.
    “The Hart brothers. Outlaws. Reckon they
mean to kill me.”
    “In that case, I think I’ll be going,” she
murmured, but as she took one tentative step away from him, the
taller gunman fired off a shot that scattered pebbles near her
feet.
    “Don’t neither of you move none!” he
ordered. His brother spat into the dirt and grinned at Steele.
    “Steele, you son of a bitch, I’m gonna blow
your damned head off.”
    “Or else I will!” his brother vowed.
    The gunfighter answered with a cool laugh.
“You reckon so, Les?”
    Annabel could scarcely believe her ears.
There was no mistaking the icy nonchalance in Steele’s voice.
Peeking over at him, she saw that there was no fear on his face.
Not a trace of it. Only a sneer of contempt. She drew in a deep
breath though her lungs were tight with fear. Glancing at the other
two men, her heart sank. The hatred on their faces had hardened
with his cool words and arrogant demeanor.
Steele
, she
thought and it was almost a prayer breathed in the late afternoon
stillness,
you’d better be good. Damned good
.

Chapter 4
    “Y ou kin wipe that
smug look off your face, Steele, ‘cause we got you now, and you
know it,” Mustache crowed with glee. “You knew we’d get you for
killing Jesse. Wal, your time has come. You’re going to hell where
you belong.”
    Steele kept his gaze riveted on the men, but
spoke to Annabel in a calm, offhand tone. “I’d get out of here if I
were you.”
    “H-how do you suggest I do that?”
    “Run.”
    Run. Run away and leave him there to face
these cutthroats alone. Well, why not? He certainly seemed able to
take care of himself, and he was hardly her concern. Yet Annabel
hated the idea of dashing away like a scared rabbit before these
two ugly lumps of vermin. “I never run, Mr. Steele,” she murmured,
her gaze fixed warily on the Hart brothers all the while. “It’s so
undignified ...”
    “You little fool. This isn’t a parlor game.
Run.”
    Les waved his gun. “What’re you talkin’ to
your lady friend fer? Pay attention, you low-down bastard—you’re
about to die!”
    Steele let out another low, cold laugh. The
sound of it chilled Annabel’s blood. “Does this female look like
any lady friend of mine, Les? Hell, I don’t even know this woman.
And I don’t want to. Get her out of here so the three of us can
settle this.”
    “Mebbe she’d like to watch. How ‘bout it,
little lady? You want to watch this hombre die?”
    “I’d much rather have a cup of tea at the
hotel,” she confessed, trying to smile though her lips felt like
cardboard. “And I’d like to ask your permission to go there right
now and do just that—but first I feel I must point out to you that
two against one is hardly fair odds, gentlemen. And you might not
realize this, Mr., er, Les, but you already have your gun drawn!
That’s not a typical gun duel, not at all, from everything I’ve
seen and read. Why, you’ll go to jail.”
    Mustache shoved his hat back on his head.
“Not if there ain’t no witnesses.”
    The implication of this remark made Annabel
swallow hard. “I admire you for thinking ahead,” she managed
faintly, “but perhaps you gentlemen could just discuss this first
...”
    “No more talk.” Les Hart suddenly went tense
with readiness, his eyes razoring in on Steele once more. “Steele,
you never shoulda killed our brother.”
    “We’ve been waiting a long time to git you,
and we’re not goin’ to wait a minute more,” Mustache growled. “I
jest wanted to see the look on your face and now ...”
    “Watch out! Behind you!” Annabel shouted,
her arm lifting to point and instinctively the two men jerked
around.
    At the same moment Roy Steele knocked her to
the ground.
    Then the street exploded in a thunderous,
violent