Bounty Hunter Proposal Read Online Free Page B

Hotel, get the finest room they had and order lunch and a bath.
    His horse, Arlo, tied to the hitching post, swished his tail. The Cypress had a livery barn, and he planned on making sure Arlo got a good rub down and a bran mash this afternoon. After riding a hundred miles in four days, the horse deserved a little extra attention.
    Normally, when he delivered a criminal, he didn’t stay in town to make sure the man got what he had coming, but he didn’t trust Sheriff Reid. The man wasn’t dishonest, but he was inept and cowardly and, if rumors were true, a drunk. Clarice had a point when she said most of the town would be more afraid of her than Sheriff Reid.
    Matt untied his horse, mounted and trotted up the road to the feed store. He tied Arlo to the hitching post. He needed some liniment for Arlo but found himself looking down at a crate with a dog and a pup. The sign said, pups for sale, but there was only the one, a tiny fellow with a patch over one eye.
    The storekeeper came over. “Sold the last one just a few minutes ago. No one wants the runt. Can’t say I blame them.”
    “You going to let him stay with his momma a little longer?”
    The man shook his head. “If I can’t sell them, I have no use for them. I’m going to do away with this one.”
    “Do away?”
    The man nodded. “I should have destroyed him when he was born, but the wife wouldn’t let me.”
    “I’ll take him.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
    The man nodded. “He’s all yours.” He reached into the crate, grabbed the pup by the scruff and lifted him. The pup yelped. Matthias took the wriggling ball of fur in his hands and peered at him. The pup stared back.
    “Shit,” he grumbled. He tucked the pup under his arm, bought the liniment and left the feed store. He shoved the bottle in his saddle bag and led Arlo to the Mercantile next door. The dog was quiet, wide eyed. Matthias didn’t have much of an opinion on dogs, but he couldn’t imagine this little dog could be too much trouble. Who the hell kills a pup, he thought with disgust.
    After he tied Arlo’s reins to the post, he strolled into the store. The pup had tucked his face against Matt’s arm either to sleep or to hide. Maybe someone at the livery would take the critter of his hands. The last damn thing he wanted was something that needed taking care of. The only responsibility he wanted was Arlo.
    He glanced around the Mercantile. For a small town it was surprisingly well stocked. There were dry goods, fabric, garden tools, a few copper tubs and franklin stoves. The smell of peppermints drew his attention. Large glass jars held brightly colored sticks of candy. He selected some saddle soap and a new pair of spurs for himself, setting them on the counter.
    “Give me some dark thread and a couple of sewing needles,” he told the shopkeeper. “A few of those peppermint sticks, too.”
    The spry, grey-haired man clad in a smock hurried to fill the order, noting the purchases on a pad and wrapping them in paper. He tied a string around the parcel.
    “That comes to two dollars and fifteen cents, Mr. Hudson.”
    Matt could feel the attention of the other customers. Usually he came and went without being recognized. The shop grew quiet. A man and wife stood at the counter beside him, and the woman’s hand flew to her throat. She let out a small gasp and then smiled timidly. Two young boys gaped, and a young woman gazed with a mixture of admiration and apprehension.
    An elderly gentleman took off his hat and nodded. “We’re lucky to have a man like you bring in Darrell Hughes. Thank you, sir.”
    A few people muttered their agreement.
    “Happy to be of service,” Matthias murmured, turning away. The pup shifted in his arms, burrowing deeper.
    “Would you like me to put that on your account?” the storekeeper asked.
    It took a moment for Matt to realize the man was addressing him. “What account?”
    The shopkeeper looked up from his pad.