Hunter's Moon (Hunter Family Saga; Half-Moon Ranch 1) Read Online Free Page A

saying something for
him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had one.
He generally had no use for liquor, and, in fact, did not
allow it at the Half-Moon. He had seen firsthand the
tragedy drunkenness could cause, and he wanted no
part of it.
    But tonight was different.
    After what he'd dealt with today, Brent needed
not only a drink, but some peace and quiet, too. As
he'd neared the saloon, he'd heard the loud cheering
going on inside and realized he wasn't going to find
much peace there. He'd almost decided to go on to
another bar when he'd heard the woman singing
inside.
    Drawn into the saloon by her siren's song, Brent
wasn't quite sure what to expect. Certainly he hadn't
expected the entertainer to be anything like the
vision gracing the stage at the back of the room. The woman was beautiful. She had the voice of an
angel, and she looked like one, too.

    If she's working at the Six Gun, she's no angel, Brent
reminded himself as he made his way over to the bar.
    "Whiskey," he ordered, and he was glad when the
barkeep quickly complied. He drained the glass. The
whiskey burned all the way down, but he didn't care.
He needed the relief it would give him tonight. He
pushed the glass back for a refill.
    "Thirsty tonight?" Bill asked, trying to be friendly.
    "Yes," he answered in a curt tone he hoped would
let the bartender know he didn't want to talk.
    Brent picked up the tumbler and took another
swallow of the powerful liquor. He hoped it worked
fast. It had been a hell of a day, and what he faced
tomorrow would be even worse.
    "You new in town?"
    "Just passing through."
    "Well, enjoy your stay." Bill moved off to wait on
another customer.
    Brent was glad when the bartender had gone. The
last thing he wanted was company. He had some
serious thinking to do.
    He frowned as he thought about the meeting he'd
had at Fort Sam Houston. He'd made the trip there
to work out the details of an arrangement to sell
horses to the army.
    He'd thought they had had a deal. He'd thought
everything was settled. He'd been wrong.

    When the officer negotiating with him demanded
a "payment" to secure the transaction, Brent had
been outraged and walked out.
    He shook his head in disgust at the memory and
downed another drink.
    Money talked.
    He knew that.
    God knew, he'd just spent the past ten years
working twelve-and eighteen-hour days to make
enough money to get the ranch out of debt. He
finally had paid off the last of his father's loans and
had been counting on the army contract to put the
Half-Moon in good financial shape. But they'd
wanted a bribe-a big bribe-and he didn't have the
cash to pay it.
    Brent swore under his breath in frustration. He
looked up and found himself staring at the singer's
reflection in the mirror behind the bar. She'd
finished her song and was leaving the stage to move
about the room. The woman was mesmerizing, but
he dropped his gaze away from her.
    Beautiful though she was, Brent couldn't let
himself relax and just enjoy watching her. There was
no time in his life for fun. There hadn't been for a
very long while.
    Crystal slowly made her way toward the bar where
the stranger stood with his back to her. She wasn't
sure what it was about the man that intrigued her so,
but she meant to find out.

    Moving between the tables, she kept smiling and
flirting outrageously with her audience of admirers.
She spotted Andy Gaynor, a portly white-haired
gentleman who was every bit of seventy years old but
who came every Friday night just to hear her. She
stopped to talk with him.
    "Evening, Andy."
    "Miss Opal, you were wonderful again tonight,"
the old man praised her.
    "Why, thank you, Andy. You are so sweet." She
leaned down and kissed his weathered cheek.
    The other men at the table roared their approval.
In all the weeks she'd worked there, they'd never
seen Miss Opal kiss anybody.
    Andy blushed bright red at her rare display of
affection.
    "No, ma'am, you're