Jillian Hart Read Online Free Page A

doors. Her toe caught on the edge of that darn petticoat, and she almost tripped.
    A big strong hand curled around her elbow, steadying her. "Hello there, Miss Curtis." A voice deep enough to match that grip rumbled in her ear. "I saw you get off the stage."
    She tugged her arm free and looked up at the stranger. "And you are . . ."
    "Deputy Watson, ma'am." Solid shoulders straightened.
    Oh, hellfire. What was a lawman doing in a saloon this time of day? "Is that whiskey for medicinal purposes, deputy?"
    "Some call it that." He toasted her, then drained his shot glass. "What is a proper eastern lady doing in an establishment like this?"
    "For medicinal reasons." Really. How was she going to win the money she needed if the town deputy kept making chitchat? "Excuse me, sir."
    The lawman made no comment as she swished past him with those awkward skirts. She felt his sharp gaze on her back, hot like flaming arrows, but she ignored it. What else could she do? She ordered a whiskey to buy some time.
    As soon as the deputy left, she would join the game going on at the corner table. Then, with money in hand she could buy a horse and be on her way. That's what she wanted, right?
    Still, she couldn't help but wonder. What would it be like to live here? The town was clean and cozy, prospering and peaceful. It was the first place where she hadn't been plain old Polly Brown. Why, with these skirts and fine clothes, no one looked down at her. No one treated her as if she wasn't welcome, wasn't good enough, didn't belong.
    And it was damn nice. For the first time in a long while, she realized just how lonely she'd been–always on the outside, always on the run, always alone.
    She thought of little Emily with her unraveling braids and lace-edged dress. And wondered what it would be like to have a little girl of her own. To have a child full of smiles and merriment. To share ice cream and evenings and, when winter came, snow angels.

Chapter 3

        "Winning?"
    Polly froze. Her heart hammered in her chest. It couldn't be. It just couldn't–
    It was. She looked up. He towered over her, all fury and might. Anger tensed his solid shoulders, clenched his square jaw and radiated in those eyes that were intelligent enough to see right through her.
    "Howdy, Sheriff." She couldn't think of one explanation to offer him. Especially since the pile of greenbacks and gold pieces in front of her testified to her skill at the game.
    "You look like you know what you're doing." He pulled over a chair, all controlled power, and dropped it with a clatter. "It isn't every woman who can beat One-Eyed Tommy at poker."
    "I have a talent."
    "Then you admit it?" A muscle in his temple jumped.
    "I admit that I won some money. That's not against the law, is it?"
    "No, but against my principles."
    "You're not the one gambling." Really . She tried to tell herself she didn't care what handsome Ben MacLain thought of her, but she did. She truly did.
    She could read the disappointment in his eyes like stars in a winter sky. "Am I under arrest?"
    "Come with me." His gaze narrowed, shadowing like twilight. His big hand wrapped around her forearm and lifted her from the chair.
    He must have finally figured out who she was. Disappointment clawed through her chest, but the sadness she felt was greater. She should have known a brown sparrow couldn't dress up like a peacock. Whatever she wore, she was still plain old Polly beneath the satin and velvet, her father's daughter, no one special. She'd always been someone without a drop of luck.
    She managed to stuff her winnings into her reticule before the rock-hard lawman tore her away from the table.
    "Hold on, Sheriff," One-Eyed Tommy called out, cocking his well-polished Colt. "The lady ain't leavin' until I get a chance to win back some of my money."
    "I don't want any trouble, Tommy." Ben's voice