Shotgun Bride Read Online Free

their bed?
    Mike shook that disturbing thought away. No, Sally followed the much stricter social dictates of the high society she was raised in, where public displays of affection were frowned on. By the time he returned, she’d be settled into the easy ways of ranch life and welcome him warmly.
    “Your dire predictions made me thirsty. Want to go grab a beer?”
    “Can’t, son. Too much left to do around here. Drink one for me.”
    Mike grinned. “I’ll think of you hard at work while I enjoy that second beer.” He pivoted and left Herman grumbling at the disrespect of youngsters as he stepped outside and lowered the rim of his hat against the evening’s last rays of sun.
    The mass of humanity had thinned some since the crowd had time to disperse to their destinations. He blew out a breath as he strode toward the saloon, disgruntled at the doubts and questions Herman’s conversation raised.
    He needed that beer. Needed to get home to his ranch. Needed to return to his routine, marry Sally, and get on with his life. Not question his neatly laid out plans or fancy a pair of rosy lips, green eyes, and auburn hair.
    Safely ensconced in her room, Kathleen took stock of her situation and steered her wayward thoughts away from the tall stranger. Seated at the window, she stared blankly at the parade of people passing by. The curtains, crisp, clean, and smelling of soap, fluttered gently in the soft breeze whispering through the window.
    The simple room reeked luxury after her dilapidated apartment in New York City. The padded chair, covered in burgundy brocade, reminded her of her mother’s favorite chair. Smiling, Kathleen traced a finger over the worn material and dingy, embroidered flowers. Her mother had sat for hours in that chair, teaching her everything she knew on crafting unique garments.
    Kathleen punched the cushion. In her trusting naivety, she had allowed Mr. Sharp to steal her creations. For the first year anyhow. After that, she ceased giving him ideas. She slapped the windowsill. It had taken her long enough. She lifted her face heavenward and shut her eyes. Did her parents look on? Would they be proud of her? Would her mother understand her failure to achieve success in her career? Lower lip sucked between her teeth, she hoped so.
    Kathleen slipped the money from her bodice and counted it. Dismayed, she stuffed it into her reticule and yanked the strings tight. A frown pulled at her lips as she plucked at a recent patch on her faded brown skirt. A new blue skirt, that’s what she wanted. Blue as the Arizona sky on a cold winter day. She tugged at her earlobe. Was she doing the right thing? Would she find success, happiness?
    Just because she owned a ranch didn’t mean she had any way to make money. The will said nothing about the condition of the house nor mentioned the existence of cattle. The one hope she clung to was the possibility the man who wanted to buy her land may be willing to lease it instead. Otherwise she didn’t have any idea what she’d do. She could always sew, but she suspected the market didn’t demand much out here. Stupid of her to get rid of the job she had in a wild dash to freedom. The last time she ran, things hadn’t worked out so well.
    Kathleen blew out a ragged breath and slumped into the chair. She should have taken the time to gather information and search options prior to quitting her only means of support. Too late for that now. She searched her mind, trying to recall the name of the man Mr. Turner had mentioned.
    Out of nowhere, liquid pools of dark fire flashed in her vision and a strange, unfamiliar tingle raced up her spine. “Ugh.” She slapped her hands over her face. Why did that blasted stranger keep popping in her mind, making her heart race and flutters to crawl around her belly?
    She frowned. Had she lost her sanity? Men were untrustworthy and trouble. But what a solid rock of a man that set her aflame with desires she’d never previously entertained. Or