The Gunslinger’s Untamed Bride Read Online Free Page A

world. And knowing I own it. ”
    “Be sure they put that on our matching headstones.” Reginald stepped beside her, his frown firmly in place.
    “How can you look at such beauty with a scowl?”
    “Perhaps you should glance behind you, sweets.”
    Lily turned, glancing past the carriage, and her good spirits plummeted. What a complete and utter mess.
    Pine Ridge appeared to be no more than a maze of logs, piles of planks, and poles with cables strung in all directions. Splintered wood and shavings littered the rutted ground. For all the piles of planks and logs, the dozen or so small cabins spaced across the yard seemed rather flimsily constructed, pieced together of mismatched boards and spare wood.
    Aside from thin trails of smoke rising from stovepipes on two of the cabins, the cluttered camp appeared to be abandoned.
    “Oh, my.”
    “Hmm. I’ll be expecting that apology by the end of the day.”
    “Did they know we were coming, Miss Carrington?” asked Mr. Dobbs.
    “No.” She drew a deep breath and went to stand with her men. “I didn’t think it wise to announce our arrival while carrying such delicate cargo.”
    Dobbs nodded in agreement.
    A screeching whine echoed from downstream.
    “The mill seems to be running,” she said, unable to see beyond the bend in the river and a thicket of pines. “Shall we make our way through the camp?”
    Brown and Johnson each lifted an end of the lockbox holding the payroll. Mr. Allen gripped the handles of three leather cases containing their ledgers and accounting files.
    “What should I do with the luggage?” asked the driver, standing near his team of horses. Their trunks were still strapped to the top of the carriage.
    “Leave them for now,” she said, setting off across the grounds. “And wait here for us.” If no one was around to collect their pay, they may indeed be traveling back to the valley as Regi had hoped.
    Lily carefully picked her way across the rutted dirt, stepping over splintered wood and chunks of tree bark. The scent of freshly baked bread grew strong as they passed a few cabins, none of them appearing to be more than common living quarters. The distant sound of a cow echoed across the yard, along with the cluck of chickens—all good signs of inhabitants.
    The squeak of hinges drew them to a stop. A man stepped out from one of the ramshackle cabins to their right. His hat hid all but the shaggy brown beard of his face as he fumbled with the closure of his trousers. His other hand gripped an ax. Finished with his pants, he tucked his hands and the ax through red suspenders, then froze at the sight of them.
    “Good afternoon,” said Dobbs.
    The lumberjack quickly shrugged his suspenders into place, his hand taking a rather firm hold on his ax.
    Dobbs stepped in front of Lily, blocking her view. “Who’s in charge of this camp?” he asked.
    “You the new owner who’s holdin’ our pay?”
    “I’m a representative of L. P. Carrington,” he answered as Lily moved beside him.
    “I wouldn’t be shouting that to the treetops,” the man advised. “Ever since that ’Frisco bigwig put the stop on our pay, Sheriff’s been a mite busy. He’ll be wanting to see you when he returns.”
    “A sheriff?” Lily glanced at Reginald.
    Regi shrugged his shoulders as Dobbs continued his inquiry.
    “Where do I find the man in charge here?”
    The lumberjack scratched at his whiskery jaw. “Depends on where you’re standin’ and the time of day. Bein’ that it’s noon, Cook’s in charge. Elsewise, Grimshaw runs the mill and assigns the bullheads. The Swede carries some weight, but he mostly brings down the heavy for the sheriff.”
    Lily wasn’t sure the man was speaking English, having understood very little of what he’d said. “Where is the sheriff?” she asked.
    “Ma’am,” he said, quickly pulling off his battered hat. “Ruckus on the mountain.” He motioned his ax toward the rise of trees beyond the river. “I suppose