A Lady of the West Read Online Free PDF Page A

it seemed, was to be her role in life, and her duty was to fill it impeccably.
    She had been raised to be first a perfect lady and then a perfect wife, an ornament on a man’s arm and a capable mistress of his house. In her world women were gentle and graceful, charming and concerned only with a woman’s activities. A wife always deferred to her husband. She would try to be the lady she had been raised to be, try to always be gracious and proper. She knew nothing else she could do; there was no backing out, so she might as well make the best of it. Many women had married men they didn’t love and led fulfilled lives; Victoria was certain she could do the same.
    But when she thought of the coming night, she couldn’t stop shivering.
    Will Garnet couldn’t get the little blonde out of his mind. Her glowing face was perfect, and he bet herbreasts would be nice and round, instead of drooping like Angelina’s. Hell, Angelina would lie down for any two-bit saddle tramp who had the price, so there wasn’t anything special about her. Now, that little blonde … she was a virgin for sure, she had that look about her. Garnet wanted to be the first. He wanted to see that beautiful little face when she got it for the first time; he bet she’d like it, after she got used to it some. Not like her cold stick of a sister. The boss wouldn’t be getting anything in his bed except a poker.
    Garnet cast a sidelong glance at Roper, who was sitting at the table in the bunkhouse. He didn’t have much use for the man, and he knew the feeling was likewise, but they would both be at the wedding. Boss’s orders, just to make certain no trouble interrupted the ceremony. Garnet grunted and spoke to the gunhand. “The boss’s woman ain’t much, is she? But, damn, that little sister sure makes up for her.”
    Roper was cleaning and oiling his big.44s, and never looked up.
    Familiar anger rose in Garnet. If Roper wasn’t so damned fast with those guns, he’d have kicked his ass a long time ago. But nobody pushed Roper, not even the Major. If it had just been that, a bullet in the back would have taken care of him. The thing was, any back-shooter would have to make
damn
certain Roper was dead, and most of the men thought Roper wouldn’t go down that easy. He’d only been on the ranch a few months, and they still didn’t know much about him, other than he was damn good with horses, snake-quick with a gun, and as cold-blooded and deadly as a rattler. It was in his eyes, those cold, clear, emotionless eyes.
    Roper never let his guard down. Even now, while he was cleaning his .44s, he only unloaded one at the time. Nor were they his only weapons; a big Bowie knife, all fourteen inches of it, rode in a scabbard at his left kidney, and another knife, this one thin and balanced for throwing, was in his right boot. Thosewere the only ones Garnet knew about; he figured the gunslick had at least one more hidden somewhere on his body.
    But what really made the men wary of Roper was the way he’d killed Charlie Guest a couple of months back. Guest had always had more mouth than sense and was a bad-tempered bully on his good days, so Garnet really didn’t give a damn that Roper had killed him. It was the way he’d done it. Guest had taken a dislike to Roper and started mouthing off at him, and got even madder when the gunhand had ignored him the way he was doing Garnet now. Then Guest had made the mistake of going for his gun. He’d never made it. Before he could even clear leather, Roper had been on him, moving so lightning fast that Garnet still wasn’t quite sure what had happened.
    Roper had dropped Guest to the bunkhouse floor and planted a knee in his back. He’d hooked his left arm around Guest’s neck and pushed on the man’s head with his right hand. They’d all heard Guest’s neck pop like a chicken’s. Without even breaking a sweat,