The Fall of Rome Read Online Free PDF Page B

With the exception of numerous dime-novel sketches, she hadn’t seen him in years. Coincidence?
    Breathless, she scanned the area for Rome as the two were typically attached at the hip. She’d invested an awful lot of energy trying to remember how she’d betrayed him and trying to forget how he’d forsaken her. She could handle the days. It was the nights, the dreams of what had been, what was, what could never be, that tortured her soul. Even though Rome had broken her heart, she’d clung to the best parts of him. If she were ever to get on with her life in the romantic sense, she needed to let go of fairy-tale expectations. The newspaper article touting his scandalous fall from grace had damn near done the trick. Maybe seeing him in person would cinch the deal. Only the man was conspicuously absent.
    Dizzy with relief and disappointment, she palmed her forehead.
    The taller man steadied her.
    “I’m fine.” Because she had long ago mastered her poker face, he believed her.
    He removed his hat, revealing a head of barbered blond hair. He was handsome in a quiet way, gentler in manner than Boston. “You’re Katrina Simmons?”
    He looked so incredulous, she almost laughed. “Unfortunately.”
    “Athens Garrett,” he said, remembering his manners. He offered his hand again, this time in greeting.
    This time she took it, mostly to convince herself that these two were real and not figments of her crawl down memory lane. They were real all right. “The politician of the family,” she noted, fighting to keep calm. The only Garrett brother she’d never met, and now here they were in the middle of nowhere--face to face. Fate, her mind whispered as dread iced down her spine.
    “Former politician,” he said while surveying the area. Wasn’t a whole lot to see beyond the blue sky and wide open spaces, but he surely took his time. ‘You riding alone, Miss Simmons?”
    “Obviously.”
    “Convenient.”
    “How so?”
    “We were riding for Casa Bend in regards to your telegram.” He fingered the brim of his hat, studied her with kind green eyes. “Given the sensitive nature of the subject, the more privacy, the better.”
    Thrown for a loop, she dabbed the back of her hand to her moist brow. “Are you saying you’re the bounty hunters I was told to expect?”
    “Yes and no.”
    “Meaning?”
    “The bounty hunter portion’s a cover.”
    She stood riveted as he explained that he was the director of a new government agency. Her throat constricted when he stated the agency’s overall mission. If they intended to tame the West by tricking and trapping elusive outlaws, then surely a man as menacing as Bulls-Eye Brady was at the top of their list. Were the Peacemakers her and Frankie’s salvation? Were her days of running and hiding numbered?
    “I assume you heard about Brady’s latest train robbery,” Athens said.
    She curled her fingernails into her palms. “Read about it in the Arizona Weekly Citizen .” Unlike the article on Rome, she’d had no desire to read the awful report more than once. This time a woman had died. A woman who’d stood up to Brady. She’d mourned Victoria Barrow’s death. She’d also spent sleepless nights worrying that the incident had happened near Yuma. She’d worried that Brady was headed deeper into the Territory, closer to Casa Bend. Were the Peacemakers on Brady’s tail?
    “I heard he rode for Kansas,” she said. Barroom gossip. Wishful thinking.
    Athens shook his head. “We think he’s holed up in the region.”
    She crossed her arms over her roiling stomach, breathed deep. Various scents teased her nostrils. The smell of horses ridden hard. The smell of the swollen river. The smell of confidence--the Garretts. The smell of fear--hers. They filtered through her system, reminding her this bizarre moment was real. “I haven’t been with Brady for several years.”
    “We know you headed east, then essentially dropped out of sight,” Athens said.
    “Brady and I