The Gunslinger Read Online Free PDF Page A

his breath wafting over her cheek as he neared.
    Thundering footsteps resounded through the house mere seconds before Toby burst into the room. “Riders are comin’!”
    Tenseness rippled through Wilder as he pierced her with his narrowed, suspicious gaze. She shook her head, knowing by his guarded expression what he was thinking. “I didn’t tell anyone you were hurt.”
    He snapped his attention to Toby. “How many?”
    â€œThey’re workin’ up a cloud of dust. I couldn’t count ’em.”
    Chance released her, withdrew his gun with the hand that had just caressed her cheek, checked the bullets, and slipped it back into his holster. He grabbed his duster, grimacing as he maneuvered into it. He settled his hat low over his brow. “You and the boy stay inside. If bullets start to fly, take cover.”
    â€œNot every person is a threat.”
    â€œIf I’m wrong, then you can invite them in for tea,” he growled as he stalked from the room. She heard the front door slam in his wake.
    â€œI don’t think he’s wrong, Lil,” Toby said.
    She slipped her arm around him. “You stay here. I’m going into the front room so I can see what’s happening.” As quietly as possible she left her bedroom, crept to the window that overlooked the porch, eased the blue gingham curtains aside and peered out. Wilder stood on the front porch, one hip cocked, his duster pulled back to reveal his gun. The riders drew their horses to a halt. One man urged his mount forward.
    â€œAre you Chance Wilder?”
    â€œYep.” Wilder pulled a matchstick from his pocket and wedged it between his teeth.
    â€œThey say you always work for the man with the best offer.”
    â€œThat’s what they say,” Wilder replied.
    â€œMr. Ward wants to see you up at his house.”
    Wilder withdrew the match from his mouth and pointed toward the corral. “I’d be obliged if one of your men would saddle my horse. It’s the dun-colored beauty.”
    Lillian sank to the floor, her heart thundering. She could think of only one reason why John Ward would seek an audience with Chance Wilder. He wanted to hire the man, and she knew he’d offer Wilder more than a harmonica, a bent coin, and a length of string.
    C HANCE’ S SPURS JANGLED as he followed John Ward’s foreman through the sprawling ranch house to a room decorated with cow skulls and horns. A man in his mid-thirties glanced up from his chair behind a large oak desk. “Come in, Mr. Wilder, and have a seat.”
    Ignoring the chair set in front of the desk, Chance ambled to a leather chair that rested against the wall. He sat and casually crossed his foot over his knee, studying the man who was studying him. John Ward looked as though he’d earned his place in the world.
    â€œYou’re dismissed,” he said to the foreman without taking his gaze off Chance. The foreman backed out of the room and closed the door behind him.
    â€œYou were supposed to meet with me this afternoon,” Ward said.
    â€œHad something else to do.”
    A muscle twitched in Ward’s jaw. “Wade Armstrong worked for me.” He leaned forward. “I thought you did, too.”
    â€œI got a better offer.”
    Ward narrowed his blue eyes and set his mouth into a grim line. “I don’t take kindly to being betrayed. You and I had an understanding.”
    â€œI never commit myself to an offer until I get a lay of the land and a feel for the stakes involved. I spent two days riding your land. I can’t see that it’s hurting you not to have that little patch the woman’s living on.”
    â€œHow in the hell do you think my mother feels knowing that her husband died in his whore’s bed?”
    Chance’s stomach knotted. Jack Ward had died in Lillian’s bed, in her arms? Something akin to jealousy shot through him at the thought. He knew what she