To Ride a Wylder Horse by Renee Johnson—Excerpt Day!

An excerpt from To Ride a Wylder Horse:

Essie was in no mood to allow such familiar handling. With the Derringer still in her pocket for reassurance, she snatched the Winchester she kept loaded beneath the counter for just such an occasion. Lifting it, she steadied the barrel against the cottonwood countertop. Its initial fuzziness was polished smooth with plenty of sanding and oil. “Unhand my daughter, sir, while you still got hands.”

Before he responded, the front door pushed open again. A man’s silhouette filled the held-ajar opening as he swept a glance over the scene. Backlit from the outer sunlit street, the man practically glowed. His top hat shaded his facial features, but his clothing—fine woolen trousers and coat with tails—indicated he was a man of some means. More than that, they reiterated that he was the man from the train, the one who’d raced to the street the previous morning when she’d prevented Nancy’s fall, and he’d stopped her from falsely accusing her of causing it.

Mon Dieu,” he exclaimed. “Monsieur Douglas, what have you done?”

The man’s voice echoed through the opened entryway, across the front room, and through Essie’s ears until wedging in her brain where she could make sense of his foreign-sounding accent. He was not from Wylder; that much was certain.

Essie fought the effects of his charm, cutting her eyes back to the man whose palms still rested on her daughter’s shoulders. She cocked the Winchester, readying it to shoot if forced. “Now, sir.”

 

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