A Cowboy's Promise By: Linda Ford

Chapter 2

Lizzie didn't know who the tall, dark stranger was. Nor if he was ultimately bad news. But unless the Good Lord gave her the strength to act quickly, he was about to die. 

Emma thankfully escaped Stook's clutches and scurried back to Pa as the two rowdies remained intent on the stranger for the moment. It was all she needed. Lizzie made one quick movement. 

"All right. Put your gun down." She leveled a shotgun at Joe, whose eyes fair bugged out of his head when he turned to stare at her. "Don't think I won't use this because I have in the past." Once. When she'd shot a wild dog she feared would attack Emma. But she would use it against this pair if push came to shove. 

Joe swallowed hard and gaped at her. 

"Best do as the lady says," the stranger drawled. "Pretty sure she means business." 

"And if you don't think so, you better reconsider." Pa, his voice surprisingly strong, suddenly stood at her side, a pistol in his hands. 

Lizzie didn't shift a fraction, but out of the corner of her eyes she noted it took both hands for Pa to hold the gun steady. 

Joe slid his firearm to the counter and backed away, his hands above his head. Stook shuffled at his side, a look on his face of pure disgust. 

The stranger held the door for them and let it hit their heels on the way out. "If that don't beat all." He roared with laughter. 

My, but the man had a rolling, gut-pleasing way of laughing. It made her want to join in his amusement. Made her feel all sweet and pleased. Their gazes connected with a great jolt of something she didn't recognize, couldn't name, and yet it echoed with dreams she only allowed herself late at night. 

Pa still held his gun level. "You, too, mister." 

She tore her attention from the man causing her heart to dip strangely. "No, Pa. He wasn't with them." 

"How can you be sure? Identify yourself, stranger." 

"Holt Perry, sir. I just happened by. Needing some supplies." He regarded Pa, letting the older man assess him. 

Lizzie wondered what Pa saw. A tall, lean man with eyes like warm campfire coffee? Eyes that seemed to blare caution and humor at the same time. Did he notice the man's hands? So big and strong. The kind that would control wild horses just as skillfully as sweep a woman off her feet. 

If a woman were so inclined, which she wasn't. She was committed to being mother to Emma and helper to her father. 

"Where you hail from, Holt Perry?" Pa was clearly not about to take the man at face value. 

"No place in particular." 

"Then where you be going?" 

"North. Thought I'd try life in Canada." 

Pa grunted. "Sounds like a man running from something." 

Holt Perry didn't answer. 

Pa lowered the gun, let it hang from his right hand. "Lizzie, fill the man's order so he can be on his way." 

"Yes, Pa." 

She stuck the shotgun behind the counter just as Pa moaned and crashed to the floor.