“I think we’re going to have some cold ham for supper, Noah, if that’s alright with you and Mr. McQuade. It’s just too darn hot to cook today.”
Callie sat beside Noah on the buckboard seat as he easily guided the horse and wagon toward home. Not able to wear her Stetson with a dress and her hair up, the widow had succumbed to holding a parasol, frippery she usually didn’t bother to use. She tilted the yellow and white confection so that it would shade the youth’s face as well. He glanced at her under his hat, smiling.
“Ma’am, that sounds right heavenly. A heck of a lot better than what I make. You shoulda seen Mr. McQuade’s face, eatin’ my sorry oatmeal this morning! Looked like he was chewin’ a bushel full of lemons, the way his mouth was screwed up!” Noah laughed uproariously at the memory, causing Miz West to join in at just imagining what the usually stoic gunfighter looked like swallowing his lumpy breakfast.
When she was through with the giggles, Callie sobered enough to comment innocently, “I was so surprised to see Mr. McQuade in church today. He doesn’t seem like the type to revere God.” No way could she mention their late-night tete-a-tete. It hadn’t been proper for the two of them to be together last night on the porch, with her in her nightgown and him in an obvious state of undress. But the gunfighter’s attitude had needed her care; she wouldn’t change her behavior one whit. The youth just didn’t need to know.
“Well, Ma’am, I did kinda nudge him into going this morning. He looked sorta lonely, sitting at the breakfast table eatin’ that slop.” The boy grinned again at the thought of the gunfighter ingesting the lumpy oatmeal.
“I’m glad you did, Noah. That man needs some divine intervention. No one realizes what a kind soul Mr. McQuade really is.”
Noah canted a disbelieving, sideways look at the widow. Kind? That wouldn’t be how he would describe the gunslinger! Patient, smart, quiet, and fast; those were words he equated with McQuade. But, kind?—
And then the companionable atmosphere was shattered; shattered by a single gunshot from somewhere behind their wagon. It echoed down the trail toward them, startling a flock of birds out of the brush and fading immediately, interrupting all conscious thoughts.
Noah pulled up the horse instantly, tying the reins around the brake and yanking out the rifle he’d stowed down beside his left leg. Callie West did the same, grabbing her shotgun and turning in her seat to look the way they’d come.
“Get down, Miz West! Now!”
Although Callie hunched over, she still pointed her shotgun over the seat back, eyes darting left and right, the discarded parasol rolling lazily in the bed of the wagon.
“Miz Callie, I can’t protect you if you don’t listen!”
“Hush, Noah! There’re no more shots.”
Both youth and woman remained motionless, listening for sounds of hoof beats, shouts, or more shots. Nothing.
After several tense minutes, Callie and Noah looked at each other, thinking the same thing.
“Do you think it was Mr. McQuade?” The boy asked, looking back down the dirt trail as if trying to conjure the gunfighter.
Callie glanced at Noah.
“Who else could it be? Maybe he shot a rabbit, or a, a rattlesnake.”
They both knew they didn’t believe either scenario.
“That was a rifle shot, Ma’am. Mr. McQuade doesn’t carry a rifle.”
Callie nodded, and then nudged the boy.
YOU ARE READING
To Love an Outlaw (Into the West #1) (A Wattpad Reading List Choice)
Historical Fiction***A WATTPAD'S FEATURED BOOK LIST selection.*** Callie West is a widow determined to make it on her own in a man's world. Sonny McQuade is a gunfighter trying to turn over a new leaf. Will he find his new life by coming to her aid, or will one more...
