The Wrangler by Jillian Hart

Author:Jillian Hart [Hart, Jillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: C429, Extratorrents, Kat, Historical romance, wrangler, montana, cowboy
Published: 2012-09-18T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

She clapped her hand to her mouth. Good thing no one else had noticed, or she'd never be able to play in this town again. She'd be laughed out of the saloon.

"Are ya chokin' there, Howie?" Vince pounded her on the back. "Not much of a drinker, are ya?"

"Nope, not me." If she pressed hard enough, would the mustache stay stuck? There was only one way to find out.

"That'z okay, young man." Baldy wobbled in his chair. "Ain't no shame in it. Not ever' man kin hold his licker."

"It takes yearsa practice." Skinny bobbed his head, his eyelids drooping. "Lotza hard work."

"That's it," Zeb agreed. "Here's to hard work."

"I'll drrrink to that," Baldy agreed, upending his bottle.

While the men drank, she gave her mustache a test. It seemed to be holding up. She let out a breath of relief and caught Dakota at the bar, biting his lower lip, trying not to laugh. Why did the man have to look that good? For once, the shadows had left his eyes, shadows that he'd likely never tell her about. She couldn’t imagine him opening up to her that much.

"Howie." Vince cut into her thoughts. "Aren't you gonna look at your cards?"

"What? Right." How had she let Dakota invade her mind completely? He'd blocked out every sound in the saloon and even the game in front of her. She glanced at her cards, tossed one out, tucked a new one in. It was a terrible hand. Couldn't be worse.

She dropped coins in the pot, the focus of her attention on the man at the bar. She wanted to brush away the tangle of his dark hair and see his eyes, so she could try to read him more easily. His face was hard, set tough, emphasizing the high slash of his cheekbones and the unyielding angle of his jaw. His presence radiated nobility and strength.

A longing rose within her. How foolish was that? In spite of what she knew about most men, and even with what she'd been through with her pa and all the men who'd been like him, still her heart quickened.

"Howie, are ya in or out?" Skinny interrupted. "Lookit the poor fella."

"Two swallows 'n he'z drrrunk." Baldy's bottle hit the table with a clunk. "Yer bad fer our reputation, son."

"I, uh, don't like the taste." That was true enough. She tossed in a nickel and dime.

"Thatz all right, young fella." Skinny looked at her with compassion. "We'll still be friendz with ya. As long as ya don't start drinkin' sarsaparilla."

She caught Dakota's smirk. Fine, he'd heard that, had he? Was he enjoying himself? Was she entertaining him? A spark of humor softened his proud features, making him look almost young. Emotion yanked in her chest, and she turned her attention to the game in time to toss in two quarters.

"Too rich for me," Vince commented, tossing his cards down.

"Me, too." Baldy conceded. "Look at Howie. Mussst have a great hand."

Kit shrugged. She could no longer pretend she didn't know what she felt for Dakota.

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