Wanted: Dead or Alive by Faye Byrd

Author:Faye Byrd [Byrd, Faye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B0719KL9XT
Goodreads: 35187086
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2017-05-21T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

The Robbers

JOSIE

After I give that no good harlot a look that lets her know just whose man she’s fooling with, I give Nathan his Colt back and make my way to the very back row next to the car’s door. “Excuse me, sir,” I say real polite like. “I’m gone need you to move up to my empty seat.”

The eyes of the woman beside him go wide and she rushes to stand, obeying me almost immediately, while the man remains in his seat. I lift a brow. “I ask ya nicely, sir. Now don’t make me ask ya not so nicely,” I say just as polite, but the look on my face and the shift of my gun say I mean business.

He gasps at my inference, but stands next to the woman, who I assume is his wife. With his haughty chin held high, he takes her arm and leads her past me and up to the seat I was sitting in before.

I watch ‘em go with a smirk on my face, and just before I take my seat, I catch Nathan watching me with a sparkle of pride in his eyes. I tilt my head and situate myself, looking like any other proper lady on the train, my double barrel discreetly hidden beside me.

My outlaw’s eyes scan from me over the rest of the passengers. “Listen up,” he calls to the already silent crowd. “There’s men out there who want what ya got. All ya riches, and it’s my job to make sure they don’t get ‘em. I need every one of ya to stay low in ya seat and let me and my cowgirl handle this. Maybe we can all get out of here alive.”

“Ain’t ya the Outlaw Nathan King?” someone asks from the crowd.

Nathan plants his eyes on the person and gives one firm nod. “I am. But things ain’t always as they seem. I’m here to help if ya let me. As I said, maybe we can all live, and you can keep ya pretty baubles.”

A loud bump on the side of the train makes all eyes turn that way. Nathan tenses and props his hands on his Colts, his ears in tune with every noise coming from outside the car we’re in. When a thump comes from the doors right behind me, I try to act as scared as every other passenger.

Nathan casually props himself against the very first seat and waits. The tension is thick in the car as we all hear the sounds and await the entrance of the men. Suddenly, the door slides open. I don’t even look; afraid they may see the anger boiling in my veins.

One, two, three men pass me in an attempt to cover all the passengers. “Hands up, everybody,” one of them yells, swinging his pistol ‘round. “This here’s a holdup.”

Some of the passengers freeze and gasp while others turn their eyes on Nathan expectantly. One of the robbers follows their line of sight and stops short.

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