Heritage And Honor

Chapter 1-2

Jesse held Charley’s wrist. She tried to tug it away. He tightened his grip, sending stitches of pain up her arm. “Let go of me.”

“You always were purdy when you were mad,” Jesse said with a crooked grin. He bent his head closer. She twisted and pulled her wrist free.

Charley moved back a step, rubbing her throbbing right wrist. A man suddenly appeared beside her.

“I don’t think the lady wants your attention.” The stranger’s deep voice filled the saloon.

Charley looked at the stranger’s profile. It was the cowboy from the corner table. His hat still sat low on his head, and sandy-blond hair peeked out from beneath the back. He stood tall. Taller than her, and taller than Jesse.

“This ain’t none of your business, mister.” Jesse took a step forward.

Charley heard a click. The stranger held a g*n. She hadn’t even seen his arm move.

“I’m making it my business. Now leave.” His tone unyielding as he aimed the revolver at Jesse’s chest.

Charley watched the play of emotion on Jesse’s face. He didn’t want to heed the stranger’s warning. He looked at her, his eyes sparking like flint on steel. He wanted to fight with her some more. She held her breath. Jesse had always taken too many chances. Didn’t seem like he’d changed one bit in five years.

Jesse pointed at her. “This ain’t over, Charley.” He turned and walked out of the saloon.

The stranger holstered his g*n and bent down to retrieve her hat. He handed it to her and tipped the brim of his tan hat. “Ma’am, I think this belongs to you.”

Charley took her hat and looked up into his face. She felt the pulse of her heart in her veins. “Oh, um. Yes. Thank you.”

She could see the color of his eyes now. And truth be told, she’d never seen that shade of green before; lush as a morning’s meadow, yet as inflexible as a cold branding iron. His long, thin nose sat above defined lips set in a stern line.

“None of that was necessary,” she said.

“Well, ma’am, from my perspective, it was. I always help a lady in need.” His gaze took an unhurried stroll down her body, lingering on her legs, then back up to her face. “Although with those trousers, I’m only assuming you’re a lady.”

Charley’s stomach tightened. “I didn’t ask for your assistance, mister. And I certainly didn’t ask for your opinion of my character.”

He laughed, the sound coming from deep within his chest. “Listen, I didn’t come here for trouble, although I ended up finding some. Why don’t you run along? Cuz like I said, I’m assuming you’re a lady, and ladies don’t belong in saloons unless they're working girls.”

Did he just compare her to a saloon girl? The jackass. She whacked her hat against her thigh. “You wouldn’t know a la—”

“Miss Charley?” Fred scooted out from behind the bar and stood next to her.

Charley looked at the stranger, then to Fred and back again. She let out a loud sigh. “Dammit.” Fred hated fights in his place. Something always got broken and needed fixin’. She didn’t want to be the cause of any hardship for him. Even though she could pay for damages, she couldn’t pay for Fred’s mental comfort.

Charley grabbed her gloves and placed her Stetson on her head. “This isn’t over.” She waved her gloves at the stranger’s face. “If I ever see you again, and you stick your nose in my business, you’ll be sorry.” She patted Fred’s shoulder and marched out of the saloon.