Buffalo Creek,
South Dakota
1895
Hot, dry air scorched the prairie grass. Sweat slid along his spine. Danger clung to every whisper;
seemed to swirl and grow with each passing second. Ivan Civanovich watched the woman below. With deadly purpose, he studied the lady
who had hired him--the woman who had bought his gun and perhaps death.
"Reckless courage," Ivan mused.
"Si Senor, she does have what
you call a great courage, but I don’t know about the reckless part. She is always so very careful," Pedro said.
"I’m a dangerous man,
Pedro."
"This is why she hired you."
"The lady has no business hiring men like me. She’s a woman. She is supposed to nurture lives."
"She
needs you to keep the bad men from taking the land away--our home," Pedro said.
Ivan pushed the tip of his hat back from his brows.
From his vantage point, he considered the woman while she hung the freshly laundered white sheets on the line. A strange shudder swept
through him, his muscles tensing with the sudden feeling he knew this woman, had known her forever. The sensations were too strong,
the feelings too acute, and it troubled him because knowing her was impossible.
Her hair, a wild mop of red curls, battled with the
stiff, hot wind rising off the prairie. The breeze and her hair flowed in undulating currents between the lines, threatening to tangle
themselves in the wire. She bent over at the waist, giving him a perfect view of her backside while she toyed with something on the
ground. Seconds later she picked up the object of her curiosity, turned it over in her hands then tossed it aside.
He didn’t like to
think about what could happen to her in the next few weeks. She’d advertised for a gun for a hire. She didn’t know what she bargained
for, and he’d bet his inheritance she didn’t have any idea what kind of trouble she’d purchased.
When she looked up the hill, his
grin widened. She couldn’t see him, but her shoulders tensed and she sucked air. Her hand touched her forehead, shielding her eyes
from the blinding sunlight. She scanned the horizon, turning a complete circle before she stopped.
"Good," he said, "she is cautious."