Final Shot for Retribution (Preview)

Chapter One

New Springs, Louisiana, 1870

“Where is she?” Grace called the second she brought her Morgan horse to a stop. Her twin sister pulled up beside her just as sharply, and her mustang whinnied loudly at the sudden change.

The familiar face of Kasper Easley appeared at the front door of the ranch house, his expression dark.

“Kitchen,” he replied simply before turning on his heel and walking back inside.

“Betsy,” Grace looked to her sister as they both jumped down from their horses and tied the reins to the nearest post, “you don’t think she would…”

She faltered, unable to finish the sentence.

“Don’t put the idea in my head,” Betsy said firmly, striding ahead into the house. Grace watched her sister go as she bit her lip in trepidation.

Allana was the last family member they had left in the world. If she were to die, then it would truly be just Grace and Betsy left.

Grace followed Betsy through the corridors of the house, watching as her sister took off her flat-rimmed Stetson hat, revealing long brown hair that flowed loosely past her shoulders. Born to a father with black skin, freed from slavery in his teenage years, and a white mother, together the twins bore caramel-colored skin. Where Betsy had dark brown hair, though, Grace’s was light. Betsy wore her hair loose, while Grace’s was always plaited.

As the two of them stepped into the kitchen, the sharp sunlight streaming through the open shutters fell on the horrific image of their cousin, Allana, sat in a chair and clutching at her leg. By her feet was Kasper, who was now pressing bandages into her thigh.

“By ginger,” Grace cursed when she saw the amount of blood on the bandages.

Allana’s head was tilted backward, the ebony skin of her face screwed up in pain.

“Allana!” Betsy cried as she jumped to her side. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

Allana turned in her seat and grabbed Betsy’s hand. Grace could see in the lines of Allana’s knuckles just how tightly she clung to it.

“It was a robbery,” she said quickly.

Grace dropped down to Kasper’s side, watching as he pulled one of the bandages away. The bullet wound was deep.

“Doctor is in on his way,” Kasper muttered to her, shaking his head before he pressed the bandages back to Allana’s leg.

“Let me see,” Grace told him softly, trying to take the bandages from his hand. He looked uncertain, his face tense with inner pain. “Trust me, Kasper. Let me see,” she urged again, and this time he relented.

He sat back, his red-stained hands trembling. Grace glanced at his face before returning her focus to Allana’s leg.

Allana had come to Kasper’s ranch just a year ago to work as a maid, but what had started as a working relationship hadn’t taken long to develop into something else. Allana and Kasper were engaged to be married, with the wedding set for only two days away. Just that simple glance Kasper’s way was enough to tell Grace just how deeply Kasper loved her cousin.

Grace examined the wound. She was an excellent shot herself and had seen — and caused — many wounds in her life. As she pressed the bandage back to Allana’s leg and watched the blood seep, relief filled her.

“Allana,” Grace looked up, earning Allana’s attention away from Betsy, “it’s a flesh wound. The bullet missed the main arteries. You’ll be fine.” Grace smiled then.

Allana tipped her head back and closed her eyes, moving her lips soundlessly for a moment as though thanking the heavens themselves.

Grace exchanged a glance with Betsy. Her sister’s copper eyes were silently asking her if she was sure. Grace nodded once. She had seen enough wounds to know this one wasn’t fatal.

“Thank god.” Kasper was on his feet. He took Allana’s other hand in his and brought it to his face, kissing the back of the knuckles with animation. She looked up at him, unshed tears in her eyes.

“Who did this to you, Allana?” Betsy asked again. “Tell us.”

“I-I went to the bank,” Allana said, trying to control her breathing as she began to cry. “I was just running an errand, and I was about to leave when four men came in, with bandanas over their faces and their guns drawn.”

“Robbery,” Kasper said with seething hatred under his breath.

“They took the bank’s money and when one of the workers tried to stop them, their leader grabbed hold of me.”

These simple words made Allana tense again, Grace could see it. Kasper at her side clung tighter to her hand, too.

“He took me as a hostage, said he’d kill me if they tried to follow, then they dragged me into the street. I tried to get away, tried to slow him down, but he just kept pulling me away.” She gasped again, interrupting her harried story as she tried to catch her breath. “In the tussle, I pulled down his bandana — I could see his face. I knew that face. That’s when he shot me.”

Grace covered her eyes, trying to block out the image in her mind. The robber had tried to kill Allana because she could identify him.

“I must have blacked out. Next thing I knew, Kasper was standing over me, with others all around.” She tore her hand away from Betsy’s grasp and tried to dry her tears with the backs of her hands.

“Allana, you don’t need to be afraid anymore,” Grace assured her cousin, moving to her knees as she tied off one of the bandages. When the doctor got there, he would have to take the bullet out, but in the meantime, they could staunch the bleeding. “He’ll be on the run now; he won’t come after you again. You will survive this.”

Allana nodded, but still the tears came.

“You said you recognized him.” Betsy stood a little straighter, tossing her long brown hair over the shoulder of her bolero jacket. “Who was it?”

“He’s on all the wanted posters.” Allana looked up at her. “Franklin Zimri.”

“Zimri?” Grace repeated, feeling her insides twist at the memory of those posters. “He’s attacked more banks in Louisiana than any other criminal.”

“He’s not tried to kill anyone before, though,” Kasper said, his voice wary.

“No,” Betsy shook her head, “Allana was slowing him down and she saw his face. He wouldn’t have liked that. You know what this means, Grace.” Betsy called her attention. “His bounty will have gone up.”

“You two aren’t thinking of…” Allana broke off, taken over by more gasping tears.

Grace stood straight and pulled out the nearest chair. She knew Betsy so well she barely needed her twin sister to say the words aloud. Grace knew what she was thinking.

Ever since their father’s death, the twins had been on the road as bounty hunters. Sure, it was fun. Together, the two of them made one hell of a team, and with Grace being a crack shot, so far neither girl had been injured. But now, looking at Allana as she dripped blood onto the floor, Grace wasn’t so sure this was a good idea.

“He’s dangerous, Betsy,” she said aloud.

“Aren’t all the criminals we go after?” Betsy shrugged, as though it hardly mattered to her.

There was a rap at the door and Kasper released Allana’s hand.

“That will be the doctor.” He hurried away, out of the kitchen, leaving the three women alone for a minute.

As Grace rested her chin in her hands, thinking over what Betsy was proposing, Allana was panicking. She was leaning up, grabbing at Betsy’s bolero jacket and the plaid shirt beneath.

“Don’t do it, Betsy,” she begged.

“Allana,” Betsy said sharply, trying to pull her cousin’s hands off her shirt. “Look what he did to you! I can’t let him escape justice for that. It isn’t right.”

“This isn’t just a case of going after someone who has stolen some cattle, or hustled the card table,” Allana kept speaking, but Betsy stepped away, moving to Grace’s side.

Before any more could be said on the subject, the doctor was in the room.

“Right, we need to get the bullet out,” the doctor said straight away, urging Grace and Betsy back.

“We’ll be outside.” Grace nudged Betsy, pushing her out beyond the room. Together, they walked down the corridor, Betsy’s spurs chinking against the wooden floor and Grace’s boots thudding.

As they stepped outside, Grace felt the heat of the sun strong on her face. She tilted her head up toward it, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply for a moment, trying to calm the sudden fear that had overtaken her at the sight of Allana in so much pain.

“We’ve only just got back from the last hunt.” Grace sighed without opening her eyes. She could hear Betsy walking around on the terrace, pacing up and down as she often did when they started a new job, deep in thought. “We were going to take a few days off.”

“Things change,” Betsy said simply, prompting Grace to open her eyes to watch her twin sister. Betsy wore denim pants with chaps, and right now that leather material was making a lot of sound as she paced. “Grace, if it happened to either of us, you know the other one would be at the sheriff’s office now. Allana is the only family we have left. We can’t let this happen.”

“I know.” Grace sighed again, knowing Betsy was right. She wanted to see justice too, of course she did; for Allana’s sake, this Franklin Zimri deserved to face a judge. But it meant going back out on the road very quickly — and this time, the stakes would be higher. “I just don’t want to see you where Allana is now.”

“That won’t happen.” Betsy smiled and turned back to face her.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you’d shoot him before he shot me.” She continued to smile as she walked back to Grace’s side, leaning on the wooden post beside her. Grace smiled this time, too.

“What if I’m too slow?”

“Never happened before.” Betsy smirked. “You’re faster than anyone I’ve met and have better aim. We’ll be fine.”

Grace wasn’t so sure.

***

When the doctor had finished, Grace was back beside Allana. Her cousin was lying on a bed upstairs in the ranch house, her back pressed against the headboard and her gaze glacial. She had been given laudanum to dull the pain, but it was clearly doing little to help from the way Allana’s dark lips were pursed together. The glass bottle laid on its side on the table beside them, empty and reeking of an awful scent that made both women’s noses curl.

“You’ll be back on your feet in no time.” Grace was trying to stay upbeat. It was what she did, always looking at the brighter side of life.

Allana attempted a smile, but it failed a second later, and she pressed her lips back into a flat light. Grace took Allana’s hand, weaving their fingers together in comfort.

“You’ll be hobbling down the aisle now for your wedding.” Her attempt at a jest did pull a proper smile from Allana this time, and she shook her head.

“I think I’ll need someone to carry me down the aisle,” she said on an exhale.

“Well, I’m sure Kasper wouldn’t mind being that person,” Grace comforted her, rubbing her thumb across the back of Allana’s hand.

“Yes,” Allana laughed, “he’ll probably carry me without me even asking.” Her laugh faded and she blinked, clearly stopping tears from falling again.

“In time, you won’t think about it so much.” Grace knew the words did little good at this moment, but they were the truth. What was now a brutal memory would fade, given a little time.

“I keep seeing it, again and again, his face when he pulled the—” She broke off and blinked even more. “He was brutish looking, dark brown eyes. So dark I thought they were black. His red hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. In some ways, he looked just like an ordinary man, but in other ways… I guess it was those eyes. The way they stared at me when he shot.” She let out a shuddery breath. “What demons there are in this world.”

“Well, they don’t run around unchecked.” Grace sat straighter in her chair. Though she had been wary before as she stood outside talking with Betsy, the more she thought about it, the more she knew Betsy was right. Of all the bounties they had ever gone after, this one would be personal. She had to fight for that. “There will be retribution for his crimes.”

These words made Allana turn her head sharply back to her, black hair flicking around her chain.

“Tell me you’re not thinking of going after him. Tell me that,” Allana pleaded, in more of an order than a question.

“I can’t tell you that.” She shook her head slowly, watching as Allana grimaced and looked down at her leg.

“Don’t be a fool, Grace.” She pointed at her leg, now bandaged and hidden under the quilted blanket. “I saw this man. I know how brutal he is. One look in my eyes and he shot me. What do you think he’ll do to you if he sees the two of you chasing him? I rather think he’ll shoot you before even asking who you are.”

“Well, as Betsy says, I’ll just have to shoot him first.” This time, her jest did not bring a smile to Allana’s face.

“Pride comes before a fall, as they say,” Allana warned.

The words cut and Grace shifted in her seat. It was dangerous, yes, but she had no choice. They had to go on this hunt.

“Allana, I can’t let this go. No more than Betsy can,” Grace said quietly, seeing the way that Allana hung on her words. “This man should be taken off the road and punished for his crimes.”

“Then let another bounty hunter find Zimri.”

“And leave you unavenged? No, that’s not the way we do things.” Grace smiled, despite how anxious Allana was now growing in the bed. “You will have your retribution, Allana. We will see this man face a judge for what he did to you.”

Though Grace felt emboldened by these words, knowing beyond doubt it was the right thing, Allana did not look comforted at all.

“I can’t change your mind, can I?” Allana whispered the words.

“No.” Grace shook her head. “I have made up my mind, and you know Betsy made up her mind the moment she heard you had been shot.”

“Very well. I can’t ever stop Betsy, and if I can’t stop you now, then promise me something, instead.” Allana pulled on their connected hands.

“What?”

“After this hunt, find your own path.”

These simple words clearly had a lot of meaning behind them.

“What do you mean?” Grace asked innocently, though she pulled at the collar of her shirt, deep down knowing exactly what Allana meant.

“You have followed Betsy into this life of being bounty hunters for the last four years; is this really what you want forever more?” Allana’s deep brown eyes held hers, clearly expecting an answer.

Grace had to break that connected gaze. Instead, she looked down at their joined hands.

“It’s a living,” she said, her voice firmer than she felt in her conviction.

“Yes, but one where the two of you could meet your deaths,” Allana pointed out with a strained voice. “All I’m saying is, is this really want you want from your whole life? Or… is it time for the next stage? Take your own path and stop following Betsy.”

“I will. In time.” Grace smiled at her cousin. She had to change the subject, or they’d never stop discussing it. “Here I thought the days of my older cousin giving me lectures were long gone.”

“No chance.” Allana smiled back. “I’ll be giving you lectures forever more.”

“I hope so.” Grace squeezed her hand. “I’ll leave you to get some sleep.”

“Thank you.” Allana released her hand.

Before leaving the room, Grace kissed her on the cheek, allowing the two women to embrace for a beat longer than usual before Grace took her leave. On the threshold of the door, Grace looked back, watching as her cousin wrapped herself up in the patchwork blanket.

Allana’s words were lingering with her. It was something Grace had been thinking of for a while, that maybe it was time to stop being a bounty hunter and look to something new. She turned, closed the door, and walked down the corridor. She only made it two steps when someone interrupted her path.

“How is she?” Kasper had reached the top of the stairs. He was staring at her with his green eyes wide with concern.

“She’s sleeping,” Grace assured him. “She’ll do better for the rest.”

He nodded but said nothing as he turned back and descended the stairs. It was clear to Grace how devoted Kasper and Allana were to one another. As she looked at Kasper’s retreating back, she couldn’t help wondering if such a future was possible for her. She rather liked the idea of finding someone she could care for as much. Someone to potentially build a life with. A family, too.

“Grace?” a voice called up from the bottom of the stairs.

Grace hurried down, coming face to face with the person who had called her.

“You ready?” Betsy asked, pulling on her flat-rimmed hat.

“I’m ready.” Grace nodded.

The problem was that if she ever wanted to leave being a bounty hunter, she would have to leave Betsy. And Grace wasn’t sure she could do that.

Chapter Two

“I think it’s time you had a new horse,” Betsy said as she watched Grace trying to control the Morgan. The brown steed reared its head again, nearly throwing Grace off as she struggled to get it down.

“He’s just spirited,” Grace said breathlessly as she eventually managed to steer the horse alongside Betsy.

“That I can see,” Betsy agreed, and the two of them began to ride back into town. Betsy led the way, as she always did, kicking up dust with Grace close behind her.

As they rode, Betsy could feel a fire in her stomach. It was the same burn she always felt when they started a new hunt, but this time that burn was greater than ever before, as though she could feel it overtaking her entire body.

No one hurt her family. No one.

This Zimri would not only pay the consequences of his crime, but he would also pay for what he did to Allana. Betsy would be happy to ride the full length of the frontier in order to find him, if that was what it took.

“Slow down!” Grace called out when they reached the town.

Betsy did as requested, but reluctantly. The sooner they reached the sheriff’s office, the better, for they could begin tracking Zimri. Turning in the streets, it became far too busy to ride the horses at full pelt anyway, so Betsy had to slow down to a canter, allowing Grace to come alongside her once again.

“I’ve been thinking,” Grace murmured slowly, but then said no more.

“Yes?” Betsy flicked her head toward her twin sister, urging her on. She watched as Grace tilted her head forward a little, allowing her plait of light brown hair to fall across her shoulder. “Was that the end of that sentence?” Betsy pressed. “Come on, you’re always the one talking — why are you suddenly so quiet?”

“It’s hard to explain.” Grace grimaced before lifting her gaze, looking directly at Betsy. Even from the distance between the two horses, Betsy could see the darker bronze color of Grace’s eyes fixed to her.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“No.” Grace shook her head. “You are right, this has to be done. For Allana’s sake, that man has to be found. I was thinking about after this hunt is over.”

“What about it?” Betsy asked warily, unsure as to where Grace was heading with her words.

“What if I took a break for a while?”

“What?” Betsy brought the horse to a stop, pulling on the reins so sharply it snorted. Grace’s horse, however, did not want to stop. “Grace!”

“The horse has a mind of his own today,” Grace called back over her shoulder. Betsy had to urge her horse forward, prompting it to jump just enough to come level with Grace once more.

“What do you mean, a break?” Betsy could hear how high-pitched her voice had suddenly become.

“A little time away.” Grace shrugged, as though the matter were no big deal.

“What would you do for money?”

“Maybe I could work at the ranch,” she said nonchalantly. “There are many jobs in town I could take.”

“But… I can’t do this job without you,” Betsy insisted, watching as Grace looked at her with wide eyes.

“You can’t?” Grace asked.

“No. We’re a team, Grace.” Betsy was well aware she was pleading with her sister now. “We work best as a team. It’s what we’ve always done.”

“I know.” Grace nodded.

Betsy couldn’t believe it. Ever since their father had passed, they hadn’t left one another’s sides. Becoming bounty hunters had been a logical step, following the path their father had taken before them. Together, they had earned a name for themselves: Betsy and Grace Trussell — the Trussell Twins — the most successful bounty hunters in this part of Louisiana. They earned a good living, but it meant more to Betsy than just that.

She couldn’t imagine waking up one day on a hunt and not having Grace beside her.

“You really want to stop?” Betsy could hear the sadness in her own voice, but she couldn’t erase it. She was too afraid of losing Grace from her side.

“I don’t know.” Grace held her gaze. “I was just thinking of a break, that’s all.”

“Then we’ll take a break,” Betsy assured her with a nod. “After this hunt, we will take a couple of weeks off. Would that be all right? Then we can go again. I heard there were some hustlers arriving from Missouri. We could go after them.”

“Yes, we could.” Grace nodded, though her voice had no vigor in it.

“Then it’s settled?” Betsy asked with hope. She wasn’t going to lose Grace after all. It was just a wobble, just tiredness. That was all. “After this hunt, we’ll take a couple of weeks off.”

“Yes, it’s settled,” Grace agreed.

“Great.” Betsy smiled as they turned the horses through the next street.

The sheriff’s office loomed ahead in front of them. The dark wooden building was cramped between two saloons, with a single sign bearing the word ‘Sheriff’ swinging in the breeze. It was a building Betsy had been in more times than she could remember. Sheriff Hayes was the man to offer the first bounty to the twins. Since then, he had arranged most of their jobs.

As they pulled up outside, Grace’s horse began to act out again. It reared and whinnied loudly.

“What is wrong with him?” Betsy asked as she jumped down from her horse and tied the reins to the post.

“I don’t know.” Grace looked perturbed as she leapt down from the horse, causing the steed just to strike the ground with its hooves. “You talk to Sheriff Hayes, I don’t think I can leave him alone.”

Betsy nodded and hurried up into the building, knowing they had no time to waste. Every minute they dallied was another minute for Allana’s attacker to get farther away from New Springs.

***

It took many minutes for the horse to settle, but eventually Grace made him calm enough that he drank from a bucket of water outside the sheriff’s office. She was so busy focusing on the Morgan that the sounds of more horses behind her startled her. She turned her head , feeling the braid whip around her shoulders, to see who had arrived.

Atop two horses were two men, one of whom she recognized: Bronco Yeoman, another bounty hunter. Grace groaned and tried to hide her body behind the horse away from him, unwilling to enter into conversation with the hunter. He and Betsy had butted heads many times during their hunts. Grace was convinced there was more to his arguments with her sister than met the eye, but Betsy always denied it.

Regardless, their squabbles had turned their association into something that could be quite bitter at times. More than once they had found themselves put onto the same hunt, and equally as many times had they stolen one another’s bounties. The last hunt Grace and Betsy went on, they had stolen Bronco’s criminal while he was napping. He had vowed the next bounty would be his.

Grace peered over the back of her horse, watching as Bronco jumped down from his mount. His black hair was longer than usual, curling around his ears and the stubble on his cheeks. His gray eyes were fixed on the sheriff’s office, clearly with purpose in mind.

“I won’t be long,” he called to his friend, clearly not having noticed Grace from where she was hiding. “I would say take care of the horse, but you could probably do that in your sleep.”

The friend smiled but said nothing as Bronco walked away.

It was then that Grace took a proper look at the stranger. With both horses’ reins in his hands, he made no attempt to tie them up, and his grasp was loose. He was tall, much taller than her, with fair hair practically the color of sand peeking out from the rim of his white cattleman hat. He had a square jaw, stern features with a handsomeness to them, and broad shoulders.

Grace became so entranced with watching him as he silently attended to the horses that she forgot about her own horse, just as he acted out again.

The Morgan struck the ground, whinnied, and threw its head back so high that it knocked over the bucket of water.

The stranger’s face flicked toward her.

***

“That’s what we’re offering,” Sheriff Hayes said as he took his seat behind the table in his office.

“I’ll take it.” Betsy folded her arms, watching him carefully.

“I’m surprised you don’t want more.” Sheriff Hayes leaned his elbows on the desk, peering at her from beneath his bushy white eyebrows. “You usually always try to get more money out of me.”

It was true, she always did. After all, she was part of a team, and the more money she could get out of the sheriff then the more could be shared between her and Grace. But this time he could have offered no money at all and she still would have taken up the deal.

“This time it’s personal, Sheriff.” She didn’t want to say any more, and she could see she didn’t have to.

“Ah, Allana.” The sheriff nodded. “Can’t blame you for that.” He sat back in his chair. “If I were a younger man and it happened to my cousin, I would be on the road already myself.”

“Then you understand,” Betsy said.

“Perfectly.”

The door opened. Betsy flicked her head toward it, but the sight that greeted her made her straighten her spine.

He was back — the bounty hunter who seemed to always make her job twice as difficult as it should be. He walked in wearing denim jeans, boots, and a plaid shirt embroidered around the shoulders in his usual stylized yoke. The last she’d heard, he was in Missouri, seeing family or something of the kind. She hadn’t expected him to be back so soon, or to be interfering with this particular bounty hunt.

“Out, Bronco,” she ordered, her voice fierce. “This bounty is mine.”

“How funny.” Bronco took off his black Stetson as he strode to her side and hooked it under his arm. “I thought that about my last hunt, before you took him.”

“You were sleeping.” Betsy shrugged. “I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

“You saw an opportunity to make me look bad, you mean.” Bronco smiled at her before turning to face the sheriff.

Betsy bristled at the sight of that smile. It was always the same whenever she saw Bronco. They bickered for a while and then he would smile, and it would do something to her insides. Bronco might be handsome, she could accept that, but he was another bounty hunter, and that meant he was the competition.

“You’re here offering to hunt for Zimri, too?” the sheriff asked, tweaking his white handlebar moustache.

“Oh yes,” Bronco said, mirroring Betsy’s stance with folded arms. He cast a glance to her, showing that he was doing it on purpose. “I’m the best in the state, after all. You should probably give me the job over the Trussell Twins.”

“You’re not the best,” Betsy laughed instantly.

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve taken enough bounties from you by now to prove it.” She turned to him, just as he turned to her. They were standing very close, with him staring down at her, that infernally irritating smirk playing upon his lips.

“That’s called cheating, honey.” He tilted his head to the side.

“I told you before, do not call me ‘honey.’” She placed a hand on the gun in the holster around her hips, threatening him.

“No shooting in here, you two,” the sheriff ordered lazily. Even Betsy could hear in his tone he was tired of hearing it.

“But it suits you.” Bronco winked at her.

Had they been outside, she would have gladly shot the ground as just a threat to him.

“Once you two are done bickering like a married couple—”

Betsy flicked her head toward Sheriff Hayes in surprise. “That is not what we are like!” she complained loudly, only to hear a soft chuckle from Bronco at her side.

That chuckle did things to her. Though she wasn’t sure if she was more irritated or pleased by the sound.

Being pleased by him at all made her hate him all the more.

“A married couple,” Bronco repeated the words, as though enjoying the sound of them. “We could make it official, honey? What do you say?”

“Take a step toward me and I’ll shoot it off,” she warned, smiling gleefully at him. To her surprise, he laughed out loud.

“All right.” Sheriff Hayes stood up, clearly tired of their antics. “Listen here, you two. Yes, I can confirm we are raising the bounty on Franklin Zimri’s head. Allana was not the only one to see him in the bank robbery. One of the passersby saw him when Allana pulled off his bandana. So, we’re raising it and sending his poster out to nearby towns. It won’t be long until other bounty hunters are on the case, not just you two.”

“Sheriff Hayes,” Betsy began slowly, “don’t put Bronco on this.”

She was tempted to beg him not to. Seeing Bronco during other hunts was humorous enough — they could steal each other’s bounties and it was fun to bicker — but this was a different kind of hunt.

It was for Allana’s sake, and if Bronco got in her way, their amusing squabbling would turn into something much more explosive. In fact… she thought she might actually shoot him.

“I can’t do that, Betsy,” Sheriff Hayes said, keeping his voice deep and holding her gaze for a beat longer. “I know it matters to you, but I need Zimri, and whoever can get him first, I will pay to do the job. Understood?”

“Yes,” she said tightly, her frustration elongating the ‘s’ sound.

“Why don’t you put your feet up for this one, Betsy?” Bronco said with ease at her side, earning her narrowed glare again.

“Why?” she asked with suspicion.

“Well, you know after what happened last time, I’m going to take this one from you. No matter what happens.” He smiled, full of pride.

“Judging by how much you nap, if you do take this one from me, it won’t be long before I take him back from you.” She smirked up at him.

“I’ll win this one, honey.” He lost his smile entirely, his face turning serious for a moment. It was so rare to see Bronco serious at all, it stunned her for a minute.

“No, Bronco, you won’t.” She shook her head, but it was a small, sharp movement. “This one is personal to me.”

“Personal? Why?” he asked.

That was information she was not willing to share. She cleared her throat and looked back to the sheriff, pleased that Bronco had not heard of her connection to Allana.

“I’ll bring Zimri back to you, Sheriff Hayes,” she said simply, stepping forward. Bronco didn’t miss a beat, though, and stepped forward to join her level again.

“Good, then you’ll need these.” He passed them a strip of thick parchment. Before Betsy could take it, Bronco had it in his hands.

“Bronco,” she warned as she tried to snatch it back. He held it out of her reach, above her head, for a minute. Betsy was tall, but when it came to Bronco, she only reached his shoulders.

“It’s a list of the names of the men we think are helping Zimri,” Sheriff Hayes explained. “We’re not certain.”

“Where did you get the names?” As Bronco asked, he was distracted enough to lower the parchment in the air. Betsy took the opportunity and snatched it quickly away so she could read the names: Orville, Pinkney, and Irwin.

“Someone tattled on them,” Sheriff Hayes said as he took his seat again. “We don’t know if it’s reliable or not. So, it’s settled. Whoever gets back here first with the bounty, they’ll get the money.”

“Sheriff Hayes, please—” Betsy began, but the sheriff cut her off with a sharp glare.

“I need him off the road, Betsy. If Bronco gets there before you do, then so be it. You may both go.” He gestured to the door. “I’ve had enough of your bickering for one day. It’s like my sister and her husband.”

“That is not what we are like,” she said again, folding up the parchment and putting it in the pocket of her denim jeans.

“You heard him, honey.” Bronco turned to her and offered his hand. “We’re being given our marching orders. Shall I escort you out?”

“Touch me and you’ll regret it.” She threw the comment over her shoulder before walking away, listening to Bronco chuckling behind her.

When they reached the doorway, stepping out onto the wooden-roofed porch, Bronco somehow managed to get in front of Betsy. She had to leap back, stopping herself from colliding with him. She had this image in her mind of face-planting into his chest, and she couldn’t explain why the thought caused a blush to creep across her cheeks.

“What?” she asked, looking up to him and feeling a little flustered.

“Why is it personal?” he asked, far too seriously for comfort. She knew him as the bounty hunter that took life with a pinch of salt. A serious countenance did not suit his face.

“That’s my business, not yours.” She tried to step around him, but he got in the way again.

This time, Betsy wasn’t prepared for it at all. She brought up her hands just as they collided, meaning she was chest to chest with Bronco and her hands were pressed between them. She looked up, seeing his gray eyes widen and his smirk grow bigger.

“Why are you always in the way?” She pushed him away, trying to ignore the fact that her blush was no doubt getting worse.

“We do seem to keep bumping into each other, don’t we? Quite literally, on this occasion.”

“Enough, Bronco.”

“I have an offer to make you.”

These words brought her attempt to get around him to another stop. “What kind of an offer?”

“What would you say to teaming up?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. She felt the way his gray eyes watched her and was discomforted by it. She adjusted her bolero jacket, pulling it more across her body.

“Why would I do that?” she said with defiance, tilting her chin up.

“Well, if this is personal, working together, we could find Zimri faster. Wouldn’t you want that?” he asked.

“Your logic is missing one crucial thing.” She shook her head.

“What is that?”

“I only trust one person in this world to go on a bounty hunt with.” She flicked her head to the side, gesturing round where she knew Grace was waiting with the horses.

“Ah, the other half of the famous Trussell twins.” Bronco smiled.

“Exactly.” She nodded. “I wouldn’t trust going on a bounty hunt with anyone else in this world. Least of all you.” She did step around him this time.

“Me? Why me? Oh, you wound me. It’s like a bullet wound to the chest.” He put upon a mock performance of clutching his chest in sheer agony, prompting her to look back to him. “What did I do to deserve such a thing?”

“You keep stealing my bounties,” she pointed out.

“Only because you steal mine.” He gestured to her. “And I’m convinced you started it.” He folded his arms.

“I thought you started it.” She was the one to mirror his stance this time.

“Great, so neither of us can even remember who began this feud in the first place,” he laughed, more to himself than to her. “Anyway, my point is, I’m offering you a deal here. Either we could team up, find Zimri, and split the money at the end, or we go this alone.”

“Then alone it is.” She tilted her chin higher. “I’ll reiterate my point, Bronco: the only partner I’d ever go on a hunt with is Grace. I don’t trust you any further than I could throw you.”

“Want to try throwing me?” he asked, holding out his arms. “I may not be as heavy as I look.”

She had to bite the insides of her cheeks to stop from laughing.

“I don’t trust you, Bronco, and I never will.”

“Maybe I could change your mind someday.” He was still smirking as he held her gaze. There was something in that look, something beyond their usual playfulness.

Betsy didn’t like it. She needed to get away from him.

“No, you won’t.”

---

“Final Shot for Retribution” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

The notorious twins Betsy and Grace will hunt down any criminal for a price. As bounty hunters, quitting is not a word in their vocabulary. Their next mission unfortunately becomes a personal matter, when their beloved cousin gets injured by a gunshot in a bank robbery. Right then and there, the fearless sisters vow to capture the ruthless criminal and make him pay for his crime. What they do not expect though is that they will soon have to deal with the most dangerous undertaking of their lives… With danger closing in, will Betsy and Grace find the vicious outlaw before anyone else gets hurt?

The brave duo’s journey will take an unexpected turn when they discover that the bounty hunter Bronco, along with his best friend Josh, are after the same criminal. Whereas for the two men this mission is just another bounty, for Betsy and Grace it’s personal business. While the two sisters are determined to handle this hunt without help, circumstances will force them to work together with the two friends and share the bounty. Soon, flirt and unexpected attraction will come to the surface, but time is up and there’s no place for romance in this perilous pursuit. Will Bronco and Josh gain the twins’ trust? Will Betsy and Grace set their stubbornness aside and cooperate with the two friends before it’s too late?

With a race across Louisiana and gunshots flying whenever they get the outlaw within sight, this will be a hunt that everyone will remember for a lifetime. After a disastrous altercation, will good win over evil? In the end, will the fearless team manage to survive the violent clash and serve justice?

A pulse-pounding drama, which will make you turn the pages with bated breath until the very last word. A must-read for fans of Western action and romance.

“Final Shot for Retribution” is a historical adventure novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cliffhangers, only pure unadulterated action.

Get your copy from Amazon!