Second Chance Cowboy

Crickets chirped in the tall green grass as he made his way toward the house. The evening breeze stirred the stand of ponderosas, sending the scent of pine wafting through the warm air. In the distance, the Little Rockies range slowly turned from violet to black against the midnight-blue sky.

Hank could feel the air grow heavy around him, the heft of the gun too familiar in his hand. He’d been here before, too many times, and had thought he’d put this part of his life behind him.

Right. That’s why you keep guns stashed in places easy to get to should you need them.

The back door was unlocked. He turned the knob without making a sound and stepped in. The air inside felt cool and smelled of the orange-scented cleaner Claudia used.

The back door opened into the laundry room. He stepped from it to the doorway to the kitchen. Empty.

He moved quickly through the large commercial kitchen, into the open living area with its huge fireplace and assorted leather furniture. The ranch house had come furnished. He had yet to sit in every chair.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

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