Where is she?”
Zeke rubbed his head. “She hit me.”
Wyatt removed his foot, not in the least surprised.
“Where is she now?”
“Don’t know. Don’t want a woman who hits.”
“Why did you take her in the first place?”
“She wanted out of jail and I git her out.”
“Why didn’t you let her go?”
Zeke frowned. “’Cause she’s mine.”
Wyatt exhaled deeply. “Zeke…” Just then, headlights darted though the woods. A door slammed and Stuart charged into the clearing with his gun drawn.
“Over here!” Wyatt called, and pulled Zeke to his feet. “Cuff him,” he said to Stuart.
As Stuart snapped handcuffs onto Zeke’s wrists, Wyatt asked again, “Where did the woman go?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care,” Zeke muttered. “She hit me.”
Stuart looked at Wyatt. “What do you think?”
Wyatt glanced toward the woods. “I think she’s out there somewhere.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Take Zeke and lock him up, then get together a posse. We have to find her.”
“Are you staying here?”
“Yes. I’ll start searching.”
Stuart grabbed Zeke’s arm. “What were you thinking? You can’t just take a woman. That’s kidnapping. Now she’s lost out here.”
“Don’t care.”
On the way to the truck Stuart continued to reprimand Zeke, but Zeke stuck to his “don’t care” reply. Ms. Ross had shattered his illusion of what a woman should be. Wyatt thought Ms. Ross was good at shattering illusions.
Wyatt removed his hat and wiped his forehead with his arm. Hot sweat trickled down his back. Why did Ms. Ross have to speed through his town?
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
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