of something, anything, and finally managed to snag the door frame. “Let go of me, you beast!”
“Let go of the door,” he demanded.
“No.” Digging her fingernails into the wood, she held on with all her might.
It wasn’t enough. With another completely uncalled-for wrench that pulled her right up against him, he hauled her out of the door. Fearing he might dump her into the snow, Violet grabbed his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist.
He grunted and twisted, trying to dislodge her, but she hooked her ankles and clasped her hands together.
“For Christ’s sake, woman,” he growled, “let go.”
“No.”
His hands were tugging at her thighs, which had her cheeks burning, but keeping all ten toes was worth a bit of embarrassment.
“She ain’t got any shoes.”
That was Mr. Riley, and thankfully his comment caused the sheriff to quit trying to pull her off him.
“No shoes?” he barked like a vicious dog. “Who the hell travels to Montana in December with no shoes?”
Good and flustered, Violet snapped her head back to glare at him. “I had shoes—boots—but someone stole them on the train. Outlaws, no doubt, the sort you should be out chasing instead of accosting women.”
His eyes were brown, with tiny bits of gold, and glaring at her with enough loathing she should shrivel up like a raisin. Which was not about to happen. Her body, though, where it was plastered against his, was tingling in ways it shouldn’t be.
He let out another very unflattering growl and then grasped her bottom as he spun around.
The shock of that had Violet unhooking her ankles and hands. “Put me down.”
“Sure,” he said, loosening his hold.
She grabbed his shoulders again. “No!” Her toes were already numb, and she truly feared losing them to frostbite. “Please don’t drop me.”
He made no comment, nor did he look at her, but his hold turned firm again as he trudged through the snow. A few seconds later he unceremoniously planted her on a horse. Sideways, so both of her legs hung over one side. Thankful for the separation, she grabbed the saddle horn and scooted back. He gave her a nasty look as he gathered the reins and tied them to a tree growing out of the rocks. They did that—trees—grew out of the mountainside. She’d been amazed by it during the long train ride. Other things had amazed her, too. Like waking up and finding her boots and money gone. Her bag was still under the seat as it had been when she’d fallen asleep. But her boots were gone, along with her small cache of funds, leaving her no choice but to board the waiting stage shoeless.
Twisting about in the saddle, Violet pulled up her legs, crossing them to tuck her cold toes beneath her thighs.
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