And then he saw her, heading his way from the Town Square, looking as beautiful as ever. The last person he ever wanted to see again.
Katie.
He hadn’t known she’d come back to town, not this time at least. The last time, she’d come out to the ranch, demanding to see him, batting her lashes at him, begging him for a second chance. When that didn’t work, she asked for money, claiming she was broke, which he had believed. He hadn’t offered to give her what she wanted, but he’d had to fight the inclination to do so. At that time, he still fancied himself in love with her, despite how she hurt him.
That was then. This was now.
He could pretend he hadn’t heard her, hadn’t seen her, but it was too late. She rushed across the street and threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around him, then standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. He turned his head at the last minute, and her lips harmlessly landed on his cheek. He untangled her arms from around his neck and stepped back, but he could only go so far, because the wagon was right there.
She gave him a moue of disappointment, but he wasn’t the lovesick man he’d been before. He wasn’t going to fall for her wiles again. Once was enough. “Hello, Katie.”
“Hello, yourself,” she purred even as she reached out again and laid a gloved hand on his chest.
Every muscle in his body tensed before he clasped her hand and physically removed it from his person. “What do you want?”
She smiled coquettishly and batted her long lashes. “I don’t want anything, Wyatt. I saw you and wanted to say hello.”
He didn’t believe her. Katie always had an ulterior motive, always wanted something.
“Buy me a cup of coffee? I thought we could catch up. I’ve missed you.”
“I need to get back to the ranch.”
Again, she gave him that moue of disappointment. At one time, that would have worked on him, and he would have given her everything she asked for—and did—but not anymore. Still, it wasn’t in his nature to be cruel, no matter how badly she’d hurt him. Katie couldn’t help what and who she was, something he learned long after she left.
“Maybe another time,” he said, keeping his voice neutral, despite his discomfort.
She nodded, making her brunette ringlets bounce before she smiled that smile he’d loved for so long. “I look forward to it. I’ll be in town visiting my folks for a while. Why don’t you stop by? Mama and Daddy would love to see you.”
He didn’t commit, didn’t promise her anything. “It was nice seeing you, Katie. Be well.”
She reached out to touch him one more time, then seemed to think better of it and walked away.
He watched her go, the sway of her hips seemingly more pronounced than they used to be, perhaps because she knew he was watching, then he climbed into the buckboard. He gatheredthe reins in his hands but didn’t shake them. Instead, he just sat there, his thoughts a riot in his mind, but surprisingly, his heart didn’t hurt. Not as much as it used to, where she was concerned. Perhaps, he had finally gotten over her, and that, for reasons he couldn’t explain—or maybe reasons he didn’t want to—made him smile.
Maybe he’d stop for a beer before heading home to celebrate that fact. Conrad’s was on the next street over. He shook the reins.
As he turned the corner, he could see something was happening in front of the saloon. A trio of men, former cowboys from a neighboring ranch, all of whom he recognized, were standing in a small circle on the sidewalk and, in the middle of them, he saw her. Sheridan. She didn’t look happy. In fact, she looked scared, which he could see even from this distance.
He flicked the reins and brought the buckboard to a stop. He jumped from his seat as rage surged through him. “Duggan! What the hell do you think you’re doing? Take your hands off her! Now!”
“I was just having a little fun.” Duggan snickered and pulled Sheridan closer to him, his hand gripping her upper arm hard enough to cause bruises. She fought him and eventually landed a smack across his face. Duggan didn’t take too kindly to that but didn’t let go.
“She isn’t having fun.” His hands balled into fists as he climbed up to the sidewalk and approached the young man. “Take your hands off her.”
“Or what?” The man puffed out his chest, his grip on her arm seeming to tighten. “She’s a whore, ain’t she? Saw her at Josie’s.”
“She’s not one of Josie’s girls. And even if she were, that’s no way to treat a woman.” Wyatt reached out and gripped the hand that held Sheridan so tightly. He managed to free her from Duggan’s iron-like hold. He did it as gently as he could,as he didn’t want to hurt her more than she’d already been, but it wouldn’t bother him in the least to break a few of Duggan’s fingers.
He pulled her away from Duggan. “Go wait in my wagon.” She wasted no time hurrying down the sidewalk and climbing into his wagon. He made sure she was safe, then turned and focused his attention on the young man. “You’re drunk, Duggan. Go home and sleep it off.”
“The hell I will!” He said a few other choice words no one should say, then made a move to go after Sheridan.
Wyatt had no doubt he would try to pull her from the wagon, determined to get what he wanted.
In that moment, he saw red. He wasn’t a violent man, had never been prone to fights, but that didn’t stop him now from clenching his hand into a fist and letting it fly. His punch connected with Duggan’s nose. The sound of bone breaking was more than satisfying as Duggan staggered, then toppled backward from the force of the blow. He hit the sidewalk with a solid thump, then just lay there, unconscious. It was the first time he'd ever ‘punched someone’s lights out.’
He glanced at one of Duggan’s companions, a big man he knew only as Jim. “Take him to Doc Hart and have him look at that nose, then sober him up.”
