Stained Snow (27 page)

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Authors: Fallon Brown

BOOK: Stained Snow
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If this battle did come, blood would be shed. Was it really worth it?

Leah glanced over at Barrett. His usual smile still hadn’t returned. That made her uneasy. It seemed no matter what happened, he could lighten the mood. He caught her looking, and a ghost of that smile came out, but he didn’t say a word. They both knew what life would be like if they voiced any disagreement with their father’s plans.

Leah had barely sat for a week the first time she had turned away a suitor without even letting him in the house. Much like the first time she’d slipped away from one of her many lessons he’d subjected her to. Piano, needlework, and so many other things she was supposed to know as a ‘lady’. How she hated that term.

The edge of town came into view, and she straightened in the bed of the wagon. “Remember, Barrett, you are to stay with your sister,” their father said as he drove the wagon down the street.

“I will, Father.”

Lord, she was tired of being treated like a child, or worse, a doll. “We’re in town, Pa. Nothing’s going to happen to me here.”

“You never know what some of these
people
will do to get at me.” He made the word sound like they were actually less than that. He pulled the wagon to a stop across from the saloon. “Keep an eye on your sister, Barrett,” he said after tying the reins to the hitching rail. “If anything happens, it is on your head.”

“Yes, Father.”

It surprised her no one else heard the tension in his voice. It appeared to only be her as the other two men started across the street. “It wasn’t my idea for you to stay with me. I don’t care if you go off to do what you want.”

He shook his head after a moment. “It’s better if I just stay with you.” He pushed his hat back on his head and smiled at her. “Can’t leave you for these heathens after all.”

“Heathens?” she asked, scoffing. “Now, you sound like Pa.”

“Please, Leah, I suffer enough insults from Louis.” He jumped down from the wagon and held out a hand to her. Once her feet were on the ground, he gave a little bow. “Where to first, Milady?”

The corners of her mouth tugged up into a smile. She was about to respond when the rattle of chains distracted her. A wagon came down the street, with just one man on the seat. He was older, and she could remember seeing him around town before even though she couldn’t recall his name now. The man riding on horseback beside him really caught her attention.

He rode tall in the saddle, his eyes trained forward. She couldn’t make out many of his features from this distance, but she had the urge to move closer to him. Barrett rested his hand on her shoulder before she could.

“Stay away from that one, sister. Father would never let that match happen.”

“Why not? He’s been so desperate for me to marry.”

He nodded at the men as they passed. “Not only is he Patrick Bailey’s newest ranch hand, he’s a half-breed. He’d never let it happen.”

His words had her stomach dropping even as her mind didn’t quite want to process them. “Half-breed? What-?”

“He has family at the Wind River Reservation. Father will not allow it, you have to know that.”

“That’s the third time you’ve said that, like you think I actually have an interest in him,” she said but didn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m not blind, sister. Now, where do you want to go first?”

Acknowledgments

 

 

As always, I have to thank Kat Morissey for being my first reader, for loving my characters as much as I do, and sometimes even more than I initially did(*cough*Adam*cough*). Thanks for helping me dig deeper into this story and the characters and bring it from what it was to what it is now.

Also, big thanks to Shan Burton for pointing out the weaker moments and helping me strengthen them. And I think I did finally exterminate most of those dastardly “though”s.

Thanks should also go to my stepdad. Without him, I never would have watched my first western, which lead me to reading pretty much every one I could get my hands on: in the school library, the public library, and the bookstore. And without which, I never would have written one.

And to Cory, Hayleigh, and Nathan: I know I often get swept away into the world of my stories, but you keep me grounded. Thank you for that, too.

About the Author

 

Fallon Brown was born and raised in a tiny town in the northwestern corner of Pennsylvania. At one time, she dreamed of having a cabin in the woods or mountains where she could be left alone to write. Instead she spent three years studying psychology before realizing that wasn't for her. She now lives outside of a slightly larger small town in the same corner of her home state with her husband, two children, dog, and cat.

 

She spends her days interfering in the lives of fictional characters while trying to keep a semblance of a clean house. Often the clean house bit fails

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