Chapters (68)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- PART ONE - SOLDIER
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- PART TWO - RANGER
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- PART THREE - GUNFIGHTER
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- PART FOUR - HOME
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Teaser chapter
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
“Who is she?” Ditch whistled, as a woman stepped off the train.
A number of women had already disembarked, but this particular female stood out dramatically from the rest. She looked to be in her early to mid-thirties, was of slightly less than average height, and possessed a remarkably beautiful face. In addition to extraordinary green eyes, she had pale skin, freckles, flaming red hair tucked under her bonnet, and a strikingly buxom figure.
Another feature that distinguished this woman from others in the crowd was the elegant, and clearly expensive, dress, hat, and matching parasol she sported. Such elaborate feminine attire might have been commonplace in New Orleans or Saint Louis, but was in stark contrast to what women in Atherton typically wore. In addition to its cost, the woman’s dress was very formfitting and exposed a great deal of her prominent bust.
The woman seemed aware that many of the men, and more than a few jealous women, had taken notice of her.
“Never seen her before,” Pritchard said.
“Would have remembered if I had,” Ditch said. “I can’t tell if she’s on the outside of that dress tryin’ to get in, or the inside tryin’ to get out.”
“Put your jaws back into place,” Idelle said, pinching Ditch until he winced. “You two clods act like you’ve never seen a girl before.”
“I’ve seen plenty of girls,” Pritchard said, “but none like her. She’s built like a burlap bag full of bobcats.”
The red-haired woman’s gaze stopped when it met Pritchard’s. She stared at him through emerald eyes. After a moment’s evaluation, she turned abruptly on her heels and headed toward the luggage car.
“Wonder what brings someone like her to Atherton?” Ditch said.
“Never you mind, Ditch Clemson,” Idelle said.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo by Denis Lynch
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SEAN LYNCH grew up in Iowa, served in the army as an enlisted infantryman, and spent almost three decades as a municipal police officer in the San Francisco Bay Area. During his law enforcement career, he’s been a motorcycle officer, firearms instructor, S.W.A.T. team member, sex crimes investigator, and homicide detective. Learn more about Sean at seanlynchbooks.com.