Read Online Heaven with a Gun by Connie Brockway - Free Book Online

saucily, her hand on one leather- bound set. “These aren’t even books, Mr. Calhoun.” She waggled a fingertip at him. “They’re glued together.”
    “Well, the rest of the books are real, honey.” Jim fervently wished he’d stop calling Gilly “honey.” “And those serve their purpose. They cover my safe.”
    “Oh!” Gilly’s hand dropped as though scalded. Jim’s heart thudded with sudden, awful certitude. “Should you be telling me that?”
    Calhoun shrugged. “You’re not going to rob me, are you?”
    “You never know.”
    Jesus. She didn’t fidget a mite. Just smiled.
    “Only a fool like George Reynolds gets robbed by a woman.”
    “Like who?”
    “George Reynolds. Fellow up north. Got robbed twice by that Lightning Lil gal. Twice. I always said that he—”
    “Vance!” Margaret Calhoun sailed into the library. “Ah. The Coynes. I see Vance is giving you a tour of my house.” The emphasis on the pronoun was unmistakable.
    “It’s gorgeous, Mrs. Calhoun,” Gilly enthused, releasing Vance’s arm and stepping away.
    “Thank you.” Margaret thawed slightly. “It isn’t furnished as I’d like yet. But as we’ll be touring Europe, I expect I’ll be able to pick up the few odds and ends there. Too tedious, all the travel, but worth the effort. Europe is so grandly . . . old. You’ve been there, of course.”
    Gilly shook her head, and Margaret smiled like a cat feeding on liver. “Oh, but my dear, you must induce James to take you. You’d love it.”
    “I’m sure I would. Are you going soon?”
    “In a few weeks,” Margaret returned brightly. “Now, Vance, as delightful as it is to have cosmopolitan guests, we do have others. Don’t neglect your duties as host.” Her gaze found Gilly’s cast. “It’s too bad about your injury, Mrs. Coyne. We’re to have dancing later. Or what passes as dancing in these parts. You might call it stomping. James, perhaps you would partner me that we might show the heathens how it’s done?”
    “My pleasure, Mrs. Calhoun.”
    “Good. Come along, Vance.” She snagged her husband’s arm and tugged him after her.
    “How long has Mrs. Calhoun lived in Far Enough?” Gilly asked when they’d gone.
    “All her life. She’s the town barber’s daughter.”
    Gilly burst into laughter. “You’re teasing me.”
    “No. Vance met her when he moved here a few years back.”
    Her humor was infectious, and he grinned when she started laughing again. Until his eyes passed over the fake volumes of books.
    “Gilly, you aren’t going to rob Calhoun.”
    “No, Jim. I admit, I’d consider it under different circumstances, but this cast definitely hinders my style. It’s difficult to be stealthy in one.” She thumped the heel against the floor. “And impossible to fit one in a stirrup. Important when making a getaway.” She grinned.
    He smiled back. The sound of a fiddle and piano awoke in the interior of the house. He didn’t quite feel up to dancing with Margaret Calhoun yet. He wanted to spend time with Gilly. Even after spending four days alone with her, he hadn’t had enough of her company.
    “Let’s go outside for a few minutes,” he suggested, opening the French doors to the porch and offering her his arm.
    Outside the air was sweeter, cooler, and the moonlight brushed her skin with a faint blue glow.
    Gilly hugged herself and rubbed her hands briskly over her upper arms. Jim shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her, his hand brushing the velvet warmth of her shoulders and lingering.
    “Thank you.” Her eyes met his and held his gaze. Something as smooth and intoxicating and fiery as brandy flowed between them. She cleared her throat. “I wish Calhoun had shown us his trophy room. I would have liked to see his firearms.”
    “That’s right. I almost forgot that you’re ‘one of the best shots in the territories.’ ”
    She shook her head, smiling ruefully. She leaned on the railing, looking out over the darkness