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

and a shrewd intelligence. The least vain man she knew, he was also the most capable. Nothing she’d seen in her life was more appealing than his big, mature body, his rumpled silver-shot hair, the laugh lines radiating from blue eyes that had seen more than enough and yet still remained open, looking for more.
    She knew better than to hope. Once she’d thought that after Lightning Lil had disappeared, Gillian Jones would live happily ever after. She’d given up on that notion years ago. But now Jim Coyne had resurrected dreams she was better off without. Yet, with every step she took, with every act she planned, she killed every potential that that dream could survive.
    “You’re slowing down,” Jim said. “Are you tired? Do you want to stop and rest?”
    “No. I’m fine. I just—”
    “Jim Coyne!” A voice boomed from the door of the Cattleman’s Saloon. A huge, neckless, bald-pated man stepped out of the smoky haze and marched stiff-legged down the walkway, directly toward them.
    Jim pulled Gilly closer to him.
    “Friend of yours?” Gilly asked.
    “I’ve never seen that man in my life. I would remember.”
    “I’m sure you would,” she agreed.
    “Jim Coyne, you are going to rue the day your sorry ass landed in Far Enough, Texas!” the gargantuan bellowed.
    “I already do,” Jim said over his shoulder, turning and shepherding Gilly down the steps onto the street.
    They were almost to the center of the street when the hulking man called, “Stop right there, you lily- livered pantywaist!”
    Jim didn’t stop. Wise, wise, wonderful man, Gilly thought happily.
    “Gutless wonder!”
    He kept marching.
    “Course, I might be running, too, if’n I had a wife like that. Maybe after I’m done with you, Coyne, I’ll just comfort the widow. Nice piece of—”
    Jim spun around. “Do not say it.”
    Gilly ground her teeth in frustration. “He didn’t say anything.”
    The gargantuan, who’d followed them out onto the street, stopped and chuckled. Curiosity seekers, alerted to the possibility of entertainment by the bull-like man’s shouts, began drifting out of various saloons and buildings and forming an impromptu circle around them. Among their number was Mort James, who, on seeing Jim, hastened forward.
    “Who is that guy?” Jim asked him.
    “Ox. I warned you about him, remember? Tommy’s uncle?”
    “Oh, yeah.”
    “Let’s go, Jim,” Gilly urged, tugging his arm.
    “I’m gonna teach you to mess with my kin.” Ox smiled. More of a baring of broken teeth than a real smile, but Gilly supposed it was as close an approximation as he could manage. She tugged harder.
    “Listen, Ox,” Jim said, “those kids jumped me. Whole thing was over in a few minutes.”
    “You broke my nephew’s nose.” Ox took off his shirt and threw it on the ground. Muscles bulged like knotty gourds beneath an oily layer of flesh.
    “Oh, come on,” Jim protested. “It wasn’t anything special to begin with.”
    “I’m gonna tear you apart, New York City man.”
    Jim emitted a gusty sigh and peeled Gilly’s fingers from his coat. The Carmichael twins appeared at the far side of the crowd, their little eyes gleaming with battle fever.
    “Hey, Mrs. Coyne!” one of them shouted, waving her plumed headdress high above the crowd. “How you doin’, sugar? I got me ten bucks says your husband there beats the hell outta old Ox!” She beamed like that bit of news was supposed to make Gilly feel better.
    “No,” Gilly said, yanking at Jim’s arm. The din of the crowd had risen and Ox was flexing his muscles. Jim glanced down at her.
    “Mort,” he said, “she doesn’t want to see this.”
    Mort nodded. Ignoring her protests, he grabbed Gilly’s arm and began dragging her away. Jim let him do it, casting a look after her that said in no uncertain terms that he’d just as soon someone were hauling him away, too. His expression awoke her worst fears.
    Even though they looked to be near the same age, Jim was