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The Bounty Hunter's Bride

By Janis Jakes

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Sweat dotted Luke’s brow, trickling down his temples in a ragged trail. If there’d been a hotter day in West Texas, he couldn’t recall when. His swollen tongue clung to the roof of his mouth. Sticky granules of sand peppered his cheeks. Not a single tree in sight and only one watering hole for miles—the perfect place to capture a criminal.

Looked like a kid off in the distance but ‚wanted dead or alive‛ let Luke know to keep his guard up. Pistol in hand, he watched the lone figure—wondering what the kid would do next. Predicting the mind of an outlaw wasn’t easy, especially one who was likely hotheaded.

The young man rested on his knees at the water’s edge. He cupped his hands, bent to drink, and pulled off his hat. Copper hair tumbled down in a thick braid, stopping an inch or so above a slender waist.

Luke blinked.

The outlaw turned sideways, revealing curves. Confusion overtook Luke’s rational thoughts. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. Maybe the desert heat was playing tricks on him. He looked again. Had the figure disappeared? He glanced toward the ground, rubbing his eyes once more.

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