The three sprang from their seats around Doc’s warm stove, and Daniel’s gun rested in his palm before he’d even thought to pull it from the leather holster buckled on his hip. He strode straight for the door, but Fannie beat him to it, her hand closing around the doorknob under his.
Their gazes locked, and he tightened his grip around her slender fingers. Where did the fool woman think she was going?
“You need to stay inside and let me handle this,
Her chin jutted forward and she squinted.
“The only man who gets to tell me what to do around these parts is my granddaddy. I’ve lived in Cold Spring my entire life and gotten along just fine. If someone out there is in trouble, I aim to help.”Click the link below to read the rest of
Written Fireside: Be Mine, Marshal