Today's Reading
CHAPTER ONE
June 1874
A fist slamming against the door startled Beth Ellen Hart. She shrieked and dropped the china bowl she was washing, which shattered on the floor.
"Get out here! I want answers!" a man's voice shouted. He sounded furious.
Gretel came running into the room. They exchanged frightened looks.
Ellie grabbed the gun Zane kept on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard.
The shouting and slamming went on as Ellie marched to the kitchen door, determined to drive off whoever was assaulting her house. That was her favorite bowl!
"Wait!" Gretel rushed to her side, snatched up the Winchester 73 rifle from over the back door and stepped to the side. "Stay out of my line of fire."
Ellie nodded, then shoved back the latch on the door and jerked it open. The stranger's fist, which had been aiming at the door, missed hitting her in the nose by inches. She ducked out of the way so swiftly she fell over backward. Her gun went sailing.
A cracking sound from behind her was Gretel cocking Zane's Winchester.
The man stepped into the kitchen and reached down for Ellie.
"Zuruckbleiben du, schmutzig schurke," she said.
He opened his mouth, probably to shout some more, then clamped his jaw shut. Gretel tended to lapse into German under stress, and that drew his attention—that and the rifle pointed at his chest. He straightened away from Ellie and stared at Gretel.
Ellie scrambled to her feet, ran for the gun she'd dropped, and aimed it again at the man, who stood there looking addled. She was well away from Gretel, so they had him at the point of a triangle.
Ellie had no idea what Gretel had said but could guess and added her own warning. "Get off my land."
The man was not overly tall, five-foot-nine or so, with dark curly hair under an odd, round hat with a narrow brim. He wore a dusty suit of clothes that looked to be many years old. Clean-shaven with blue eyes that shot lightning at her.
He saw the guns and didn't attack if that was his plan.
"Where are my brothers?" He was still mad, snapping at them, face taut and fists clenched. But he stayed put. "I'm not leaving here without them."
That was when Josh stepped up behind the man. "Do I need to send for the sheriff?"
It was a bluff. The sheriff would be unable to get to their ranch for about an hour, and that was if they sent a man for Dorada Rio, the closest town to their northern California ranch, on a galloping horse, found the sheriff immediately and rode straight back at full speed. And Ellie wasn't about to hold this man at gunpoint for that long.
"Talk, mister," Ellie said. "What do you mean barging into my house like this?"
"He punched Ellie, Josh. Knocked her to the floor." Gretel's hands trembled on the heavy rifle.
Josh shoved the man forward. "Sit down."
He took the gun from Gretel and pointed the barrel toward the floor. "You punched my sister?"
"I don't want to sit down. And no, I did not punch your sister. I was knocking on the door. She pulled it open and was in the way. I—"
"You're not going to tell me that my sister hit you right in your fist with her face, are you?" Josh said it as if he were the very voice of doom.
"I did not hit her—I would never hit a woman. She ducked and stumbled back and fell." The man's blue eyes shifted to Ellie. "Tell him I didn't hit you."
...
