Hero For Hire Read online

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  The Wild Rose Press

  www.thewildrosepress.com

  Copyright ©2008 by Sherrie Kelley and Donna Smith

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Hero For Hire

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A word about the author...

  Thank you for purchasing

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  Savannah's gaze focused on the candy stick, then flew upward; her stunning blue eyes widened in recognition. “Mac! What—"

  "No, no, honey,” Mac said quickly, placing a finger on her lips. “Let's not talk about it. I've told the sheriff what happened ... that we had an argument, and that you couldn't possibly have anything to do with that bank robbery."

  "But, Mac—"

  "Now that he realizes you're my wife, he'll have to let you go."

  "But, Mac—"

  Mac grabbed her arms and hauled her against him, shocking her silent. His first body-to-body contact with Savannah momentarily stunned him as well. She was firm, yet soft, and felt oh-so-good against him. Better than his wildest dreams, and he'd plenty of those in the last few years.

  He gazed meaningfully into her wide eyes, hoping she wouldn't notice his even more shocking reaction to her nearness. His voice low and vibrant with emotion, he said, “It scares the hell out of me to think of you in danger, as you must have been during that bank robbery.” It was the truth; it did scare the hell out of him to think of Savannah in the midst of violence. “So what do you say, darling? Shall we kiss and make up?"

  A HEART UNTAMED: “This delightful, light-hearted comedy with an undertone of seriousness floats like a fluffy cloud across an azure sky of romance.” ~Affaire de Coeur

  THE LOVE LESSON: “The Love Lesson is an entertaining western romance that features several enjoyable characters. Sub-genre fans will quickly realize that Sheridon Smythe is a wonderful new force who is providing readers with pleasurable novels. ~Harriet Klausner

  HERO FOR HIRE: “Don't miss this tender love story, which makes you wish Mac and Savannah lived next door. A great story, great characters and a great ending.” ~Old Book Barn review

  WHERE THE HEART IS: “Putting this book down was hard to do, especially with the way the characters come to life, making it seem as if you truly are standing there with them. Where the Heart Is will spirit you through an emotional roller coaster ride that you won't soon forget.” ~Affaire de Coeur

  MR. COMPLETE: “Sprinkled liberally with laugh-out-loud scenes, and not one but several yummy hunks, this fast-paced story will keep you engrossed to the last page.” ~Romantic Times

  "HOT NUMBER moves at a fast pace, and gives us lots of chuckles ... a great read that any fan of contemporary romance won't want to miss.” ~A Romance Review

  THOSE BABY BLUES: (Romantic Times Top Pick!) “A compelling, sexy romp that leaves you smiling!” ~Christine Feehan, New York Times bestselling author

  A PERFECT FIT: “Lots of good chuckles and a modern relationship that goes from zero to racing speed in seconds flat.” ~Romantic Times

  MR. HYDE'S ASSETS: “A warmhearted and charming tale of secrets, lies and true love.” ~Romantic Times

  Hero For Hire

  by

  Sheridon Smythe

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Hero For Hire

  COPYRIGHT ©

  2008 by Sherrie Kelley and Donna Smith

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Nicola Martinez

  The Wild Rose Press

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Crimson Rose Edition, 2008

  Print ISBN 1-60154-426-X

  Published in the United States of America

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter One

  1892, Angel Creek, South Carolina

  Angel Creek Bank was an easy target, especially to someone familiar with the layout.

  Pulling the dusty bandana over his mouth and nose, Mackenzy Cord pushed through the glass doors of the bank and strode with easy assurance across the shiny, massive floor to the counter. The sharp clicking of his boots announced his approach, but there was no help for it.

  "Raise your hands, nice and slow, and you won't get hurt."

  The low, menacing voice he used startled the bank teller. The teller lifted his hands high, backing away from the cash he'd been counting. For a long moment, they studied each other across the window ledge.

  One corner of the teller's handle-bar mustache began to twitch.

  Laughing, Mac yanked the concealing bandana from his mouth and chin. “How in the hell do you always know it's me?"

  It was a game they'd played a hundred times over the years. Telly Kramer had worked alongside Mac's father at Silver Creek bank for twenty years before his death. As a young boy, Mac had often accompanied his father to work, sweeping the massive floors to earn a few pennies for candy, and generally making a nuisance of himself until his father sent him home.

  Telly tried to look affronted as he adjusted his black bow tie. “I didn't know. One of these days, my ticker's going to give out, and you're going to feel bad for scaring an old man to death."

  "Hogwash.” Mac laid his money purse on the counter and shoved it forward. “I'd like that added to my savings account, please."

  Hefting it in his hand, Telly let out a low whistle. “Feels like you've got a good haul this time, Mac."

  Mac shrugged. “I did all right.” Bounty hunting was hard, lonely work, but with the money he made, his savings account had grown steadily over the past few years. Still, it wasn't fast enough to suit Mac.

  He had plans—big plans—that involved a certain banker's daughter with honey-gold hair and violet blue eyes.

  "Who'd you catch this time? An
yone I know?"

  "You remember the train robbery a few months back?"

  "You mean, the Cowgil brothers? The ones that shot poor old Cooter because he wouldn't leave the engine room?” When Mac nodded, Telly looked impressed. “No wonder you got a good haul. I heard the railroad was offering a two-hundred dollar reward for that pair of dogs."

  "Yes.” Mac's jaw hardened. When he'd caught up with them, both brothers had proudly confessed to the murder, although there had only been one fatal shot fired. After a week of listening to their bickering about who had killed the poor engineer, Mac had been more than glad to hand them over to the sheriff.

  "How much have I got?” Mac asked abruptly.

  Telly reached beneath the counter and withdrew a leather-bound ledger. He consulted the book, figuring in the two-hundred dollar deposit. “Look's like eight thousand, two hundred and twenty dollars."

  A few more jobs, Mac swiftly calculated, and he could give up bounty hunting. He planned to sell his modest childhood home, buy a bigger house and take over Sheriff Cannon's job when he retired. The mayor had already assured him of the position, and if he were careful, the rest of his savings would supplement his sheriff's salary for a good many years.

  The only thing left was to convince Savannah Carrington to become his wife.

  Mac refused to dwell too much on the fact that to date Savannah didn't have the slightest notion of his plans. When he did think about it, he got a cold knot of fear in his gut.

  So he tried not to think about it. Whatever it took, Mac was determined to win Savannah's heart and make her his wife. From the moment she had shyly offered to share her candy stick with him at the age of ten, he'd known Savannah was the only woman for him.

  "Oh, I nearly forgot,” Telly said, glancing from side to side before leaning foward. “Mr. Carrington said to let him know the moment you get back into town. He's got a serious matter to discuss with you ... about Savannah."

  Mac stiffened. “Is she all right?"

  "Yes, yes.” Telly fiddled with the ends of his mustache as he added mysteriously, “Well, I suppose she is. Mr. Carrington will fill you in. He's in his office now."

  Glancing at his dusty clothes, Mac hesitated. “I need a bath."

  "Hm. I agree, but I think in this instance Mr. Carrington will hardly notice."

  The gravity of his statement sent Mac spinning on his heels. Striding across the gleaming floor, he paused in front of the door to George Carrington's office and knocked. His mouth had gone desert dry as his imagination took flight. Something had happened to Savannah, his true love, his future wife—

  "Come in!"

  At Carrington's impatient call, Mac opened the door and stepped into the office. His boots sank into plush carpet, but Mac hardly noticed.

  George Carrington, a short man who had lost sight of his waist years ago, sat behind a massive oak desk with his chin propped upon steepled fingers. His eyes, which Mac knew were as blue as Savannah's, were closed tight.

  In the four months since Mac had last seen him, the banker had aged. Dark circles beneath his eyes added a gaunt look to his usually florid face, and there were lines there Mac swore hadn't been there four months ago.

  Mac's apprehension deepened. “Mr. Carrington?"

  The banker's eyes shot open; Mac noted they were bloodshot and puffy. For a moment, Carrington stared at Mac as if he didn't trust his vision.

  "Mac? Thank God, you're back! And not a moment too soon, either. Come in, come in! Have yourself a seat."

  As Mac took the leather chair in front of the desk, Carrington moved to a sideboard against the wall and poured amber liquid into a glass. He paused and lifted a brow in Mac's direction. When Mac shook his head, the banker tipped the glass against his mouth and drained the whisky in a single swallow.

  Now Mac knew the reason for the blood shot eyes. Yes, something was very, very wrong, for he'd never known Carrington to be a drinking man.

  To hell with subtlety: he had to know. “Is it Savannah?” he demanded, jamming his hat onto his knee. Every muscle in his body felt tight and anxious.

  Carrington filled his glass again and resumed his seat at the desk. “Yes, it's about Savannah. You see, the wedding was to take place next Saturday."

  Around the sudden, painful lump in his throat, Mac sucked in a slow breath. “Savannah's?"

  "Yes.” The banker nearly spilled his drink as he aimed for his mouth.

  He's drunk, Mac decided dazedly, wondering if hearts really could break. “I think you've had a little too much to drink, Carrington.” With every fiber of his being, he prayed that he was right, that Carrington's announcement was the ranting of a drunken lunatic.

  "Damn right I've had too much,” Carrington snapped. “You'd drink too if your only daughter were off gallivanting with God knows what type of riffraff!"

  "Savannah's gone?” More confused than ever, Mac struggled to make sense of his words.

  "Gone! Ran off. Left me a note saying she'd never come back to Angel Creek.” Carrington bit back a muffled curse and drained the glass again. He wiped an unsteady hand across his mouth. “It's my fault. I should have listened to her, instead of ignoring her concerns and pushing her to marry Jon Paul DeMent."

  Mac's heart gave a hopeful leap. “She doesn't want to get married?"

  Morosely, Carrington stared into his empty glass. “No, she doesn't. Told me so, but I wouldn't listen.” Tears glistened in the older man's eyes as he continued. “I was afraid for her, Mac. When I die, she's going to inherit a lot of money. I want her married to someone I can trust before that happens."

  Keeping his voice steady with an effort, Mac said, “And you think you can trust DeMent?” Mac had only met him a few times, but he wasn't impressed by the man's air of superiority towards others—including himself. He couldn't imagine kind-hearted Savannah attracted to a man like DeMent.

  "DeMent's the son of my friend and colleague. I've known him since he was a little boy."

  Just like you've known me, Mac thought. Although he liked Carrington well enough—the banker had always been kind to him and his father—Mac knew the man was a bit of a snob; he would never consider Mac for a son-in-law. Mac hoped that changing jobs would go a long way in changing the banker's way of thinking.

  Carrington's slurred, yet urgent voice snagged Mac's attention.

  "Mac, I want you to find her and bring her back. I know your reputation as a bounty hunter, and I know you can do it."

  "And if she doesn't want to come back?” Mac asked softly. At twenty-two, Savannah was old enough to make her own decisions, and the thought of forcing her to do anything against her will left a nasty taste in his mouth. In fact, he didn't blame Savannah for leaving.

  The hands that Carrington clasped together trembled visibly. “If you bring her to me safe and sound—by any means—I'll pay you five thousand dollars."

  Despite himself, Mac nearly choked at the amount. “That's a hell of a lot of money."

  "To get the opportunity to right the wrong I've done Savannah, I'd do anything—I'd pay a hundred times that much!"

  It hit Mac then, a brilliant idea, a plan that might get Carrington and himself exactly what they wanted. All he would need was Carrington's agreement and Savannah's cooperation. The first he felt confident he could get; the other he could work on during the long trip back to Angel Creek once he found Savannah.

  He leaned forward, mentally bracing himself for Carrington's reaction. “If I can convince Savannah to come home ... and if she'll have me, will you give us your blessing?"

  Carrington's well-padded jaw dropped to his chest. Finally, he worked it closed. "You want to marry Savannah?” He flushed as he realized how Mac might interpret his disbelief. “I didn't mean—what I mean is, are you certain?"

  Mac had never been good at sharing himself with others. Even Telly, whom he considered his closest friend, didn't know about his yearnings for Savannah Carrington. So it was with great reluctance that Mac confessed, “Yes, I'm certai
n. I've been saving money, planning to court Savannah and convince her to become my wife.” He could do nothing about the flush that crept into his neck and face, but to compensate, he thrust out a proud chin. “I've wanted to marry Savannah from the moment I first laid eyes on her."

  "Well.” Carrington was still in shock. “No wonder Savannah balked at marrying Jon Paul! She never mentioned a word to—"

  "That's because she doesn't know,” Mac inserted in a low, embarrassed voice.

  "Doesn't...” The banker frowned and cleared his throat. “Has she given you any indication of her affections?"

  "We've been friends for many years.” Mac's flush deepened at Carrington's logical question. What had sounded good in his mind, sounded feeble and ridiculous spoken aloud. Mac could just imagine what Carrington must be thinking. To cover the awkward moment, he said gruffly, “The way I see it, you have nothing to lose. If I succeed, then you not only get your daughter back, you won't have to worry about what happens to her after you die."

  "Mac, you're a good man, and I had the highest respect for your father, but bounty hunting is rough, dangerous work—"

  "I plan to take over Sheriff Cannon's job next Spring, and I've got eight thousand dollars in the bank. I can buy a decent house with that kind of money, with plenty left to see to Savannah's needs.” Mac looked Carrington dead in the eye in a challenge the other man could hardly mistaken. “Does that address all of your concerns, sir?"

  Mac would have been a lot happier if Carrington's hesitation hadn't lasted a full moment, and if the banker hadn't sounded so damned unhappy when he did get around to answering.

  "Like you said, I've guess I've got nothing to lose by agreeing."

  "Then it's a deal?” Mac held his breath. Even without Carrington's blessing, he planned to pursue Savannah, but his blessing would be a bonus.

  "That depends on Savannah, doesn't it? I won't make the same mistake by trying to push her into another marriage."

  "I'm glad you see that it was a mistake,” Mac said, stung by Carrington's not-so-subtle doubt that Savannah might not want to marry him.