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- Herausgeber: Amber Aames
- Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
- Sprache: Englisch
Gunslinger Clint Driscoll is just passing through Primrose Valley when he crosses paths with Sarah Mullins. She needs help protecting herself against an overzealous suitor, and he soon realizes the entire town needs assistance. Caught in the grasp of a robber baron and his men, the people are suffering. They need someone to stand up and challenge Oliver Jameson and his men, but is Clint the man for the job? He's spent the years since the war doing what he's paid to do, but does Primrose Valley offer a chance for a gunslinger's redemption, and will Sarah open his closed heart?
Primrose Valley is an ongoing series of sweet western romances, where the town and people will continue to develop with each new addition to the series. Each story will focus on a different couple while deepening the storyline and enhancing the characters’ story arcs at the same time as allowing readers to get an ever-deepening look at the town and the people who comprise it.
Das E-Book können Sie in Legimi-Apps oder einer beliebigen App lesen, die das folgende Format unterstützen:
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021
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Gunslinger’s Redemption
Primrose Valley
Amber Aames
Amber Aames reserves all rights to this story and the intellectual property within.
©2020, Amber Aames
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
About the Author
Chapter One
“Easy there, Ghost,” said Clint as he patted the neck of his horse. The stallion was antsy as they rode into the town of Primrose Valley. They’d spent most of the last two weeks out on the range, trailing a bounty he’d finally caught and dropped in Boise, and the horse probably didn’t like all the people that came with a return to civilization, such as it was. Clint couldn’t blame him, preferring his solitude as well, but he and the horse both needed supplies, and he could do with a couple shots of whiskey and a real bed before he moved on.
The town was neatly arranged, all the buildings whitewashed with splashes of color here and there. Hand-lettered signs hung on several buildings, and the small town appeared to be bustling.
As he rode past a neat yellow building with white trim, he saw a sign indicating it was a boarding house, but he could tell in a single glance they wouldn’t rent to him. There were three young ladies seated on the porch, doing various projects involving sewing or yarn, and they were the epitome of respectable.
He could imagine the reception he’d get if he stopped there to request a room. They’d take one look at his dusty leather coat, six-shooter, and grizzled visage and turn him away. He rode on past without bothering to stop, not reining in Ghost until he saw a familiar sign labeled Saloon.
They were likely to have rooms as well, so he took the horse in that direction, stopping by the hitching post. He wound the reins around the wood while Ghost dipped his head to drink out of the trough. He’d have to board the horse, but he needed to secure a room first.
He entered the saloon, and it was a familiar sight, like any other he’d frequented since coming west. The clientele were mostly men, though there were a couple of saloon girls circulating. One was serving drinks, and the other was seated on the lap of a man who looked like he’d had a few too many meals. Perhaps a few too many meals belonging to a few too many people.
He strained the seams of the shirt he wore, the pearl buttons looking like they might pop at any moment. Clint felt a wave of sympathy wash over him for the poor saloon girl having to feign enthusiasm for her perch on his lap. The man was no doubt someone important in town, judging by the stack of chips he had in front of him, and the disgruntled looks of those surrounding him at his table as they played poker.
He bypassed that table and all the others, going straight to the bar. “Whiskey please.”
