West of Paradise by Marcy Hatch Page A

But he never really liked killing people. There had only been two occasions when he had done so without provocation, both times at Alanna’s request.
    Damn, she was no good. He should’ve known that the second he saw her in that alley, should’ve turned around and walked away as fast as possible. Sometimes he even imagined what might have happened if he had. But if he were honest, things would probably have been pretty much the same. He was always restless. His ma always said he’d never stay in one place. Fate, that’s what it was. Just plain old fate.
    And with that, Will set his mind and took another swallow, giving the mare a nudge. I’m coming, Alanna , he thought. Coming to settle up .

Chapter Seven
Interlude
    K atherine stared at the tiny flickering flame, glad for the bit of light it offered though still damp from finding it. Jack had insisted she accompany him in the search for a lamp, and she suspected he’d done this out of more than distrust. The man had a nasty side to him, one that enjoyed inflicting misery. She wondered if it was just her or if he treated all the people he brought in the same way.
    She had followed him in silence, not giving him the satisfaction of a protest, and waded through the muddied streets to the general store. At first she was surprised to find things still on the shelves: canned goods, a box of ribbons, small bolts of moth eaten cloth, and an assortment of bottles containing God knew what. The labels were too faded to read but she guessed they were somebody’s special recipe, guaranteed to cure all sorts of ailments. Most of it was useless and not worth carting away but they had found the lamp in the back, lying on its side, glass shattered but with enough oil to see them part way through the night. Katherine had also found a wooden toothbrush, still in its original packaging, which she snatched up and pocketed.
    Now, with the dark upon them, she was glad for the light. Glad too for the whiskey that had lent some warmth to her body and lulled her into a state she generally avoided. She would pay for it in the morning, she knew, but at least for the moment there was a respite from the choking fear.
    Jack sat at her side, the blanket from his horse beneath them. He had said little since their return to the hotel’s kitchen, and she wished he would talk. She had tried to draw him out but her questions had been met with short, sullen answers. He was probably afraid to talk to her, afraid to know any more about her than what he already thought. If he did then he might begin to believe her.
    She looked toward the window, hearing the rain that still fell and the wind, whistling at times and rattling the glass. The flame in the lamp danced with the drafts, sending shadows up the walls and growing smaller with each passing moment. Katherine let her head rest against the wall, shivering as a gust blew in through the place. Oh yes, that stove would be nice about now , she thought, not that she’d give Jack the satisfaction of telling him. He’d just gloat and say, ‘I told you so.’
    Maybe she could pull the ropes loose with her teeth later, after Jack had fallen asleep, but she doubted she’d be able to stay awake that long. Already her eyes were beginning to close of their own accord and even the uncomfortable chill could not keep the drowsiness away. As she drifted off she mumbled a last plea, but if Jack responded she never heard it, sinking into dreams of the sea.
    ❧
    Jack opened his mouth to respond but saw she’d already gone and was slowly leaning toward him. An urge to shove her away was quickly replaced by resignation, and he let her fall against him.
    Damn her , he thought, hating the memories that conflicted so with the woman at his side. She was just as pretty as he remembered, enough so that it was hard not think about how she looked back in the hotel room. He had said he’d seen better but that wasn’t true. Maybe in magazines but not in real life, up close. Her