An Old Fashioned Romance

From Sweet Cherry Ray by Marcia Lynn McClure

“Why would ya care if I ‘took up with Pinky Chitter,’ as you put it?” he asked.

“Black Jack will kill ya if ya do.”

“Pinky Chitter’s a…a…”

“A harlot,” she said.

“That’s one word for it, yes…and I’m sure Black Jack knows it.  So why would it matter if…”

It matters to me, Cherry wanted to scream!  Instead she told the second truth.  “But yer one she might fancy enough to leave him for,” she explained.  “And Black Jack would shoot ya dead cold for it.  So—so that’s why I was in the barrel.  I wanted to make sure ya weren’t doin’ somethin’ that might get ya killed.”

“You were in the barrel because ya were lookin’ out for me?”

“Yes,” she said.  She thought his expression softened some.

“Well,” he began, “I don’t need nobody lookin’ out for me, Cherry Ray.”

But I don’t want you with her, Cherry’s silent voice screamed inside her head.  Instead she said, “But Black Jack will drop you in the street if…”

“But since you were lookin’ out for me,” he interrupted, “I mean…hidin’ in a barrel in yer pretty pink Sunday dress and all…I guess the least I can do is to thank ya proper.”  Cherry’s eyes widened as he took hold of her arms with strong hands and pulled her closer to him.  “And…after all…you are just about the best female shooter I ever did see.  I guess that deserves somethin’ as well.”

She held her breath as his head descended toward hers.  He meant to kiss her!  He did!  Her entire body erupted with goose bumps—the butterflies in her stomach increased a hundred fold!

“I—I ain’t scared of you,” she stammered.  “I won’t run this time if that’s what yer thinkin’.”

“Oh, I’m countin’ on the fact that ya won’t, Cherry Ray,” he said, his dark eyes burning with devilish intent.  Taking her face between his powerful hands he mumbled, “I’m countin’ on it.”

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