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Authors: Jill Gregory

Tags: #romance, #cowboys, #romance adventure, #romance historical, #romance western

Just This Once

BOOK: Just This Once
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Just This Once

Jill Gregory

Praise for
Just This Once

“Refreshing characters, witty dialogue and
adventure...
Just This Once
enthralls, delights,
and captivates, winning readers’ hearts along the way.”

Romantic Times

“Here is another unforgettable story that will keep
you captivated. She has combined the Old West and the elegance of
England into this brilliantly glorious tale. The characters are
undeniably wonderful. Their pains and joys will reach through the
pages and touch your heart.” —
Rendezvous

First published by Dell Publishing, 1997

Copyright 1997 by Jill Gregory

E-book copyright 2012 by Jill Gregory

E-book published by Jill Gregory at
Smashwords, 2012

Cover art by Marsha Canham, 2012

E-book design by A Thirsty Mind, 2012

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

All rights reserved. No part of this book
may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by
any information storage and retrieval system, without the written
permission of the Author, except where permitted by law

Table of Contents

Chapter
1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Excerpt
: Cold Night, Warm
Stranger

About the Author

One

Abilene, Kansas

H
e’s the
one.

Josie peeked out from the saloon’s back
stairs as the tall, handsome cowboy dressed all in black shoved his
chair back from the poker table. He rose up to a magnificent and
most impressive height and scooped up his winnings. Carelessly he
stuck a few bills in his shirt pocket, tucked the rest into a
leather wallet, and then dropped the wallet into his vest pocket
with a series of easy motions that hypnotized her. Actually, it was
the sight of all that money that hypnotized her.

She fairly quivered as she eyed the slightly
bulging vest pocket that nestled against his lean, solid torso.

My, my,
she thought, her mouth nearly
watering.
What I couldn’t do with all that lovely money.

First off, she could buy a train ticket to
New York City—possibly even a first-class ticket—and then steamship
passage to England... and even send some extra to the Magnolia
Sisters United Orphanage in Savannah.

But there was a tiny problem, she conceded,
biting her lip as she crouched unseen in the dimness of the stairs.
She had no doubt from observing the tall cowboy with the silver
belt buckle that he was a gunslinger.

Why, Lord, why does he have to be a
gunslinger?

She watched him carefully, holding her
breath, wondering if she dared, if she really dared to try to pick
his pocket.

You must,
she told herself. You need
that cash to get out of this pesthole of a town and far away from
Snake.

You can’t,
a wise, warning voice
squeaked inside her ear. He’s not a man to be caught dozing.

He was most definitely a gunslinger, she
decided on a sigh as his glance skimmed coolly, indifferently, over
the other men at the poker table. There was something mean and
hungry about him, something cold. She noted his lean bronzed
cheeks, the hard arrogant face, the simple but elegantly cut dark
clothes he wore upon his strapping form. Then there was the leonine
way he moved and the easy way he wore his guns, as if he’d been
born with them.

Oh, yes. A gunslinger. A deadly one, at
that.

Anxiety rippled through her as she weighed
her choices.

The miner at the table still had a pocketful
of coins, she knew, but he looked down on his luck. Her conscience
wouldn’t let her pick the pocket of a man who looked as if he
needed every last dime.

But
this man
was another story.

This man
appeared as if he could
spare some cash, a great deal of cash. And if he was a gun for
hire, well, when his wallet was gone, he’d still have his guns. He
could always hire himself out and earn himself more blood money, or
win it in the next poker game.

So follow him and get it over with. What are
you waiting for?

She crept down the steps, and peeked around
the door as he shouldered his way through the double saloon doors
and out into glittering Kansas sunshine.

Josie figured he was going to get some
shut-eye at last or was on his way to watch the hanging along with
everyone else in town. Either way, she’d better follow close
behind, and find a chance to pluck that stash from his pocket.

“Jo, no, don’t! I know what you’re thinking,
and it’s a big mistake!”

Josie whirled as Rose MacEwen clutched
desperately at her sleeve. Rose was whispering at her
furiously.

“Honey, I know you want to get out of town,
but you’ll get caught. You’ll land in jail. You can’t just—”

“Shhh,” Josie hissed. She peered frantically
over her shoulder to the double doors through which the gunslinger
had disappeared. “Rose, let me go.”

“But, honey—”

“I have to do this!”

“No, you don’t!”

It was hard to believe that she’d only known
Rose MacEwen for two weeks, since she’d arrived in Abilene and
taken a job in the kitchen of the Golden Pistol Saloon and Dance
Hall. Rose, who’d been thrown out of her family’s farmhouse when
she was thirteen, had had a hard life—almost as hard as Josie’s
own. That realization had formed a bond between the two young women
immediately. “He’s got a fat purse, Rose, and that’s all I care
about,” she whispered fiercely as the skinny, pale-haired saloon
girl in the low-cut pink dress opened her mouth to speak again.
“It’ll be all right. Now let me go.”

But Rose’s grip tightened. “I’ll give you
all the money I’ve got—six dollars, maybe seven... and I’m sure
Liza can spare something, too.”

“I don’t take money from my friends, Rose.
Go on upstairs, and don’t you worry. I’ll be fine. All I need is
enough cash to get out of town.”

“But why, Jo, why do you have to leave?”
Plaintively, Rose stared into Josie’s eyes. “First Penny and now
you. Can’t you stay a while longer? I know Judd pays lousy, but
you’re the best cook he’s ever had and business has picked up in
the dance hall since you started fixing the meals—and it’s good
steady work.” As Josie shook her head Rose plunged on. “And there’s
a lot of men who come through the Golden Pistol. If you started
dancing with us more regular, too, instead of just filling in, you
might find some feller who wants to marry you—”

“I’ve been married, Rose, and I’m never
making that mistake again!” Impatiently, Josie shook free of the
girl’s grasp. “Look, the less you know about my leaving town the
better,” she added in a low tone. “If anyone asks, you never saw
me. I’ll say good-bye before I leave, don’t you worry. But now I
have to go and catch that hombre.”

There was no mistaking her determination.
Rose sighed in defeat and shook her head as Josie squeezed her
hand, then dodged past her, rushing through the rear door.

She darted around the alleyway and scanned
the main street. It was now teeming noisily with excited men,
women, and children come to watch the hanging, but to Josie’s
relief, she spotted the tall gunslinger almost immediately. He had
paused at the edge of the crowd, a little apart, definitely
aloof.

BOOK: Just This Once
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