A Western Romance novella
Cait Braxton (aka Keta Diablo)
About Catherine's Cowboy
On the run from her vicious Kiowa husband, Catherine seeks shelter from a raging dust storm when labor begins. Fate steps in when a retired army tracker also seeks refuge from the elements and stumbles upon the same ramshackle dwelling.
Elam helps Catherine deliver her child and a strong bond forms between them. But outside, biding his time until the squall passes someone longs to claim both of their lives and take what is rightfully his…the child.
Elam thought he was prepared for anything when he kicked in the door to the miner’s shack. Apparently, he wasn’t. The last thing he expected to encounter was a woman in the last throes of labor. Her sweat-soaked body and pain-filled eyes pitched him back to a time he didn’t want to revisit. Life had a strange way of kicking a man in the ass when he least expected it. Best that man must rise to the occasion, do what he must to get through it rather than piss and moan ‘why me’?
He knew the woman was Kiowa, or marked by the Kiowa, the moment he laid eyes on her. No, wait; he couldn’t toss her into a class with all women. Despite the hardships she must have endured while living in their camp, the word woman didn’t do her justice. This female was sin and sorrow rolled into one, the worst combination God ever created.
Like a veil of gossamer silk, her black hair hung in waves about her shoulders. A belt of mountain lion fur clung to her protruded abdomen; the Kiowa’s way of telling the world she’s with child. Dark circles shadowed her anguished eyes, eyes that reminded him of the violet gentian busting through the outcrops near the Rockies. One look into those depthless orbs and any man would wonder who dropped the angel from the clouds. Perfection. Ethereal beauty personified.
The cloying scents of earth, white sage and musk radiated off her body when she placed her hands on his shoulders. Her chest heaving with effort and pain, she hissed the words through teeth that were whiter than sun-bleached linen. “Your name, tell me your name.”
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