Charly Sinclair came to Paradise Pines with hopes of a new life -- a life free to fulfill her dream. The town's livery owner would not let women drive his stagecoaches, so she changed. She portrayed herself as a man.
Robbed of the Wells Fargo money box by a gang of thieves, her secret threatens to take everything important away from her. To bring the outlaws to justice, Charly teams up with the one man who makes her wish she hadn't hid the fact she's really a woman. Braden MacGregor might be bullheaded and rough around all the wrong edges, but he just so happens to be the man who sets her blood to boiling. When the truth is revealed, can she bring herself to forgive him for firing her for being a woman?
To make all her dreams come true, Charly must make Braden respect the woman she is, as much as the man he thought her to be.
Matt studied her a moment. "No, but don't you even think about going after them. I am well aware of your reputation with a gun but--"
She jumped up, which knocked the chair backwards. "Don't even think about stopping me."
He stood, towering several inches over her. "Don't push me. If I have to, I'll lock you up for your own good."
His heavy-handed tone cut through her outrage, sparking a surge of indignation. "I can shoot the eye off a gnat at a hundred paces, even wearing a patch on my left eye."
"Don't argue with me, Charly. The answer is still no. Go grab a beer. Your wounded pride will heal. You'll think clearer in the morning." Matt snatched her hat off his desk and stuck his finger through the hole in the crown. "You might be thanking your maker the guy's aim ain't as good as yours."
She shuddered at the near miss. Another inch and she wouldn't have known how this day ended.
"Lucky shot." She grabbed the hat from his hand and plopped it on her head. "I am not done jawing about this with you yet, but that wet one is tempting." She picked up the poster and folded it. When she stopped at the tollhouses tomorrow, she would show it to their employees. Maybe one of them could give her information as to where the Westons might be hiding out. She tipped her hat and left the sheriff's office.
In the early evening hours, Trick's Saloon became a haven for ruffians and misfits. She headed across Main Street with her thoughts on a cool one. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. Today was no different from any other day. Her slight stature left her wide open to crude remarks. Over time, Charly had grown immune to the reaction her appearance in the saloon caused. All the rude comments quieted back down until she ordered the beer.