Jocelyn’s parents thought her sister had possibly followed Dean to his hometown of Enclave. They insisted Jocelyn drop everything to chase Jenna down, rip her away from her shiftless boyfriend with his supposedly bad influence, and bring her back home pronto. Her parents—well her father anyway—was convinced that Dean would eventually end up here to try and get money from his “people” since the financial boon Jenna begged for had been refused.
Since Jocelyn worked for herself as a computer security specialist and didn’t have a
real job
or a
husband
, according to her parents, they expected her to
drop everything
without notice at their behest on a regular basis. Usually, the request had something to do with what they considered her sister’s inappropriate behavior. In other words, not doing exactly what their parents wanted. But Jocelyn didn’t know Dean very well, certainly not enough to trust him to care long-term for her sister. Jenna hadn’t been in contact for the entire time she’d been gone. Which was unusual. So Jocelyn dropped everything once again to search for Jenna.
The hunt for her sister, and/or Dean, had so far been a frustrating, stressful journey. She’d offered to pay for a private detective, but her parents went totally ballistic over that suggestion. It was
her
duty,
her
responsibility. She searched their hometown locally, and used her skills with her computer as well with no discernible results before grudgingly agreeing to a road trip.
After arriving yesterday in Enclave, she’d searched at a couple of seemingly busy places, asking for her sister and showing her picture. Nothing. Also, no one in the small contemporary town knew anything about Dean or his family. At least not the few places she’d looked. And to be fair, she obviously didn’t possess the skills a private detective had. Her
authority
in this matter was extremely limited anyway. No one was obligated to talk to or give information to the frustrated sister of a wayward of-age woman.
Still, she checked into the local motel for a few nights to do some further checking around the town. She’d have to report back to her parents with the minute details of everything she’d tried to find Jenna. Jocelyn would tell them everything with the exception of one thing. Her additional covert reason for coming here.
The secret part of this unplanned trip had to do with the Old West Town park. Jocelyn was a huge history buff. She especially loved learning about the American Old West. After researching, prior to her trip, Jocelyn acquainted herself with the local recreational activities.
The Old West Town historical-themed fair parking lot, with its tall, well-worn wooden fence shielding the replica town beyond, had a stagecoach waiting for customers wanting an authentic taste of the Old West. They were only open Friday through Monday each week. So if she didn’t go today, she might not be in town when they reopened at the end of the week.
Besides, she decided a day off was in order for her overall sanity. Nothing put her in a stressful and frustrated mood faster than her parents demanding she drop the reins of her life to obtain something for them or to go chasing after her sister. Making this a two-for-one special anxiety journey. She deserved a day to herself. She was taking it.
For a little bit extra paid on her ticket, she’d enjoy the rough ride of the time period’s land travel as the settlers and visitors to the Wild West had once done. The horses attached to the replica stagecoach stamped the ground and blew out white clouds of breath into the crisp air as if in anticipation of making a familiar run into town.
Jocelyn couldn’t help the eager little tingle registering in her chest as she climbed the few tall steps into the carriage. It swayed to accept her—the final passenger—inside. She settled on a red leather seat next to the open window and a canoodling couple. Across from her were three teenagers, two boys and a girl, who looked bored but sent their gazes around at the inner décor of the coach, before snapping pictures with their smartphones and promptly ignoring all else around them to post it in the black hole of the Internet for their friends and family.
Nagging guilt tugged at the edge of her mind at the thought of family, since she was here in Enclave to find her sister, and not exactly for entertainment. At nineteen, Jenna lived her budding adulthood more like a fifteen-year-old acting out because she was unable to do absolutely everything she wanted whenever she wanted however she wanted, much to Jocelyn’s regret.
Jenna was a little bit spoiled by the benefit of being ten years Jocelyn’s junior and the baby of the family. As older sister, her job had always been to keep an eye on Jenna. Most recently she’d failed miserably—according to her parents—and thus the primary reason she was now benefiting from the mistake of not keeping her sister in their hometown. And furthermore, enrolled in the local community college.
The sound of a whip cracking outside sent the horses snorting and into motion and pulled her from her troubling reverie. She stomped on the guilt and shoved it off of her priorities for now. She needed a day to relieve the stress she’d already endured from this frustrating search. She damn well deserved some time for herself. Maybe she’d find a lonesome cowboy in town and make a new friend.
The stagecoach lurched forward under a commanding two-horsepower drive, making Jocelyn smile to herself. The first time in months she’d felt the urge to be happy shouldn’t be stifled. She was ready to cast off her guilt for just a little while, and enjoy this short ride into history. Besides, it would be a good idea to search the Old West Town park for her sister to eliminate it as a possibility of where she’d disappeared to in a snit with her undependable boyfriend, Dean.
With the day as clear as could be, there was not a cloud in the sky. A glance out the window and she saw the Rocky Mountains overshadowing the landscape in the distant west. They crossed through the gates of the tall fence and into the wild, wild West. The terrain along the way was littered with several visuals signaling they’d crossed into another time. Another place. Another world.
Abandoned Conestoga wagons, tumbleweeds galore, and wooden signs posted with various messages about poisoned waterholes, railroad tracks ahead, and the town’s city limits filled her excited spirit. A part of her wished she could cast off her twenty-first-century garb and mannerisms to experience the Old West in a more realistic fashion. Perhaps later.
The admissions place had several more “realistic” and personal private packages to experience the Old West as it really was,
for a price
. Or more like the way tourists
thought
the Old West was lived. She’d read lots of history on this late nineteenth-century time period.
Once she’d located her wayward sister and put her back in community college where she belonged, perhaps Jocelyn could return for a
personal private
package of true Western historical fun. Maybe she’d invite that imaginary lonesome cowboy along. She smiled to herself once more and her anxiety level dropped by half.
The rapid succession of several gunshots outside distracted her from her future plans as a horse and rider came alongside the stagecoach and two others could be seen riding behind him.
“Slow down and pull to the side of the road!” came a voice from behind a red kerchief hiding the lower part of the rider’s face.
Jocelyn sucked in a surprised breath. Was this a holdup?
Excellent
. Her heart sped in excitement hoping for just that very experience. She slipped her hands beneath her thighs. It was the only way to fully resist the urge to clap her hands in delight.
The stagecoach slowed quickly before coming to a jerky stop. She was one of six passengers squeezed into the space.
“Everyone out of the coach,” the masked rider said loudly.
The grins on every member of the coach’s passengers belied any danger. Jocelyn was the first out of the coach and into the late-morning sun. Shielding her eyes against the bright light, Jocelyn made room for the others, ending up at the end of the small row of stagecoach patrons. The slight chill in the air barely registered as she watched with anticipation for what would happen next.
The three teenagers continued snapping pictures, or maybe video by now, of the mock stagecoach robbery. Jocelyn ignored them and focused her attention on the leader of the three bandits. Even perched high on his horse, she could see that he had an excellent body.
The kerchief-masked rider who’d spoken disembarked from his horse with the very smoothest of movements as if he did this for his living. A smile came unbidden to her lips at the idea that, in fact, this was
exactly
what he did for a living. He had blond hair in need of a trim curling around his black shirt collar beneath his black cowboy hat. He was tall, maybe six feet one inches, and the spurs on the back of his boots made faint jingling noises as he walked slowly toward the line of passengers, approaching the far end of their row first.
He opened a small burlap sack. “I want all your gold ingots and priceless gem-filled jewelry. Put it right here in this bag. Whatever you’ve got.”
The couple who’d been snuggled together in the coach watched wide eyed and expectant as he moved down the line, but didn’t make a move to put any spoils in the bandit’s sack. And the bandit didn’t press or threaten. He stared deeply into each face of the teenagers grumbling something under his breath, like, “This is the sorriest batch of victims I’ve ever seen in all my born days.”
His sexy drawl lit her imagination.
Just as her lips shaped in amusement, he looked directly at her. His piercing blue-eyed gaze above the kerchief hiding the lower part of his face sent a sudden and visceral tendril of lust down her body. What if the masked bandit kidnapped her and took her away to be his love slave? Would he tie her up? Would she scream in delight as he ravished her using that sexy drawl to entice her? Her inappropriate smile grew. Was this the lonesome cowboy she’d been searching for and fantasizing about?
“What are
you
grinning at, missy?” he asked, moving away from the middle of the line to stand before her.
She dropped the smile, but when he stepped into her personal space, towering over her, she stared back, unable to disguise her lust. His enticing scent wrapped around her. He didn’t smell of cologne or anything that could be found in the current day, but instead the scent of masculinity from a bygone era. Woodsmoke, leather, and clean manly sweat vied for attention and filled her nostrils, making Jocelyn a bit light-headed with inappropriate yearning and unfulfilled desire.
He stepped closer. “Hand over all your valuables, missy,” he demanded in a low, sexy voice. The deep tone made her nipples perk up and her clit twitch in long-neglected need.
“I…I don’t have any valuables,” she whispered. Quickly licking her lips put
his
ardent focus directly on her mouth.
He grunted, then his pupils widened as if her answer, or maybe licking her lips, affected him at a deeper level. He leaned even closer. The red kerchief mask only an inch from her face. Their noses practically touched. She wanted to tug down that mask and lick him. A tremble ran down her body in anticipation of what might happen if she took such a bold action.
What was going on with her? She was never so affected by the opposite sex. Then again, she’d never been this close to a cowboy before. And
this
cowboy pushed her libido on its ass and sent it tumbling across the dusty trail she stood on. She wanted him. At the very least, she wanted a kiss. Which was a big, fat lie because she wanted more than just a smooch.
The thought of kissing this masked bandit—or better yet even more salacious contact—sent a pulse of juice straight from her pussy and directly into her panties. She breathed out a long sigh, ruffling the lower edge of his mask.
For as much as she wanted this stranger to kiss her silly, Jocelyn suspected he wouldn’t be allowed to given the nature of this amusement park. But she really wanted him to. Lowering her gaze to the edge of his mask, Jocelyn wondering what he’d do if she tugged it down and plastered his mouth with an exuberant public display of affection.
As if he read her lust-filled mind, the man hooked a finger into the mask on his cheek, pulled the kerchief down, revealing a ruggedly handsome face dusted with a day’s growth of whiskers, and said, “Then I guess I’ll have to steal a kiss instead.” And then he did, much to her elated shock.
Although, there was not much of a theft involved. His lips barely grazed hers. However one of the other bandits coughed loudly the moment their lips connected.
A wayward thought occurred to her and her grin resumed. She straightened. “I think you should give up your life of crime.”
His eyes narrowed in obvious surprise at her statement. A smile played around his lips. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” She nodded as if to give weight to her advice. “And I certainly don’t want to contribute to it.” His puzzled gaze focused on her mouth again. “To that end, you can’t steal what’s freely given.” She launched forward, and flung her arms around his neck.
“Wha—?”
Jocelyn didn’t let him finish his short question. Instead, she planted her lips hard on his, and pushed her tongue into the warmth of his mouth. He tasted deliciously of mint and coffee. At first he stiffened and grunted in surprise, but then the curl of his tongue around hers offered a relaxed and languorous second feeling. He leaned in, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making the kiss deeper and easier for her to explore. He never once even attempted to stop her enthusiastic overture. He was the best kisser she’d ever had the pleasure of locking lips with.