He stepped off the porch and winced as he limped toward Misery. “What’s wrong with your leg,” she queried. She didn’t offer to heal him. For some reason, bile rose in her throat at the thought of laying hands on Olag Bannister.
“Twisted it chasing a belligerent cowpoke who needed to sleep a drunk off. Damn leg just keeps acting up. Maybe…” Misery was shaking her head before he could ask and backing toward her slab of porch just as fast.
“Oh, almost forgot,” he reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a brown wrapped package. “This was left for you at the general store. I said I’d deliver it since I was coming your way.”
Misery caught the package out of the air and said thank you when he tossed it, still determined to wait outside until the man departed. No way did she want to be cornered by a randy lothario in a closed space she might not be able to escape.
He mounted his horse, tipped his head, silently saying good-bye, and rode off toward town. Misery stood outside watching until he disappeared from sight. Only then did she look with curiosity at the package in her hands.
She sank down on the step and tore the brown wrapper aside. Gifts were uncommon occurrences in her life and usually amounted to a jar of honey or a jug of spirits in payment for services rendered.
But this was different.She knew what it was before she finished tearing the paper free. It was blue. The prettiest dress she'd ever owned. Actually, it was the first store-bought dress Misery had ever laid hands on.