George Armstrong Custer believes the only good Indian is a dead one.
The only thing he detests more than a Sioux warrior is a deserter. When
his conviction affects someone Shannon loves, Custer’s planned
slaughter of those he labels ‘savages’ is nothing compared to the
has in store.
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“Where’s your husband, Misses Richards?”
Shannon whirled around, as surprised by the blunt inquest as she was
the demanding tone. “That’s none of your concern! I’d like you to
leave." Her baby's lower lip quivered as her eyes flew to the fireplace
and the poker. “I won’t ask again.”
Atticus’s fingers drummed the table. “Misses Reeds seems to
think your husband plans to engage the cavalry.” He heard her swallow,
and he had all the confirmation he needed.
Shannon curtained her eyes quickly and fought to keep her
words measured. “Kate Reeds probably thinks there’s gold to be found in
a piss pot. I wouldn’t put a whole lot of stock in her illusions!”
The Texas Ranger stood, popped his hat on, and shaded
deceptive eyes. “I should have surmised as much. An intelligent,
beautiful woman such as yourself would hardly settle for an imbecile...
and a traitor at that.”
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