After the death of his best friend in the Battle of Atlanta, Tanner Burnett walked away from the civil war. Now, ten years later, he runs with the Sam Bass gang, trying to escape the memories of that horrible battle. But when a stagecoach robbery goes bad, he rescues injured Elizabeth Anderson, wanting only to get her to a doctor and rejoin his gang. But the injured beauty needs a nurse and Tanner is unprepared for the way Beth soothes his wounded heart and heals his spirit. Until he takes her to Fort Worth, Texas and learns she’s his brother’s mail order bride.
Genre: FICTION / Romance / WesternThis is the second book in the series and back in 2012 was in the top 100 of the historical western category on Amazon. Since KU sales have declined, but it has always been one of my best selling novels and has 100 reviews. It also does well on iBooks.
Tanner Burnett sat in the stagecoach dressed like a banker, the string tie around his neck feeling like the noose he’d been running from for the last ten years. The wooden coach rocked and rattled along the bumpy road, dust rising from the spoked wheels, through the open window, and settling on the black suit he detested.
God, he didn’t want to be here, dressed like this, waiting. Yet there was no way to change the past, and he didn’t feel like trying. But there was a box of gold on this stage; the contents of the strongbox could go a long way toward his freedom.
He sighed and glanced across the seat at the beautiful young woman with burnished red hair and hazel eyes; she was the only thing about this trip that had been pleasant so far.
The other passenger, who sat beside him, was an older woman on her way to visit her daughter. The three of them were cooped up inside this hot dust catcher rolling toward Fort Worth.
The name of the city conjured up images of home and family, images he quickly pushed away. Those memories belonged to another man, another lifetime, and he could never go back. He could never face his family again and let them see the man he’d become.
“Mr. Tanner, what kind of business are you in?”
“Banking,” he said, thinking it sounded important. He glimpsed out the window, he needed to get out of Texas before his relatives found out he was alive.
Just then a loud pop drew Tanner’s attention back to the window.
Finally.
The snap of the driver’s bullwhip sounded above them, and the stagecoach took a wild lurch.
“Down on the floor, both of you.”
“What’s happening?” the young woman asked.
“I think it’s called a holdup.”
