A Cowboy in Manhattan
“He knew where everything was in the compact, single-room shack, and he didn’t want her walking into the furniture. “Will somebody come looking for us?” her voice wafted across the cool room to him. “What do you mean?” “When we don’t come back, will they come looking?” Reed couldn’t help but smile to himself. He struck a match, lifted the glass chamber and lit the lamp’s wick. The idea that Caleb would mount a rescue operation because Reed was a few hours late was laughable. “I’m old enough to s...tay out after dark,” he told Katrina. He quickly moved the match to the second lamp and lit it, as well. Warm yellow light filled the small room, highlighting a compact kitchen, two worn armchairs, a bed in one corner, along with the scarred wooden table and four battered kitchen chairs. “Won’t they worry?” she pressed. “Not for a day or so.” “But we could be hurt.” “We’re not hurt.” “They don’t know that.” He took in her bedraggled appearance and tried not to feel guilty, reminding himself that she was the one who’d insisted on coming along.MoreLess
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