Longarm and the Colorado gundown

_{ISBN: 0-515-10689-5}

_{Jove Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,}

_{200 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016.}

_{The name “JOVE” and the “J” logo}

_{are trademarks belonging to Jove Publications, Inc.}

_{PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA}

_{10 987654321}

 

 

_{Chapter 1}

_{Longarm clamped his lips shut to contain the belch that was surging out of his stomach. He was able to keep from embarrassing himself, but he wasn’t able to stop himself from burping. The liver flavor was just fine this second time around, but the onions tasted a trifle stale.}

_{He was just back from lunch, and normally would’ve let it rip if he needed to belch in the U.S. Marshal’s office. In fact, he might’ve tried to amplify things just to see if he could get a rise out of Marshal Vail’s dignified—a polite way of saying stuffy—clerk Henry.}

_{Not this time, though.}

_{There was a young lady standing bent over Henry’s desk signing something there. Longarm sure as hell didn’t want to disturb her. In fact, if she wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon bent over like that, well, Longarm would be so damned polite that he’d just stand right where he was and not interrupt for nothing.}

_{The view from back there was what you might call fine. Just fine.}

_{Unfortunately, the lady’s business seemed to be completed once her signature was done. She returned the steel- nibbed pen to Henry and straightened, diminishing the quality of the view somewhat once her gown was no longer stretched tight across the rear portions of her anatomy.}

_{“That should be everything, Miss Mayweather,” Henry said. ‘Thank you for bringing this to our attention.”}

_{"Thank you, sir.” Mmm, not a bad voice, Longarm decided. Sexy.}

_{She turned, and he decided he didn’t regret losing that back view after all. This was one handsome filly. Blonde, perky, apple cheeks, ample chest—more than ample, in fact damned well overflowing. Yes, indeedy, the view from the front was fine too.}

_{He smiled and gave her a small bow. “Ma’am.”}

_{“Hello.” She had dimples when she smiled. Longarm liked dimples. “Are you the marshal, sir?”}

_{“A deputy, ma’am.” He bowed and held his brown Stetson low. “United States Deputy Marshal Custis Long, ma’am. At your service.”}

_{He was glad now that he’d stopped at the barber’s on his way to lunch today, and that his hat and jacket were as freshly brushed and decent-looking as either was likely to get. He looked, in fact, pretty much his best at the moment.}