The Lone Cowboy of River Bend. Lori Connelly

to the lawman’s statement. With nothing left to do, he tugged the brim of his hat down, shielding his eyes from the sunlight’s glare, and waited.

      An expectant hush fell. The group surrounding him pressed in tighter. He tensed, eager to be gone. As soon as Nate heard the leaves of the trap door crash open, he started walking and didn’t bother glancing back. People who usually stayed at home during this time of year, rarely socializing with those outside their immediate family, stood young to old all around him, doing the exact opposite. He shook his head in disbelief, watching them crane their necks, straining to get a better view of the Nash brothers hanging at the ends of their ropes. Only the bonds of friendship and family brought him to this spectacle and he couldn’t wait to leave.

      It wasn’t that he disagreed with the sentence. The two men convicted of the murder of Janet Payne and the abduction of his shirttail cousin, Claire, had been guilty beyond all doubt. They’d earned their fate. Still, Nate frowned when cheers echoed down the length of the street. He took in the excited crowd, hooting and hollering, celebrating death, and his scowl deepened. It was times like this he questioned taking part in society at all.

      Nate quickened his stride, heading toward the Trail’s End Saloon on the edge of Silver Falls City, where he’d arranged to meet his friend, Matthew Marston. People littering the streets and plank sidewalks hindered him, slowing his pace. After only a few yards’ progress the sensation of someone staring at him prickled his skin, further souring his mood. Two possibilities sprang to mind. Occasionally a person took a less-than-polite interest in the scar a strand of barbed wire had left over his eye in childhood. He hoped that was it.

      However, something odd had been happening lately. Women had been taking an undue interest in him. He pressed onward harder, somewhat faster, but hadn’t made it ten steps before a young woman planted herself in his path.

      “You’re him, aren’t you?” She matched his sidestep, stopping him cold when he tried to dodge her.

      Nate stepped in the other direction. “Excuse me.”

      Again, she matched his movement, remaining directly in his way as she reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “I’m Nancy and you’re the-”

      “No,” he broke in, hoping to stop her loud, high-pitched voice from cutting through the ruckus of the crowd and drawing more unwanted attention to him.

      Her hands clapped together like an excited child. “Yes, you are.”

       How did she notice me in this mess of people?

      It didn’t make any sense. Nate gritted his teeth. He wasn’t unusually handsome. His facial scar wasn’t that remarkable. He wore the same basic clothing as most of the men on the street, sturdy leather boots with signs of wear, blue jeans, an oil- cloth duster over a wool-lined coat and a brown hat that had seen better days.

      “I can’t believe I spotted you.”

      Neither could he, but Nate managed, barely, not to speak the sentiment aloud. He didn’t try to question her, though. Recent experiences led him to believe it’d be pointless, asking the others hadn’t gained him any useful answers.

      In the last several months while he’d been helping Matt, the Sheriff of Silver Creek County, and his cousin, Ben, track rustlers, someone had spread romanticized gossip about him. Only Heaven knew why. Now random women sought him out but how they’d known Nate on sight remained a mystery. At times like this, he could swear someone must have drawn up a sketch of him, then passed it around the county, woman to woman, like some sort of wanted poster.

      “I need to go.”

      “You can’t leave.” A slender, gloved hand clamped onto him with surprising strength. “My sister would die to meet you.” The cunning glee reflected in her eyes sent the sensation of being an albino deer, hunted for its rare hide, washing over him. “We brought a picnic and you must join us.”

      Revulsion knotted his stomach. Too many people were acting as if they were attending the summer county fair instead of a winter hanging. He’d never understand why a somber event excited some otherwise good citizens. Nate fought to respond with the manners his mother insisted on from all her children even as adults.

      “No.”

      Her face fell into a crushed expression at the mere hint of harshness in his tone, reminding him of her youth. Nate ground his teeth again for a few seconds before drawing in a fortifying breath. He managed to tack on a muttered “thank you” before moving away from her as swiftly as possible.

      The easy escape sent relief coursing through him, but before long he sensed someone was following him again. Hoping the young woman wasn’t pursuing him, he glanced back and discovered Sheriff Marston, the man he sought, a few paces behind him. Nate grimaced even as he paused, waiting. The smirk on his friend’s face gave him the distinct impression Matt had witnessed his encounter.

      Nate shifted impatiently. His gaze swept the people near him, worrying Nancy, or another like-minded woman, would dart out to grab him. In seconds that seemed to take an eternity to pass, Matt stepped up next to him.

      “Don’t.”

      “Don’t what?” His good friend sounded a shade too innocent.

      Delivering a glare as his only answer, Nate resumed walking toward the edge of town.

      “Don’t ask you about the fine young woman who stopped to chat with you?”

      Nate flicked a glance at the other man, holding his tongue with effort. He was pleased Matt and his cousin, Claire, had healed their relationship, truly, but ever since those two had gotten back together the man was insufferably cheerful. He found a positive take in almost every situation now.

      It grated on his nerves.

      “She looked sweet.”

      Ignoring the statement, Nate kept moving, weaving through the milling people.

      “What was wrong with this one?”

      Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he snapped, “You already know.”

      “She dared speak to you?”

      Nate didn’t respond.

      “Were you this rude to the poor child?”

      “No.”

      “Really?”

      The disbelief in Matt’s tone made him reconsider his answer. “Maybe, a little.”

      “Shocking, your mother would be appalled.”

      “Then it’s good she’s in Ireland, where word of my poor manners won’t reach her.”

      “Oh, you never know, it might. Stories about the Recluse of River’s Bend have traveled throughout the wilds of Oregon.”

      Nate halted abruptly, scowling anew at his friend. “It’s not funny.” He and his brothers were responsible for the family ranch while their parents were overseas. “I don’t want anything spoiling Ma’s visit.”

      Still grinning, Matt raised an eyebrow. “Your mother hasn’t seen her sisters in over twenty years. I doubt hearing you’ve been rude would surprise her, let alone spoil anything.”

      “You’re not taking this seriously.” Nate shook his head, moving forward again. “And I have to be rude. These women aren’t discouraged by polite chit chat.”

      “You shouldn’t let a little attention bother you.”

      “I don’t like it.”

      “They’re just flirting with you.”

      “Strangers? With no encouragement?” Nate shook his head. “They’re making a laughing stock out of me.”

      “Those women were definitely not laughing at you.”

      Nate leveled a look at Matt. “Last week, out on the Double J, Judson’s hired hands kept hanging