Page 11 of The Brave and the Reckless (Bravetown #1)

THE PRETTY ANNIE LOU

THE MAYOR’S DAUGHTER

Annie Lou is a gentle beauty beloved for her kindness. With a warm smile and a heart for helping, her caring nature has made her a true town treasure. Annie brings a touch of sweetness to the Old West.

Always remember: In the face of adversity, kindness can be the bravest act of all.

N OAH

There was a chance Esra was conducting a social experiment to see how many inconveniences it would take to make me snap. Hadn’t she been in med school? Maybe she hadn’t dropped out. Maybe she was part of some sort of psychological-torture study. I was merely a guinea pig trapped in her maze.

At least that would explain why I’d found my peanut butter among her things, right next to her own, when I’d gone to make dinner– and her laundry in a wet heap on top of the dryer when I’d gone to pick up my own dried clothes.

I’d told her to be back in time or someone would unload the washer for her .

I should have let her deal with the mess the next morning. The water dripping from her leggings on to the floor had started to pool though, and I actually cared about keeping the living conditions here a few levels above a camping ground’s shared amenities.

When we met up again in the park for our next practice session, she didn’t so much as acknowledge the fact that she’d woken up to a basket of dry and folded clothes (including her current T-shirt, with weird naked baby angels all over it).

Instead of showing gratitude, she pulled a face every single time my hands wrapped around her waist to lift her on to the horse.

Renee watched the first few lifts from various vantage points before making us change our moves and the way we were angled to the horse.

She then went back to watch the new lift from her chosen locations.

We repeated that process until she clapped her hands from the steps of Miss Clementine’s Café and jogged across the square. “What if we tie her hands?”

“No,” I replied without missing a beat. “She can barely keep herself upright as is, and Tornado isn’t even moving yet.”

Esra jutted her chin out from where she was leaning sideways in the saddle. “How on earth did someone like you end up working here?”

“Someone like me?”

“This place is fun. You’re… you.”

“The fun is for visitors,” I pointed out. “Those of us who work here actually treat it as a workplace.”

“Sanny still has fun in the park.” She raised her brows at me as if I should take that as a challenge. “I just think you should enjoy the job you choose. ”

“Makes sense coming from you. Is that why you dropped out of school? Wasn’t fun enough?”

“Yeah, I thought it would be so much more fun to spend my days around you and your smelly cow.” She crinkled her nose down at Tornado, who huffed and shook his head as if he understood the sentiment.

“Wow, we’ve stooped to insulting my horse? Very mature.”

“I think we’re done for today,” Renee interrupted us, levelling her gaze on me. “Save your breath for tomorrow. We’ll hook you both up to microphones, so we can practice the full scene.”

I was close to defending myself by saying that Esra had started it, and I was actually okay to keep going, but considering I’d criticized Esra’s maturity, “she started it” didn’t seem like the way to go.

I forgot my maturity later that night though, when I opened the kitchen cabinet. I’d only meant to cook myself dinner, but Esra’s shelf taunted me. She had a couple necessities, but everything else was quick snacks and pure sugar. Eyeing her jar of peanut butter, I ran my hand over my chin.

This was stupid. What was that saying about an eye for an eye leaving everyone blind?

I turned to shoot a look at the empty kitchen doorway. I listened for any footsteps. Nothing. Nobody.

Setting my jaw, I grabbed the bag of Reese’s from her shelf, only to hide it behind my own jar of peanut butter. That was for calling Tornado a cow. Besides, that stuff was unhealthy anyway.

My immaturity earned me intense eye contact the next morning. I could have chalked up the death glares she greeted me with outside the bank building to her superb Annie Lou acting skills, but I had a feeling they were chocolate-related.

“Good morning.” I plastered on a smile for Renee’s benefit. “How were the rests of your days yesterday?”

“Fine, fine, thank you.” Renee waved me off, twirling her pen through the air while she hunched over a stack of paper.

“Loved my afternoon in the park, loved the Haunted Mines ride,” Esra replied, squinting at me, “but my dinner was lacking a little something.”

Yeah, fuck, maybe it was immature, but vindication tasted better than any peanut butter chocolate confection could. It took every drop of restraint in my veins to keep my lips tight as I nodded and hummed an understanding note.

“Okay, here we go.” Renee shoved a sheet of paper at each of us. “Commit to memory, please.”

We each had four whole lines of dialogue in the revised scene before Esra’s escape on foot.

Short enough to memorize in the twenty minutes it took Renee to fix a mic pack to Esra’s obstructively tight daisy-print leggings, snake the small beige headset under her hair and around her ears, and explain the control switch on the pack.

I hadn’t touched that switch once. Our microphones were controlled remotely during the show.

That switch was just for emergencies, and allowed us to switch between normal mode, intercom or turning the mics off altogether.

“Say something for me, Esra,” Renee said, clipping on her own headset .

“I swear by Apollo the physician, and Asclepius the surgeon, likewise Hygeia and Panacea, and call all the gods and goddesses to witness, that I will—”

“Got it,” Austin’s voice cracked through our earpieces. “Thank you, Homer.”

“Hippocrates, not Homer,” Esra replied as she turned in a circle. Instead of finding the source of Austin’s voice, her eyes landed on me. Her head dropped sideways, waves of chocolate hair spilling over her shoulder as her forehead wrinkled in confusion and her big doe eyes rounded out.

It wasn’t even the full costume. Merely the part that would influence the microphone. There was no need to look at me like I’d grown a second head just because I’d pulled a black bandana over the bottom half of my face.

“Noah,” Austin prompted.

“I’m saying words. Test, one, two, three. Testing, testing.”

Esra’s head snapped back upright, and she silently mouthed: “Boring.”

“Thanks, good to go,” Austin said.

“Okay, while exiting the bank, there’s still a lot of shooting noise from the other bandits who run out before you two,” Renee explained as she walked us over to Tornado’s side, her voice carrying through the intercom of the headsets, “but when Annie Lou runs away from Ace, your microphone is turned on, so feel free to huff and puff a little.”

“Huffing and puffing, got it.”

“And when you scream for help, use an indoor scream. Or it will crackle on the speakers.”

“Indoor screaming.” She nodded. “Okay. ”

“Noah?”

“Villain voice, I know.” I tipped my hat at her before I turned toward the saddle, so I could act distracted enough to give Annie Lou her chance for an escape.

Renee backed away and counted us in. In my peripheral, Esra took two tentative steps backward, then booked it.

Fast, raspy breaths filled my headphones.

Her voice carried on them like a wordless whisper, every exhale uniquely hers.

The sound raised the hairs on my arms. Before I could seriously contemplate that phenomenon, Renee cued me in, and I did my best exaggerated double take before chasing after Esra.

I was ready to grab her, but my muscles locked up.

In that instant, her body’s shape etched itself into my memory.

The slope of her neck and shoulders, her waist accentuated by that thick leather harness, those curved hips covered in purple flowery spandex, down to her slender calves.

Fuck, I probably would have memorized her ankles if they hadn’t been covered by her costume boots.

It was one second of realizing I was about to handle her body like a prop.

That one second was enough for me to miss my cue and for her to overstep her mark.

Fuck.

I wrapped my arm around her middle and hauled her to me. Esra’s back collided with my chest, air whooshing from her lungs. Her ribcage deflated beneath my fingertips, and her deep rasp filled my ears louder than it should have.

“You’ll have to run faster than that, gorgeous,” I growled. The words and Ace Ryder’s low, scratching voice came automatically .

Esra stilled against me. My headphones fell quiet. She didn’t move a muscle, not even her lungs.

Maybe I’d grabbed her too hard. Shit. I’d been off-beat, distracted, when I should have been more careful.

“Fight him, Annie Lou,” Renee called through the headsets.

“Oh, right,” Esra muttered. Her body rippled against me with a new surge of energy. Then the screaming and kicking started. “Let me go! Help! No, stop! Help!”

I carried most of her weight as I hauled her back, only to whirl her around and cage her against the horse. I shaped my fingers to a gun in the absence of props, tilting Esra’s chin up. Her slender throat was completely exposed as she swallowed.

“Get on the damn horse, Annie Lou.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you, criminal ,” she spat the word, her amber eyes like flames in the sunlight.

“Have it your way.” I lifted her on to the horse like we’d practiced, her feet kicking through the air, and mounted behind her in one swift move. I leaned in close as I buckled her in. “Hold on tight. Don’t want anything to happen to a pretty little thing like you.”

“You should worry about yourself,” her voice hitched with the perfect amount of panic, “because Sheriff Kit Holliday is going to come for me.”

“Let him come.”