Blue-eyed Headhunter
Copyright© 2025 by Heel
Chapter 1: The Attack
The sun scorched the plains like molten gold, baking the cracked earth and making the sagebrush sway in the lazy wind. The stagecoach creaked and groaned over the uneven trail, wheels grinding against rocks, sending small puffs of dust curling into the air. Inside, the passengers reclined against worn leather seats, fanning themselves with hats, chatting softly, sipping water, completely unaware of the danger approaching.
All except Mia Lang.
She sat upright, shoulders taut, fingers lightly brushing the leather satchel at her side. Blue eyes scanned the horizon with crystalline sharpness, catching the faintest shimmer of metal, the tiniest ripple of dust along the ridge. Her lips pressed into a thin line, jaw tight, a bead of sweat tracing her temple. While the others lounged in the illusion of safety, she was a coiled spring, ready to strike at the slightest sign of trouble.
And trouble was coming.
Dust rose on the distant ridge. Three riders appeared, silhouettes sharp against the sun, their rifles slung casually across their shoulders. The Barton brothers, as notorious as the West dared whisper, were coming for the stagecoach. One lifted his hat in mock courtesy, grinning as if greeting a long-lost friend.
The first Barton brother rode alongside, swinging his rifle carelessly. “Hand over your valuables, lady. Don’t make this ugly.”
Mia’s fingers brushed the grip of her revolver beneath her skirts. She let out a small, mocking sigh. “Oh, please,” she murmured, “you boys really need to work on your introductions.”
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.