A long shadow appeared on the ground outside the barn, concealing the identity of the owner. “Lester at the livery claimed the only place to get quality wood work done was by a feller out here by the name of Stoll. Samuel Stoll.” With a jingle, the stranger stepped into the patch of sun framed by the barn’s door. “I’m Peter O’Leary.” His voice was deep and coarse. He towered over Samuel, who stood, grinning, next to him.
The sun glinted off the two tinkling silver stars that stuck off the backs of his boots.
“Hallo,” said Rebekah and Joseph in unison.
She let her eyes roam over the stranger, taking no qualms at subtlety. Tufts of straw-colored hair stuck out from under his black hat, which was cocked over one eye in a decent attempt at covering a vertical scar that ran through his eyebrow. His stormy green eyes stared back at her from his stubbly face, revealing no emotion. He neither smiled nor frowned.
“Does your family await your return in Montgomery?” The sudden sound of Joseph’s voice made her jump.
Peter flipped back his duster, revealing two shining pistols, one held in place on each of his hips by a gleaming black belt.
“Family?” He spat on the dusty barn floor and shifted his weight, causing the silver stars to clink again. “Ain’t got none waitin’, least not in Montgomery.”
Rebekah cocked an eyebrow before she could help herself. The manners of the English haven’t improved much since rumspringa.
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Genre - Romantic Historical Fiction
Rating – PG
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