Miss Kitty sat at the polished bar of the Long Branch, swirling whiskey in a glass she had no intention of finishing. The saloon bustled—cowboys barking laughter, a piano clanking out a tune—but her sharp blue eyes scanned the doorway.
Dillon was late. Again.
She adjusted the red satin of her dress, tugged on her lace gloves. She could run a business, break up a brawl, handle a Colt if needed—but waiting? That was the hardest part.
When the doors finally swung open, she didn’t smile. Just lifted one brow, as if to say, Well, it’s about damn time.
Touching.
I’ve written a 100 stories about Miss Kitty! 😊
Miss Kitty sat at the polished bar of the Long Branch, swirling whiskey in a glass she had no intention of finishing. The saloon bustled—cowboys barking laughter, a piano clanking out a tune—but her sharp blue eyes scanned the doorway.
Dillon was late. Again.
She adjusted the red satin of her dress, tugged on her lace gloves. She could run a business, break up a brawl, handle a Colt if needed—but waiting? That was the hardest part.
When the doors finally swung open, she didn’t smile. Just lifted one brow, as if to say, Well, it’s about damn time.