To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. Heaven forbid. “Please come by. ” He glanced over at her cockeyed, and then returned his gaze to the road. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. “Michelle, I don’t ever want to hear you mention the subject you mentioned at dinner again. As you brew so must you drink.
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