On the Wings of Freedom: Perfectly Stated

By Rebecca Lovell

Jake Carter is a cowboy at heart, but his wings have been clipped. Thanks to circumstances beyond his control, he's tied to a bar in the small town of Mayfly, New Mexico making money that he never gets to keep and living day to day in the hotel next door.

 

When a beautiful lady reporter from Chicago finds herself stranded in town on the way to do a story on the cliff dwellings, Jake is immediately attracted to her spark and her freedom.

 

As they become closer, Jake bemoans the fact that he can never leave town with her when she goes, but when Jake's past comes back to haunt him, only Marietta can help him…if she's even willing to take the chance.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rebecca Lovell
• Release date: Aug 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201022686

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

NEW MEXICO, 1888

Somewhere in the back of Willy’s Saloon there was a loud crash, and Jake Carter closed his eyes in irritation. He took a deep breath, waiting to see which way things would go. There were usually only two options. A moment later he heard laughter ring out in the direction of the crash and he exhaled slowly. Good news, then. Jake turned back around toward the customers and looked around, trying to find the source of the crash.

It looked like a couple of the regulars had gotten a little unsteadier than they’d expected and stumbled into a poker game. Literally. Lucky for them, the poker game had been winding down and the players themselves were already reaching their limits. Jake was glad for that. The last thing he wanted right before his shift was over was to have to break up a bar fight. That always kept him at least an hour over and he needed to be out on time.

Hey, Jake!

Yeah? He lifted a tray of glasses off the counter where he’d been packing it, then slid it under the bar before he turned to see Willy Sutton walking toward him with an envelope. Looks like it’s Christmas Eve.

Christmas in July, maybe. Willy rubbed a bandanna over his forehead. It’s hotter’n the devil’s bedroom out tonight. He handed the envelope to Jake and nodded at it. You can feel free to count it if you like.

Nah, I trust you. Jake folded the envelope in half and stuck it in the front pocket of his shirt. You need me anymore tonight?

Looks like it’s about time for the regulars to settle in and everybody else to get home, so you’re fine to get to your appointment. Although Willy didn’t know what he did with his pay, Jake appreciated that he always seemed sympathetic to the fact that it was almost entirely gone the day after he got it. Come back after you do and get something to eat.

Thanks, Jake said. I already ate, though. We had a slow hour earlier. I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep before the weekend.

That sounds just right, Willy said, slapping him on the shoulder. You go get your rest. Make sure you get at least one shot of whiskey under your belt before you go upstairs. Help you sleep. It was the same offer he always made and Jake never took him up on, but he thanked his boss nonetheless before he grabbed his hat and went out the door.

The sun had been down for a while but the hard-packed dirt of Mayfly’s main street still radiated heat that it had soaked up through the day, and by the time Jake walked through the door of the Western Union office sweat had beaded on his upper lip.

Evenin’ there, Jake, the clerk behind the counter said, leaning back so that his stool was balancing on two legs. He was fanning himself with a stack of telegram blanks and Jake could sympathize. It somehow felt hotter inside the building than it had outside and he went up to the counter and took the envelope out of his pocket, wanting to get his business taken care of and get out where there was some breeze to blow over his face.

Evening, Al. I need you to wire some money to Texas for me.

Must be payday. Al tipped forward slightly so that all the legs of the stool hit the floor with a clack, then heaved himself up and joined Jake at the counter. He took a form from under the counter and picked up a pencil, licking the tip as he did. How much are we sending today?

Twenty dollars, Jake said, opening the envelope. He knew there was that much in it, at least. A quick count of the bills told him that he would have five dollars leftover, which was more than enough for the rest of his expenses and he kept from exhaling with relief.

Twenty dollars, Al repeated as he slowly wrote on the form, nodding. You want this to go to the same place as usual?

Yes, sir. Same as always. Jake counted out twenty dollars from his envelope and passed them across the counter. Without looking up at his customer, Al finished his form, wrote out a receipt, and handed it to Jake before he took his eyes off the counter.

There you go. Money’ll be there first thing tomorrow.

Thank you kindly, Al. Jake folded his nearly-empty envelope and put it back in his