Desert Flowers

An excerpt from Desert Flowers

Rebecca stood on the premonitory, open white dress fluttering in the wind, her bared breasts and legs smooth and tan in the sunlight. "Riders. I count four."

"Fuck 'em. They ain't comin' this way are they?" Laura asked.

"Directly."

Laura lay back in the shadows, naked and warm, still tired from their long session of lovemaking. "I brought my rifle."

"They ain't varmints, Laura," Rebecca said. Her blond hair whipped across her face. She brushed it back.

Just then a shot rang out, echoing around the stony hills. The slug ricocheted off the rocks above them.

"They are now, Goddammit," Laura growled, picking herself up. She crouched low and went to her horse to pull the rifle free.

Rebecca crouched behind a boulder. "Sons of bitches. Who do they think we are? Blackfeet? Cheyenne?" The naked woman came close behind her, her bare breasts pressing against Rebecca's back.

"I don't care. I'm gonna shoot the sons of bitches if'n they come any closer." And she cocked the Winchester repeater with snap of her arm.