#1 NYT bestselling author Linda Lael Miller

That Gideon

When I got to the marshal’s office yesterday, Gideon wasn’t there. Rowdy wasn’t, either. Only the old yellow dog, Pardner, was around. So I headed out onto the streets of Stone Creek, Arizona, circa 1915, and started tracking the missing hero. I found him at the Horseshoe Saloon, on Main Street, drinking beer. Gideon was only 16 the last time I saw him, and now he’s 26. He’s grown up nicely–boy to hunk.

I love my job.

I’ll be meeting up with Lydia Fairwood, our heroine, this morning. (I might have to do some searching for her, too, but I doubt I’ll find her in a saloon. :)) Lydia was only 8 when I knew her before, and she’s 18 now. I still see her as a little girl, and I know Gideon does, too.

We’re BOTH going to be surprised!

Have a good weekend. I certainly plan to. I stocked up on groceries yesterday, because the stores will be absolutely MAD with people buying school supplies, etc. As a writer and a lover of all kinds of pens and papers, I admit to lingering in those aisles myself, on occasion, savoring the pretty notebooks, the pencils, the geegaws for the lockers. As a kid, I LOVED going back to school–new shoes, new clothes (I could still wear mini-skirts then), new start. I loved the weather–fall is still my favorite season–and that certain festive snap of anticipation in the air.

Make it a good one. It’s up to you.

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