Excerpt:

Kristian paced the great room. What was she going to do? He was a gunslinger. She should've suspected it. There was no telling how many wanted posters hung in sheriff's offices with his likeness on it. Men would continually be popping up, hoping to cash in on the reward.

She paused in mid-step, what if he was wanted for killing innocent woman and children. He could sneak in her one night, rape her and kill-. No! She shook her head.

Dean wasn't a killer of the innocent. She had no doubt he could kill a man though. Remembering his face when he had stood up against Black Eagle, she trembled. How many others had faced that icy glare?

He had to leave; that was all there was to it. She couldn't risk Reggie's safety over a man. Any man.

That only made her resolve that much stronger; he had to leave. Before it was too late for Reggie to recover, and for her. With this in mind she stopped her pacing and noticed for the first time that Reggie had fallen asleep on the rug in front of the fireplace.

She bent down by her small child, tucking a stray strand of black hair behind Reggie's ear.

"I can't risk it," she spoke aloud.

After covering her daughter with a quilt, Kristian clenched her fists and marched outside to find Dean. He was in the barn, putting the tired hoses away.

"Dean! We need to talk," she called to him. She could see him combing down Nugget and patting the horse's neck every so often.

He continued to work, ignoring Kristian's presence.

"Dean, I said we have to talk."

He set the brush down on a shelf by the wall and led the golden animal by the lead rope into the stall. Unhooking the halter from around the horse's face, he checked the water and hay level in the troughs.

Kristian was brimming with irritation. Determined not to be put off, she followed right on Dean's heels as he went into the tack room. The door to the room swung shut behind them as Dean hung up the fittings.

He turned abruptly, causing Kristian to run right into his hard chest. All her thought and logic vanished with the feel of his bare skin beneath her splayed fingers. Quickly stepping back, she noticed for the first time that the upper half of his shirt was unbuttoned. Transfixed, she stared at the curly black hairs decorating his chest, the glistening skin shining beneath. Sweat trickled down the hollow beneath his neck. The distance between them was not enough to stop the feelings building inside her. Her breath quickened and her pulse accelerated.

Unwillingly, she dragged her eyes up from his naked flesh. She met his eyes and recognized his amusement. Her anger bubbled forth, pushing the desire of only a moment before deep down inside.

"We've got to talk!"

Pushing his hat back on his head, he casually braced himself with an elbow against the wall.

"We do, do we?"

"Yes! You need to leave!" she informed him, adding a slight nod of confirmation.

Cocking one brow, he answered, "Kristian we've already talked about this. I'm not going anywhere." With nonchalance, he pulled a piece of straw out of his shirt pocket and stuck it into his mouth.

Lips pressed tightly together, Kristian advanced on him. She realized her mistake immediately. Standing so close forced her to tilt her head far back to look him in the eye. Pride, however, refused to let her back up.

"I will not let you put my daughter at risk! You need to leave and never look back!"

A muscle by his eye twitched and his nostrils flared. "I'm not going anywhere! Understand me?"

"No, you don't understand me! I want you gone! This is my land and if I have to shoot you, you are leaving!"

Dean lost his casual stance and jerked the straw out of his mouth. Bending his head within just inches of hers, he growled out, "This is my land! And I'm not going anywhere!" Regret consumed him the instant the words slipped from his lips.

Her face paled and her eyes widened with disbelief.

Forgetting her pride, Kristian backed up to the door of the tack room. "What do you mean, this is your land?"

Dean could've shot himself right then. Damn! Damn! This was not how he had envisioned telling her.

Stuffing one hand in his back pocket he looked at her for a long moment before answering.

Author BIO: Lauryn Hale has always liked to read. A passion that began with the Sweet Valley High Sisters and Mary Higgins Clark and bloomed into Johanna Lindsey and Elizabeth Lowell. Any book that could be seized, she read! Finally, with a little push from her husband, Lauryn tried her hand at writing and realized she loved it! The Undertaker is her first novel, and she is busily writing on number two. The set will be a trilogy.

Living most of her life in the beautiful state of Colorado, Lauryn has many memories of snow capped mountains, frozen ponds, and sledding carelessly down packed trails. Scenery is not a problem in her writing, all she has to do is close her eyes and remember the wind whipping through her hair, blinding her eyes with tears and her and her brothers howls of laughter!

With three beautiful children and a fabulous husband, Lauryn Hale has many role models for her stories. In the next story, The Decoy, the large "mountain man" is inspired by her husband. The Undertaker was a story from her heart, a painstaking, but necessary, job of voicing the life of characters she has forever created in her mind.

She credits her husband with many a nights of listening patiently as she rambled on and on about Kristian this, and Dean that. Then of course she would change her mind and go in another direction, the whole time he listened, feigning interest and smiling in appreciation. Without him the whole thing may not have began and for that she dedicates The Undertaker to him.