Coyote: The Outlander (with FREE second screen experience) Read Online Free

probably be a dry night. It wouldn’t be too bad to sleep outside, she decided, and a smile appeared on her face. As usual, Caesar had calmed her temper.

OLD MAN ROBERTS
    The sun peeked above the tree lines, washing the land in a soft grey hue. Coyote stirred, pulling the bedroll up in an attempt to block out the brightening light. She groaned softly and her eyes fluttered open. It took her a few moments to shake the feeling her dream—already forgotten—had given her. It must have been a nightmare, because she felt frazzled and a little grumpy. With a sigh, she pushed herself up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Caesar sat by the fire, stirring something in a metal pot. The strong scent of coffee tickled her senses.
    “Good morning, Coyote. I shall have coffee ready for you in a few minutes.” He never looked up at her, but there was a comfortable familiarity about the situation. Sleeping in a real bed was more comfortable, but Coyote realized she enjoyed sleeping under the stars with her brother in arms.
    “Caesar, have I ever told you you’re a prince?” She smiled and pulled the string from the end of her pigtails. “Because if I haven’t . . . you’re a prince.” Her hands ran through the messy braids, untangling the long hair. Fellow bounty hunters had remarked on her heavy golden locks, that they had to be a nuisance for her line of work, but Coyote never experienced them as such. She’d had long hair for as long as she could remember, and the braids were a part of her. They never got in her way, though she knew well enough that, should she ever get in a close combat situation, the braids would be a disadvantage. Of course, if it came down to close quarters fighting, she’d be at a disadvantage anyway. She wasn’t weak, but she had no exceptional strength or fighting skills. It bothered her, but she had to admit that, physically, she’d be outmatched by most men. Nature was cruel that way. The only thing Coyote could do was make sure that no one ever got near enough for a physical confrontation. So far, her gun skills had not let her down.
    Coyote wasn’t the type of woman who worried about foes who would one day defeat her. When that day happened, she would deal with it or die. Fear would make her less sharp, she believed, and she preferred her optimistic view on life.
    Caesar passed her a steaming mug, and she put her lips to the rim, inhaling the strong scent. The coffee was bitter and strong, but it wakened her senses.
    “Thanks,” she said between sips. Caesar nodded. For a few minutes, they both savored their coffee in silence, while Caesar checked on a tin of beans he had lodged between the coals.
    “We should be at Old Man Roberts’ place by late afternoon if we pack up within the hour,” she muttered, yawning, and tapped the last few drops of coffee from her mug. “We’re going to return his weapon to him.” She stretched her limbs, stood up, and walked to her horse.
    “Good morning, Shenanigans,” she whispered as she rubbed the stallion’s neck, nuzzling him. With deft fingers, she flung the saddle across his back. A quick rummaging around in the saddlebags produced the weapon she had used to shoot her bounty the day before. Coyote admired the Outlander weapon and ran her hand across the sleek chrome barrel. “It’s a shame I have to give this little beauty back.” Her tongue ran across her lips, moistening them, as she inhaled the scent of the metal. “It’s a rare piece, and it did its job so well.”
    “You should be glad that you had the opportunity to borrow this. Finding Outlander weapons is proving more difficult these days.” Caesar kicked dirt over their fire, killing the flames.
    “It really is. That makes it even harder to give them back.” Coyote kissed the barrel and placed the weapon back in her bag. She wrinkled her nose and bit her lip. “I have to admit I hate going to Old Man Roberts, though.”
    Still busy burying the remains of the campfire in sand,