The Exit Interview

The Canyon Pass was a narrow gorge with high red walls. A perfect ambush spot.

Salyard dumped Chloe on the ground in the middle of the trail. He positioned his men in the rocks above.

"Now we wait," Salyard said, lighting a cigar. "He'll come charging in like a hero, and we'll cut him down."

"You're underestimating his Q3 performance metrics!" Chloe yelled through the gag, which she had managed to spit out.

Salyard slapped her. "Quiet."

Chloe’s cheek stung. Rage, pure and white-hot, flooded her system.

*Nobody slaps HR.*

Suddenly, a gunshot echoed through the canyon.

The man next to Salyard dropped, his rifle spinning away.

"Take cover!" Salyard screamed.

Jericho didn't charge in. He wasn't stupid. He was a professional.

He was on the ridge *above* the ambushers.

*Bang. Bang.*

Two more men fell, clutching their legs and shoulders. Jericho was picking them off like he was clearing a spreadsheet.

"He's behind us!" one of the bandits yelled, panicking.

Salyard grabbed Chloe. He hauled her to her feet, pulling a knife and holding it to her throat.

"Show yourself, Ford!" Salyard screamed at the rocks. "Or I cut her throat!"

Jericho appeared on a ledge thirty feet up. He looked terrifying. The duster coat billowed around him. His rifle was trained on Salyard’s head.

"Let her go," Jericho’s voice boomed.

"Drop the gun!" Salyard countered, pressing the knife into Chloe’s skin. A bead of blood welled up.

Jericho hesitated. He began to lower the rifle.

Chloe looked at Jericho. She saw the fear in his eyes. He was going to surrender. He was going to die for her.

*Not today, Satan.*

Chloe remembered a self-defense seminar she had organized in 2019. *The element of surprise.*

She didn't scream. She didn't faint.

She turned her head and bit Salyard’s hand with everything she had.

She clamped down like a pitbull.

Salyard howled, instinctively pulling his hand back.

"Hostile Work Environment!" Chloe screamed, dropping to the ground.

*BANG.*

Jericho didn't miss.

The bullet struck the knife, shattering the blade and taking Salyard’s thumb with it.

Salyard fell back, screaming.

Jericho slid down the canyon wall, boots surfing the scree. He hit the ground running. He reached Salyard and delivered a single, efficient punch that knocked the man unconscious.

Then he was on his knees beside Chloe.

"Chloe," he gasped, his hands hovering over her. "Did he cut you? Are you okay?"

Chloe sat up, spitting out the taste of Salyard’s dirty glove.

"I need a tetanus shot," she announced. "And he is definitely fired."

Jericho grabbed her face in his hands. He looked at the tiny cut on her neck. His eyes were dark pools of fury and relief.

"I thought I lost you," he whispered.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," Chloe said breathless. "We have a contract."

Jericho looked at her lips. The adrenaline was fading, leaving only the heat between them.

"Chloe," he said. "I..."

"Oh, for God's sake," Chloe said.

She grabbed the lapels of his duster and pulled him down.

She kissed him.

He froze for a second, then he melted. He kissed her back with a hunger that made her toes curl. It was dusty, and tasted of gunpowder, and it was better than any latte she had ever had.

When they broke apart, Jericho looked dazed.

"Does this mean you're staying?" he asked.

"Yes," Chloe said. She reached into her pocket (which she had sewn herself, very poorly) and pulled out a wanted poster she had snatched from Salyard’s saddlebag. She grabbed a piece of charcoal from the ground.

"But we need to formalize this," she said, flipping the poster over. "I'm drafting a new agreement."

She scribbled furiously on the back of the poster.

**TERMS OF MERGER:**

*1. Indoor plumbing installed by Q4.*

*2. No more kidnappings.*

*3. Daily kisses (minimum 1).*

*4. Jericho Ford hereby agrees to be the husband of Chloe Miller, in perpetuity.*

She held it up.

"Sign here," she said.

Jericho looked at the paper. He looked at the unconscious bandits around them. He looked at the crazy, wonderful woman in the red satin dress.

He took the charcoal. He signed his name with a flourish.

"Approved," he grunted.

Chloe grinned. "Excellent. Now, take me home. I believe we have a trench to dig."