A Good Man for Katie by Marie Patrick Read Free Book Online

of these boys were certain to be furious by their behavior, if they knew.
    He released Oren’s shirt. “Go home and pray I don’t tell your father where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing.”
    “Whadya do that fer?” Belligerence colored Joe’s words as he scrambled to his feet. He drew himself up to his full height and puffed out his thin chest. Chase glared at him. Within seconds, the boy’s bravado disappeared. On some level, despite the liquor, he must have realized he stood alone with a gunman. He took a shaky step backward.
    Chase advanced toward the teen-aged boy and tried hard to rein in his anger. “You need to learn some respect, boy. Your mother works hard every day while you waste time and money with those bullies you call friends.” His eyes narrowed as he pinned the boy to the spot.
    Joe opened his mouth. Nothing emerged except a rank burp. He mumbled an apology as his eyes darted toward the open door and the big black stallion.
    “Pay attention!” Chase commanded and the boy focused on him once more. “I know you’re supposed to clean this stable. By the looks of it, you haven’t in quite some time. It reeks. Tomorrow morning, you will do your chores, all of them, without being asked or you’ll answer to me. Do I make myself clear?”
    Joe nodded as his eyelids began to droop. Chase’s tone softened. “Now, go to bed and be quiet. Your mother, I’m sure, is asleep as she deserves to be.”
    Joe mumbled something unintelligible, stumbled from the stable and staggered straight into the garden without regard to the vegetables he crushed. Chase winced as the young man fell in the dirt then picked himself up and entered the house on tiptoe. The door closed softly behind him.
    Chase let out a long sigh. He had no right to tell Joseph Rawlins what to do, but he felt pity as well as respect for Mrs. Rawlins. A kind and generous woman, too nice in too many ways, Joe, fatherless for the past year, took advantage of her gracious nature. Chase disliked disrespect for one’s parents. If nothing else, perhaps Mrs. Rawlins could get some rest.
    “You deserve a rest, too, don’t you, boy? We’ve had quite a ride to Denver City and back.” He turned his attention to Champion, unhitched his saddle and removed the thick blanket that protected his back. “A nice brushing, some oats and you’ll be in horse heaven.”
    The ebony stallion nickered and lipped at his hand.
    With Champion settled, Chase saw to himself. He grabbed his saddlebags and entered the boarding house through the kitchen. A lantern burned in the middle of the table, the soft light illuminating half an apple pie in its tin beneath a glass dome. His stomach growled, but he had no appetite. Exhaustion made the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other an effort and yet, he continued, the thought of that soft bed spurring him on.
    Footsteps trod the floor in the room above him. He paused and stared at the ceiling, imagining someone pacing with great agitation. A muffled thud made him jump. Had someone fallen? Dropped something? As he concentrated on the noises, his heart rate picked up. The fine hair on the back of his neck bristled and his stomach dropped. The room above him wasn’t just any room.
    It was his room.
    And someone made no secret of searching it.
    The staircase lay on the other side of the dining room, down a long hallway—with no carpet or rug to soften his footsteps. He moved with exaggerated slowness. Another thump, this one louder, made him stop with one foot on the bottom tread of the stairs. He slung his saddlebags over his shoulder, drew his pistol and cocked it with practiced ease.
    With the stealth of a cat on the prowl, he climbed the stairs, remembered which riser squeaked and stepped over it. At the top of the stairs…his heart stopped pounding for a moment before it resumed with a painful thud.
    Kathryne stood in the hall, one hand raised to knock on his door, the other holding a book, her