A Ransomed Heart by Alex Taylor Wolfe Read Free Book Online Page A

the sweet sound of her mother’s voice to leave. “Annie, Annie, Annie…”
    “Annabelle!” 
    She sat up with a jerk, where was she? Then it dawned on her she was still in the tent, somewhere far away from where she needed to be.  The persistent voice called again.
    “M iss Casey, Annabelle!”
    “What ?” her voice wheezed, sounding very much like a sick bullfrog.
    “You need to get up, we’ve gotta get moving.” It was Logan’s rich baritone ringing though the morning air.
    She rubbed her face with both hands and stretched. It was early and she was still so tired, and every corner and crevice of her body ached.  The night had been a jumbled mass of bad dreams and tossing and turning.  Laying back down, she pulled the skirts up around her shoulders and yawned. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep and find her mother again. Refusing to open her eyes again she listened as Logan tried to pull the tent flap back only to find it tied closed. 
    “Who the hell tied this closed?”
    She smiled a wicked smile. “Me!”
    “Well untie it!” It was a direct command.
    “NO!”  The smile got bigger.
    “Annabelle, you untie this or I am going to take the tent down around you.”
    She laughed, it rang through the river valley like the song of a bird and she clasped her hand over her mouth startled by the sound. Peeking open one eye she looked over at the door and tried her best to be serious. “You could try saying please.”
    He growled outside the tent. This woman was absurdly frustrating and drove him mad. She was his hostage for Pete’s sake. Rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck he took a deep breath. Why did everything with her need to be so painful? His left shoulder ached especially from their tumble in the brush the night before. He was sure if he took a closer look at his arms and legs he would be covered with cuts and bruises. “Annabelle…”
    “Who?” her voice was still playful.
    “M iss Casey,” he said through gritted teeth, “would you please come untie the tent and join us for breakfast?”
    Her dress rustled inside and a few minutes later he could see the tent flap move under her hands. A few moments later she poked her head out and smiled radiantly at him. “I’d love to.”
    All he could do was look at her for a few moments.  Her eyes looked bright , blue, and calm, unlike the last time he had seen them. The strawberry hair was tamed into a thick braid down her back and her rose lips were stretched across a perfect and petite mouth.  She was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and the thought of their brief intimate moment the night before flashed though his mind.
    Before he could speak she disappeared back into the tent.  He was to afraid to look in after her so he just waited.  There was a strange sound of ripping fabric and moments later she returned with part of a petticoat slung around her shoulders for warmth.  Politely she lifted her dress and stepped out of the door and around his still unmoved body.  A faint honeysuckle fragrance followed her slight frame and Logan squelched a growl. Man, she smelled good. Shaking his head he furrowed his brow.  What the heck was wrong with him?
    Annabelle smiled at everyone that morning during breakfast.  Logan put Kit in charge of her while they broke camp but when it was time to mount up he hovered around her.  She hoped she wouldn’t need to ride with him again or that he wouldn’t tie her wrists; she wondered if he trusted her enough to let her be free.  After last night she wouldn’t be surprised if he used those dreaded handcuffs. Without waiting to see what Mr. Bailey’s plan was for her, she pulled one of the stagecoach horses over to a stump and slipped on him bareback.  The wagon tack had been cut back and now the reins were a usable length for single riding.  She chose the traditional male position over sidesaddle and draped her legs over either side of the animal’s warm flanks.