All I Need Is You by Johanna Lindsey Read Free Book Online Page B

the saddle, though, was precarious at best, and he suddenly felt quite sorry for Vince, sitting behind Billybob with his hands tied behind him and no way to prevent a fall if he lost his balance.
    At least Damian had Kid’s reassuring “Hold on to me if you have to. We’re not going to do any hard riding, so you shouldn’t have any problems staying put.”
    They set out immediately, but it wasn’t long before Vince started his complaints, and not just about being forced to ride with his hands tied. He was quite loud and extremely insulting with his choice of swear words in telling Damian what he thought of his broken nose.
    But Kid finally put a stop to it with a yelled “If you want to eat tonight, shut up,” and Vince shut up.
    Damian smiled to himself. He had to admit, Kid had a no-nonsense style to be admired—at least under some situations. Actually, he was forced to revise his original opinion of the boy. Despite his less than perfect grammar, Kid was obviously intelligent. He was also extremely competent for his age, and had strong, if somewhat bossy, leadership qualities. He added up to a very intriguing, if disturbing, young fellow. Damian wished he could figure out what exactly did disturb him about the lad, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
    Considering the ease with which he had taken care of the two stage robbers, and his intent to bring them in to the law, he obviously hadn’t been bragging or lying about his profession, or the number of men he’d personally brought to justice. He was damned young to be a bounty hunter, but Damian had to suppose that his skill with a weapon made the job rather ideal for him—dangerous, but ideal.
    His personal habits, on the other hand, coulddefinitely use some improvements. He had just camped by a river that had offered usable, if barbaric, bathing opportunities, but he hadn’t taken advantage of them. Or if he had before Damian showed up, it certainly wasn’t noticeable. Under such close proximity, Damian soon became aware of the odor that permeated the kid, and it was far from pleasant.
    When they stopped for a short period around noon to rest the horses and stretch their legs, Damian was quick to fetch a handkerchief from his bag—he’d been so pleased when he looked back and noticed it strapped to the saddle of the horse that was being led. But the handkerchief, pressed unobtrusively to his nose so as not to give offense if the kid happened to glance back at him, helped only minimally.
    Normally, Damian would never have broached such a personal subject, but toward late afternoon, after smelling that odor all day, he couldn’t keep back the question any longer. “Do you live in those clothes?” he asked bluntly.
    “Pretty much,” came the easy reply. “Keeps the critters away at least.”
    Damian couldn’t tell if the boy was joking, so he didn’t bother to ask what critters he was referring to. He sighed, figuring he’d have to live with it until they reached town, which was another question...
    “Will we see this Coffeyville by tonight, do you think?” he asked hopefully.
    The kid didn’t bother to look back to answer. “We might have, without those two owlhootsslowing us down, but now? I seriously doubt it, Mr. Rutledge.”
    Another sigh; then, merely to continue the conversation, Damian said, “Considering our close, if temporary, association, why don’t you call me Damian? ‘Mr. Rutledge’ sounds rather—out of place out here, don’t you think? And you must have something else that you’ve been called during your short lifetime other than Kid?”
    “Well, I use ‘K.C.’ when I have to sign things legallike, if that’s what you mean.”
    “What do the initials stand for?”
    “Stand for?” There was a shrug. “Nothing. I was just making my mark the first time I had to sign for a reward, when the sheriff who saw me make it figured he was reading a ‘K.C.,’ and it kind of stuck after that—leastways, that particular