Boyett-Compo, Charlotte - WesternWind 01 - Wynd River by Sinner (Ellora's Cave) Read Free Book Online Page B

about it, woman,” a man’s voice said in a severe tone. “If’n he was after you, he’d
    not think twice of using that whip of his.”
    “Aye, well, you didn’t see the way he looked at that little gal. He was fair to eating her up with them
    golden eyes of his,” the older woman said, and then sighed so loudly Aingeal could hear her. “They say
    when a Reaper mates, he’s like a wolf and does it for life. The gods help anyone stupid enough to try to
    take her away from him.”
    Aingeal coughed—letting the couple behind the door know she was nearby. She pushed the door open
    and stuck her head in. “Could I have a couple of pieces of toast with my eggs?” she asked.
    “By Alel’s tooth, you sure can!” Katy said. She reached for a loaf of bread and sliced off two pieces.
    “Anything else you want, dearie?”
    “Some company while I eat?” she asked.
    Katy exchanged a look with the man Aingeal surmised was her husband. At the man’s careless shrug,
    Katy said she’d get herself a cup of coffee and join Aingeal as soon as the bacon finished frying up.
    Going to the windows, Aingeal was disheartened to see the rain coming down in sheets. Lightning still
    flashed in the distance, although the thunder wasn’t nearly as loud. Storm—the Reaper’s horse—was no
    longer tied to the hitching post in front of the eatery.
    “Bad day to be out and about,” Katy said as she came in with the tray of Aingeal’s food. She carried it
    to the table and waited until her guest was seated before putting the fresh plate in front of Aingeal. “It’s
    good to see a young one as skinny as you eating a decent amount of food.”
    “It’s good to be able to do so,” Aingeal confessed.
    Katy frowned. “He ain’t been feeding you?” she demanded, her eyes narrowed.
    “I just met him last evening,” Aingeal said, and risked a glance at the older woman, trying to gauge her
    reaction.
    Katy’s left eyebrow arched up into the fuzz of her white hair. “Well, I’d say you’ve done right good for
    yourself in a short amount of time, wouldn’t you?”
    Aingeal could feel her cheeks burning as she slipped her fork into the creamy eggs. “I think he’ll be good
    to me.”
    “Reapers are rich men,” Katy stated. “Or so I’ve heard.” She eyed the golden coins on the table. “This
    one seems generous, don’t he?”
    “Aye, he does.”
    The two women talked idly of the weather, the coming winter and the need to be safely in a town before
    the deluge of snow covered the plains. Aingeal finished everything on her plate and even managed to
    down a piece of peach cobbler. She sighed heavily—wishing she could take a long nap—then retrieved
    her hat before going to the door to look in the direction Katy was pointing.
    “Take the umbrella, dearie,” Katy said. “You can leave it at the livery. I won’t be going out in this muck
    today.”
    Thanking her hostess, Aingeal went out on the porch, opened the umbrella and headed across the
    slippery street where dirty red water was running in streams. Lightly picking her way across the muddy
    expanse, she was grateful for the boots Cynyr had fashioned for her.
    The livery smelled of hay and horse manure as she ducked inside, scraping her boots on the edge of the
    big double door. The Reaper’s horse was just inside the building, chomping on a small mound of hay.
    Storm greeted her with a soft nicker so she reached out to pat him. She could see her Reaper and a
    young man standing near the back. Cynyr was checking the cinch on a pretty little brown mare. He
    looked around as she came toward him.
    “I thought this pony would do nicely for you, wench, but maybe we need a palfrey, instead.”
    Aingeal rolled her eyes. “Very funny,” she said, and came up to him to stroke the mare’s velvety head.
    “She’s beautiful. What’s her name?”
    “Whatever you want to call her,” Cynyr replied. He was wearing a long black duster that covered him
    from neck to