Cactus Flower (Gone-to-Texas Trilogy) by Shirl Henke Read Free Book Online Page A

her exposed derriere. “Oooh, damblast that hound!”
           A strange expression came over the big man's face. “Yer Dick's sister? Seems ta me he did mention havin' a kid sister once't er so, back in Missourah, warn’t it? How'd yew git here, a gal all alone?”
           Shifting uncomfortably in the slimy mud as her fanny began to ache from the dog bite, Charlee replied peevishly, “I can take care of myself. I hired with a wagon train after takin' the steamer down the Mississippi and up the Red. They're rivers,” she added with arrogant defiance, wanting someone else to feel the sting of humiliation.
           Before the big stranger in greasy buckskins could reply, another masculine voice spoke. “What in the hell is going on, Weevils? Sina and I heard the screaming and swearing even before we dismounted at the far corral!” As he observed the complacently washing cat and the bedraggled urchin sprawled beneath the tree, Jim Slade's face was a thundercloud.
           The dog, who had returned from hiding and sneaked behind the fat man called Weevils, began to shake, spraying both men generously with water.
           “Get that damn hound out of here before he ruins Mrs. Carver's riding habit,” Slade ordered. Weevils nodded and reached for the black beast, who allowed himself to be led away quietly.
           While this exchange was going on, Charlee remained on the ground, staring in rapt fascination at the tall, slim man who was the most striking male she had ever seen. He was dressed in form-fitting buckskin pants and a white shirt that was open at the throat, partially revealing a sun-bronzed, gold-furred chest. His hair was that same dark, dazzling gold, dense and straight, falling in one unruly swatch across a high forehead. The planes of his face were chiseled and hard, with a long, straight nose, high cheekbones, and square jaw. The late afternoon light accented his arresting golden eyes beneath thick brows of the same color. Now, as he turned to her, his brows rose and his eyes skewered her. A slowly warming smile spread across his broad mouth, revealing even, white teeth.
           “Well, what have we here, scamp? This is hardly the way for a boy to get himself a job,” Slade said with mock sternness.
           Charlee had pulled the shirt free of her breasts while Weevils and Slade talked. He thought she was a boy! Charlee wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it. She was filthy and bedraggled in front of this fascinating stranger. Never before had she wished to appear feminine and pretty! What in tarnation is wrong with me?
           Charlee scooted toward the nearby tree and carefully got to her feet, her back to the trunk. Her attempt to stand straight only made matters worse, because the wet shirt once more adhered to her breasts, while the loosened layers of the binder thickened her waist so as to give the appearance of a middle-aged spread on an otherwise coltishly slim body.
           “I’m no boy, for your information, mister. I'm Charlee McAllister, Richard Lee's sister. He's the foreman here, so you'd better not mess with me,” she spat furiously. The amused smile on his face broadened while he eyed her. Charlee could feel the burning heat of her flushed cheeks and cursed herself for the strange new way this man made her react. She added, “Who in hell do you think you are, insultin' a lady?”
           “The only lady present here is Mrs. Carver, and I don't appreciate your swearing in her presence!” Slade indicated the woman who stood a little to one side in obvious dismay at the debacle. She was elegantly dressed in a dark green riding habit and matching plumed hat. Her lustrous black hair was faultlessly coiffed, and she possessed coolly perfect cameo features.
           “Diego, you must straighten out this mess.” She stepped daintily up to her handsome escort and placed her slim ivory fingers possessively on his