Caine's Reckoning

Caine's Reckoning by Sarah McCarty Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: Caine's Reckoning by Sarah McCarty Read Free Book Online
Authors: Sarah McCarty
ordered, “Stay put.”
    And also an irritating one, she decided. Even if she leaned forward the reins were out of her reach, which meant she had no choice but to stay where he’d put her. Caine headed toward the area where the rest of the group waited, mounted. Each step was infused with that combination of strength, grace and confidence that once would have filled her with interest. He stopped at the side of an all-black horse, with white hindquarters covered with black spots, and opened the saddlebags. The horse snaked its head around, teeth showing. With an ease that spoke of long practice, he smacked it across the nose while pulling something free of the bag. Not brutally, but more in the way of a warning. As he tied the bag shut, the horse gathered its haunches as if to kick. Another light slap, this time on its hindquarters and the horse settled down. With a comment to the women who were waiting in various degrees of comfort on their horses, and a pat to the black horse’s shoulder as if what had passed between them were some sort of game, Caine headed back, tucking something into his back pocket before taking whatever he’d grabbed from under his arm.
    When he got close enough, he held up a brown wad of material lying on top of a pile of leather. “Thought you might like these.”
    The first “these” were woolen socks, the second, high-topped moccasins.
    “They’ll be too big.”
    He shrugged and tucked the moccasins under his arm. “They’ll do the job until you get your own clothes.”
    “I don’t have any.” The confession slipped out before she could catch it, snapping his gaze to hers. She quickly waved to the items in his hands. “Moccasins, I mean.”
    “Uh-huh.” He cupped her foot in his hands, warming it between his palms a second before bending to blow. His breath was hot and moist, scalding in comparison to the chill she felt to her bone. Before she could come up with a suitable protest, he worked the sock over her foot. As soon as he came around to the other side, she tucked her foot back against the horse’s withers.
    “I can do it myself.”
    “Not without risking falling off that horse, and I’d say at this point you have enough bruises.”
    As if that settled that, he hooked his fingers around her ankle and drew her foot forward. She suffered through another warming before he slid the sock on. He tipped his hat back when he was done. “Admit it, that feels better.”
    Even though she didn’t like the proprietary way he handled her body, she couldn’t deny how good it felt to have her flesh covered. She hated to be cold. “Yes, it does.”
    He slid the moccasin on, tying the fringed top above her knee, his touch impersonal again. “Good.”
    He went back around the other side, moccasin at the ready. She experimented with bending her right leg. She couldn’t straighten it all the way. She tried to flex it again as he slipped the other moccasin on. “I can’t walk in these.”
    He tied the second moccasin with the same impersonal efficiency as he had the first. “But you can ride, which is more important.”
    “What if we need to run?”
    “If it comes to a footrace, we’re both dead.”
    He pulled worn leather gloves from his back pocket. With a curl of his fingers, he ordered her to hold out her hands. She did cautiously, not liking the emotion flirting with the perimeter of his stern features. He slipped the gloves on her hands and then, before she could pull back, looped a long piece of rawhide around both her wrists, flipping the string between before she could protest. When he put her bound hands on the saddle horn, there was no mistaking the emotion tugging at his mouth. Amusement.
    He tipped his battered brown hat and grabbed up the reins, leading the paint toward the black-spotted horse. “Just in case you were thinking of running from me.”
3
    W ell, at least she was consistent. Caine shifted Desi as she sat sideways on his lap, pulling the thick collar of his

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