Cates, Kimberly by Briar Rose Read Free Book Online Page A

your horse will not carry me, there is only one logical choice left to us. Leave me here."
    Her eyes widened in horror. "Are you mad? I couldn't possibly!"
    She couldn't possibly leave him and preserve her own accursed life like a sensible creature. No, far better to die like an idiot! God save him from the moral pap of do-gooders! "The people who attempted to kill me will very likely strike again. This is none of your affair. Why put yourself in danger? Hitch up your wagon and leave, Miss Fitzgerald. I'd do it if I were you."
    "Then it's a good thing you're not me. I'll take you to the garrison myself."
    "You're not responsible for me or my misfortune. This is no time to be impractical."
    "This is no time to be a heroic fool!" she shot back.
    "There's nothing heroic in my motives," he assured her.
    "As for my not being responsible, Captain Redmayne, you're wrong. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and that if something or someone in need falls into my path, I'm meant to care for it."
    "I'm not a head-kicked dog, Miss Fitzgerald."
    "No, you take up far too much room on my bed to be a dog, Captain Redmayne. Be that as it may, I found you. You're too weak to tend yourself, so for the time being you belong to me."
    "Belong to you?" There was another time those words had iced his blood with terror. This time he choked out a stunned chuckle. "It makes no logical sense to—"
    "Captain Redmayne, I have a horse I can't ride and a guard dog who can barely see three inches in front of his nose. Any logical person would have drowned them both. You must see how futile it is to try to persuade me to leave you behind. Now you can let me help you into the caravan and back into bed where you belong, or I can wait until you fall unconscious again, break open your wounds, and then I can drag you back into the caravan by your heels."
    He looked as if he wanted to argue, but then stark resignation flooded his eyes. "Miss Fitzgerald, permit me to tell you that you make absolutely no sense."
    "I take that as a compliment, Captain," she said, looping one arm about his waist. As they started up the steps to the caravan, Milton bolted past them, barking uproariously, as if he'd just noticed a new friend in their midst.
    The dog leaped in the air, attempting to lick the captain's face, when suddenly his canine head cracked into the dishpan hanging overhead.
    It tumbled down, clanging as it collided with Captain Redmayne's temple. The officer stifled a groan as it bounced off his injured shoulder.
    "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Rhiannon apologized, dismayed. "It's just that—that Milton likes you!"
    White-faced, Redmayne sank back down onto her tiny bed, rubbing the bruise the pan had left. "Miss Fitzgerald," he murmured hazily, "no offense intended, but I might have been better off with the assassins."
    She almost thought his lips curled into a smile as he drifted back into unconsciousness.

CHAPTER 3
    She was humming, blithely off key. Redmayne buried his face deeper in the pillow. Such an overabundance of cheerfulness this early in the morning should be made a capital offense. No. Hanging would be much too merciful a fate—but at least it would make things quiet.
    Surrendering, he shoved himself upright, uncertain exactly why he was wincing. The twinge in his shoulder? The slicing of cat claws as that infernal hell-born feline scrabbled off his chest, or the fact that Miss Fitzgerald had given up humming and actually broken into song!
    He blinked like bedamned in an effort to focus his eyes. The woman must have a nice sturdy rope someplace in this caravan. If he couldn't manage to hang her, he might be able to hang himself.
    "Good morning, lay-abed!"
    Redmayne stifled a groan as she careened into his line of vision like a drunken butterfly, her face wreathed in a blindingly radiant smile.
    If he ever did hunt down the traitor, he knew exactly what kind of torture he'd inflict to get the man to confess his crimes—lock him in a room with