Charlotte Boyett-Compo- WayWard Wind by Unknown Read Free Book Online

should talk about this, Sloan,” she said. “You can’t just blithely inform me you are going to marry me and then let it go at that.”
    “What is there to talk about?” he countered. “You will marry me, wench. There’s no discussion to be had concerning it.”
    “But I don’t even know you!” she said. “Why would you want to ...?” She narrowed her eyes as understanding hit. “You want your father’s ranch back.”
    He snorted “I don’t want that land or have any need for it. I have no intention of returning to Texas.”
    “But if I marry you ....”
    He turned his direct gaze to her. “There’s no ‘if’ involved in it. You will marry me, wench, then you’ll go back to Texas--most likely with a bun in the oven--and live happily ever after. Tell me that’s not what you’ve wanted but thought you’d never have, wench.”
    She mulled that over then slowly nodded. “True, I never thought to, but do you really think it’s going to be that easy for you?” She tilted her head to one side. “As soon as my father learns what you’ve done, he will send his own men after you. Those men won’t be hampered with laws or consciences. If I know him, he’ll have his attorneys annul the marriage as soon as he hears about it.”
    “Won’t matter,” Harper said. “The important thing is that I did right by you and gave my child a name. Whether you choose to let him use it is up to you.”
    Peyton smiled. “That’s assuming I get with child and that it’s a boy.”
    “Aye.”
    She got up and went to the stove to stir the stew and check on the biscuits, which she took a pot holder and removed from the oven. When he told her the biscuits smelled good, she smiled. “I hope they taste as good as they smell. It’s been a while since I’ve made biscuits.” She glanced at him and noticed he was rubbing his right temple, his eyes narrowed as though he had a bad headache.
    “You’re staring again,” he mumbled and slumped back in the rocker.
    “Why does that bother you so much?” she asked, returning to the chair she’d vacated.
    He didn’t answer, just kept rubbing his temple.
    Snake came sauntering back in and her hands and face were clean this time. “Supper ‘bout ready?” she inquired.
    “In about ten minutes,” Peyton replied. She got up again to set the table and as soon as she did, Snake took the rocker.
    “You got one of them megrims, boy?” she asked, her eagle eyes on Harper and when he ignored her, she sighed loudly. “Want me to get the laudanum?”
    “No,” he stated and got up to go to the sink to wash up.
    “You have migraines?” Peyton inquired from the table.
    “Aye,” he admitted as he splashed cold water onto his face. He muttered thank you when she handed him a clean, dry towel with which to dry off.
    “Soup’s on, Miss Coronella,” Peyton called out.
    “Damn if I don’t like the way you say that name, girl,” Snake said.
    “Snake sounds so disrespectful,” Peyton declared.
    “She’s as mean as a cornered one,” Harper said.
    “I should have been around to whip your ass when you was younger and you wouldn’t be so goddamned pissy,” Snake commented as she pulled out her chair and sat down. “Goddamned governess sure didn’t do you no favors rearing you.”
    “I got plenty of whippings from my grandfather,” Harper told her.
    At Peyton’s inquisitive look, Snake explained, “Sloannie’s ma and pa left him over in Scotland to be brought up by that fancy crowd and they came back to Canada.” She took the plate of biscuits Peyton passed to her and took four of the ten. “My Anna-Lucia thought it was best the boy be raised amongst gentry instead of in a cat house.”
    Peyton’s lips parted and she turned to give Harper a stunned look. “I don’t suppose that means a place where they make whips.”
    Snake chuckled. “Use ‘em but don’t make ‘em there,” she said with a twinkle. “I’m speaking of a whorehouse, girl.”
    Harper refused to