ChasetheLightning by Madeline Baker Read Free Book Online Page A

as weak as a newborn colt.
    Moments later, he sensed the woman’s presence in the room.
“You must be hungry.”
    “Yeah.”
    “What would you like to eat? I’ve got some chicken noodle
soup.”
    “Soup!” He opened his eyes and glanced at her over his
shoulder.
    “Well, what do you want? Steak?”
    “Rare.”
    “All right. What do you want with your steak?”
    “Anything you’ve got is fine.”
    “All right.” If he was hungry enough to eat a steak, he
couldn’t be too bad off. She moved around to stand in front of him. “Here.” She
handed him a glass of water, and held out her hand. “Take these.”
    He stared at the two small white things in her hand.
“What’re those?”
    “Aspirin.”
    He frowned up at her. “Aspirin?”
    “For your fever.” She shook her head. “For heaven’s sake,
you’d think you’d never seen aspirin before.”
    Well, she was right about that. He took them from her hand
and popped them in his mouth, grimaced at the horrible taste.
    The woman sighed. “You’re supposed to wash them down with
water.”
    He drained the glass, rinsing the bad taste from his mouth,
then handed it to her.
    “Where are you from, anyway?” she asked.
    “From here.”
    “Arizona?”
    He nodded.
    She looked at him oddly for a moment. “Have you got a name?”
    “Trey.”
    “Just Trey?”
    He nodded, unwilling to share his last name. “And yours
would be?”
    “Amanda.”
    “Just Amanda?” he asked with a wry smile.
    “Just Amanda. Are you sure there isn’t someone you want me
to notify that you're here?”
    “I’m sure.”
    “Well, I’ll go fix that steak,” she said, heading for the
door. “Rare.”
    He stared after her. There was something strange going on
here, something not quite right. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but
something was definitely wrong.
     

Chapter Six
     
    Amanda stood in the kitchen, staring out the window while
she waited for the potatoes to boil. She didn’t know what it was, but there was
something definitely wrong here. Something out of sync about…what was his name?
Trey. Just Trey.
    He was a handsome man, not pretty boy handsome the way Rob
was handsome, but handsome in a rugged, masculine sort of way. She smiled at
her reflection in the window. Sort of the way Tommy Lee Jones was sexy, with
that gravelly voice and killer smile. Why hadn’t he known what aspirin looked
like? Why was he wearing a gun? And clothes that looked sort of…outdated? If he
really were an actor, or one of those guys who liked to play cowboy, perhaps
the trauma of getting shot for real had blurred his memory.
    She had washed and dried his shirt and pants. His trousers
were folded over the back of a kitchen chair; his shirt was draped over the
trousers. She ran her hand over the shirt. Long-sleeved, and made of rough
flannel. With a neat, round hole in the back where the bullet had gone in.
    Just who was that man in her guest room? And why was she so
attracted to him?
    She checked on the potatoes, opened a can of white corn, put
the steak under the broiler. Opening the fridge, she reached for a carton of
milk, then shook her head and grabbed a can of the beer she kept on hand for
Rob instead. She couldn’t imagine the man in the guest room drinking milk.
    She turned the steak, mashed the potatoes, turned the fire
off under the corn. She put his dinner on a plate, put the plate on a tray,
added some silverware and the beer, and carried the tray down the hall to the
bedroom.
    Her patient was sitting up in bed, the sheet draped over his
lap. She felt a flutter of appreciation in the pit of her stomach as her gaze
moved over him. Long black hair fell past his broad shoulders. His stomach was
flat, ridged with muscle. And his arms…she had always had a weakness for men
with well-muscled arms, and Trey’s were right up there with the best she had
ever seen.
    She felt a wave of heat wash into her cheeks when he looked
up at her, one dark brow raised