Cougar's Prey (9781101544846) by Larry D. Sweazy Read Free Book Online

he never saw that woman again, it would be too soon.
    Noise from the crowd grew louder from inside the building. Josiah only had a second to decide whether to make a run for it, leading the angry mob to the only safe place he had left, his home, or trying to ditch them in the nearby Mexican section of Austin, “Little Mexico,” with which he was more familiar than most Anglos—or trying his luck with the coach. Either was a risk, but in the end, with the screams growing louder, and the crowd drawing ever closer, Josiah chose to trust Pedro.
    The manservant had showed him no ill intent in the past, but the allegiance the tall, well-groomed Mexican had to the Widow Fikes was unmistakable—he was loyal to her commands and whims more than to any other person without exception. Except for one: Pearl.
    Pedro was even more loyal to the widow’s daughter than to the widow, and it was that thought that prompted Josiah to jump inside the waiting coach.
    He slammed the door behind him as he dove into an empty bench seat.
    Darkness surrounded him as an unknown arm pulled the door closed and locked it tight.
    Chants came from outside as the crowd burst from the building in fervent chase. Someone threw a rock at the coach, and another angry pursuer hit it with a hand, struggling to open the locked door.
    â€œMurderer! Killer! Traitor! Hang! Hang! Hang!”
    Before Josiah could scream at Pedro to get a move on, the coach lurched forward and began to pull away from the crowd.
    Still lost in darkness, Josiah could not see what was happening outside of the coach, if they were surrounded or being chased. Nor could he see who was sitting across from him, but he had a hint; the smell of spring filled his nose. It was a familiar fragrance, one that he immediately recognized and associated with Pearl and not her mother.
    The coach was at full speed now, the inside still jarring and shaking as Pedro cut and turned every which way he could, obviously trying to escape the mob without causing any harm to anyone inside or outside, as he tried to shake the pursuers off his trail.
    â€œJosiah.” It was a whisper in the dark. It was Pearl. “I’m sorry, Josiah.”
    A shift of weight, then a rustle of clothes met Josiah ears, and he suddenly felt Pearl against him, burrowing her face into his chest.
    His eyes were adjusting now, and the side panels cracked and pulled as the coach sped away, teetering at the turns, allowing bits of harsh sunlight inside the close quarters. Thankfully, Pearl was alone.
    He was relieved to see her, but having her next to him, being alone with her, under no scrutiny at all, made him extremely uncomfortable—and happy at the same time.
    Josiah tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go, no escaping Pearl’s embrace. He felt his chest grow moist and realized that Pearl was sobbing into it. Her tears were warm and heavy. Crying women were a mystery to him.
    The loudness of the crowd had dissipated, but the ride in the coach was still thunderous and noisy.
    â€œI thought I would never see you again,” Pearl said, raising her face to Josiah’s.
    Even tearstained and full of emotion, there was no mistaking the striking beauty of the face of the woman Josiah found himself in the company of. He had to restrain every muscle in his body not to kiss her deeply.
    Pearl Fikes had long blond hair that looked like it came straight out of a fairy tale and could have been spun into gold. Her eyes, when not full of tears, were a soft blue and were gentle, loving, and kind—unless she was cross; then there was no mistaking that Pearl was the daughter of Captain Hiram Fikes, unyielding to fools and idiots, with a stubborn streak a mile long.
    Josiah was glad to be near Pearl, regardless of the scrutiny, glad to take in the fragrance of her skin, to touch her, to hold her.
    From the first moment he had seen her—standing on the balcony of the grand house on the estate in the