Harper's Bride by Alexis Harrington Read Free Book Online Page B

liked it or not, he felt
responsible for her, and he couldn't very well let her and the baby
go around in rags and flour sacking.
    She lifted her face to his, and he got
another dose of her eyes, gray and clear. What was it he saw in
them? He sensed that there was another woman behind them, a
completely different one from the skittish, colorless female the
world saw.
    "Oh, but you've already spent too much," she
said, pushing at the strands of hair that had again come loose from
the knot at the back of her head. "As it is, I owe you money for
today, and for Coy. I don't want anything I can't pay for."
    "Never mind about that for now," he said,
annoyed at her mention of Logan. Even though he'd dumped her on
Dylan's front step, she still wanted to shoulder his obligation. He
had to admire her pride, but if he ever saw that money again, and
he certainly didn't expect to, it would not come from her. "You'll
work for me, just like I told you yesterday. But you can't wear the
same thing day after day. You should probably have a shawl, too. It
gets cold here at night sometimes, even in summer."
    "Of course, whatever you think best—" She
looked as though she would have said more, but apparently changed
her mind and dropped her gaze again.
    Dylan sighed. She had probably learned her
meekness just to get by in life. He supposed that a lot of men
would be more than pleased with her cowed, docile obedience.
    But Dylan Harper was not most men.
    *~*~*
    Dylan carried Melissa's purchases for her as
they made their way back through town to the store. Walking next to
him, she could not help but notice the wickedly long knife sheathed
in leather and resting against his thigh. That he might actually
use it was a frightening prospect, and but she thought it suited
him. She knew nothing about him, but he seemed as though he might
have lived much closer to nature than she had. His long,
sun-streaked hair and easy, graceful gait did not suggest a man who
had spent his days behind a desk or even a counter. Yet his
wildness was tempered, and he possessed better manners than the few
men of her acquaintance. With his long legs, he'd be able to walk
much faster than she, but she thought that he made an effort to
keep from getting too far ahead of her.
    When he did gain the lead, she found herself
studying his wide shoulders and straight back. Then her gaze
drifted down to his lean hips and backside, which were highlighted
by the snug black pants he wore today. Melissa didn't really know
much about men; her marriage to Coy had not been very enlightening,
and what little she had learned at Coy's hands wasn't good. But
Dylan bore a magnetic sensuality that she detected, even in her
ignorance. He was powerfully and cleanly built, and she supposed
that some women might find him appealing.
    As for herself, Melissa felt certain that she
would never want a husband again. But what people wanted and what
they got did not always agree.
    Returning to Front Street, she found it quiet
for now. The carnival atmosphere that poured out of every saloon
and dance hall along the wide, muddy thoroughfare each night
wouldn't get started again until mid-afternoon.
    "God, just look at what they've done to this
place," Dylan said, more to himself than to her. He pointed at the
surrounding hills, logged nearly bare. What didn't go for firewood,
and to build sluice boxes and pilings for mining operations, was
used in the explosion of new construction aided by the twenty hours
of daylight. Skeletons of half-raised buildings added to the wildly
contrasted landscape, and sawmills were kept running around the
clock. In place of the trees were white orchards of ragged tents
that housed ragged men, crowding the hilltops and spilling down
their sides. "When I came up here two years ago, it was nothing
more than some tents and a moose pasture. A few hundred people
lived here. It was hardly a paradise to begin with—it's pretty
swampy and the mosquitoes are so thick they'll eat a man