Kate Wingo - Western Fire 01 by Fire on the Prairie Read Free Book Online Page B

if that’s how she wanted it, he’d be only too happy to oblige her.
    “I bet you’ve never once pondered why Ned and the rest of ‘em are so determined to make war on the good folks of Kansas.”
    “Being Southerners from Missouri, they hate the fact that Kansas entered the Union a free state,” Mercy promptly retorted.
    “Think again, sugar. Most of those fellas back at your farmhouse don’t give a damn about slavery or states’ rights. Missouri farm boys, that’s what they are. Nothing but Missouri farm boys who back in ‘57 and ‘58 were forced to stand by and watch while jayhawkers like John Brown and that butcher the Dark Angel brutally gunned down their fathers and older brothers. And believe you me, those two bastards didn’t much care whether the southern men they killed were proslavery or not.”
    Although a staunch Unionist, Mercy inwardly acknowledged that Spencer McCabe was more than likely telling the truth . The war along the Missouri-Kansas border had long ago degenerated into a murderous tit for tat, few men bothering to don a uniform, let alone the cloak of patriotism. In the nine years since her family had settled in Kansas, she’d witnessed enough violence to last a lifetime.
    For several moments, she and Spence r stood silent, neither of them willing to take the argument any further. In the evening light, Mercy saw her own pain mirrored on Spencer’s face. And though curious to know if he, too, had been forced to witness the death of a father or a brother, she couldn’t bring herself to ask the question. Too much blood had been shed, too many loved ones lost. So many painful memories that could not be put to rest.
    “Come on, honey. It’s been a long day.”
    To Mercy’s surprise, Spence r wrapped a companionable arm around her shoulders.
    Bone weary, Mercy permitted him to lead her back to the house. Spencer McCabe was a Southerner; worse yet, he was a bushwhacker. But for some reason, a reason that she was at a loss to understand, it was easy to pretend otherwise.
    As Spence r slowed his long-legged stride, the two of them soon fell into step with one another.
    To her chagrin , Mercy realized that she was attired in a sweat-stained calico dress, one sleeve torn asunder, her hair hanging in unkempt tresses about her face. Certainly no prize to fight over. Yet that’s exactly what Spencer had been prepared to do. Twice already. In addition to which, he’d seen to it that her family had been kept out of harm’s way. The reason for the man’s gallantry, if his actions could be called such, mystified her.
    As they neared the house, more than one bushwhacker cast a glance in their direction.
    “Hey, McCabe. You’re not plannin’ to keep the little lady all to yourself, are you?”
    “Yeah, Spence. How about lettin’ the rest of us have a go at her?”
    At hearing the spate of lewd remarks, a rush of warm blood suffused Mercy’s face. Glancing at Spencer, she was incensed to see a smug expression stamped onto his face.
    Having suffered enough indignities for one day, Mercy yanked herself free from the masculine arm still slung around her shoulders. The moment she did, Spence r unexpectedly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against his chest. In the next instant, his mouth clamped down on hers in a brutally possessive kiss.
    Unrelenting, his mouth moved against Mercy’s tightly closed lips.
    “Damn, but Spence is puttin’ it to h er good,” someone jeered.
    Imprisoned in the steel band of Spence r’s arms, Mercy struggled in vain to free herself, pummeling his chest with balled fists. To her relief, the punishing kiss soon ended, Spencer pulling away from her with a look of pure, masculine conceit. Reeling in stunned disbelief, Mercy gaped at him.
    “You go on up to bed,” Spence r ordered in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’ll be along in just a few minutes.” Spinning on his heel, he then swaggered over to the circle of laughing men, more than one