Liz Ireland by The Outlaw's Bride Read Free Book Online Page A

if the idea were plumb crazy. “There’s nothing to fear about having a gambler in the house, is there?”
    “Just the sheriff showing up again,” Emma muttered to herself as she carried the tea tray out of the kitchen.
    “I think it’s time to move you upstairs, Johann.”
    Now that his fever seemed to be under control, Emma definitely wanted to get Mr. Archibald out of sight.
    Her suggestion brought a smile to her patient’s face. “I sure wouldn’t mind sleeping in a real bed. I’m afraid I’m about ten sizes too big for this parlor contraption.”
    She couldn’t help laughing. Considering how weak he must feel, and who he probably was, Mr. Archibald was one of the most pleasant invalids she’d ever met. In fact, it was his affability that made her doubt sometimes who he really was. Outlaws, she imagined, were sinister creatures with bad manners and no humor; despite his rough looks, Mr. Archibald seemed almost refined in his manners.
    She was a little dismayed at how much she enjoyed talking to him. She still felt anxious at the way he’d grabbed her the night she’d found him, and sometimes when he looked at her, the kiss would spring to mind, making her cheeks warm and bringing a flurry of unfamiliar sensations. Again and again she had to remind herself she was being a goose. It would be one thing if she were remembering a kiss from a real beau. But her man had been losing consciousness and probably hadn’t even meant to kiss her. It had been an involuntary reaction, like a twitch.
    “It’s most neighborly of you to take me in like this, Emma.”
    “It’s nothing.” Nothing law-abiding, she feared.
    His eyes warmed. “I owe you my life. That’s something—to me, at least.”
    She heard a note of desolation in his tone, and a sharp stab of sadness spiked her heart for him. Whoever he was, gambler or outlaw, he’d obviously seen trouble. “I’m sure you must have people somewhere who will be glad to hear that you’re well. When you’re feeling better, I’ll write a letter for you.”
    She also wanted to advise him not to give her any more hints that he was alone in the world, a wanted man. She felt better thinking of him simply as Johann Archibald. A ridiculous name—and yet it was pleasantly different than Lang Tupper, the name she was trying to tuck safely intothe back of her mind. “No one would have done any less than I have.”
    He chuckled, then pushed himself up with a wince. “Pretty, modest and talented to boot.”
    Pretty . Her gaze flew to his, wondering if he was thinking of their kiss…. But his gaze wasn’t lascivious, just flattering. He seemed to have forgotten all about the liberty he’d taken with her. If only she could! She didn’t know what to say. No one had called her pretty in…well, she wasn’t sure how long. Lately she’d become more accustomed to comments like those she’d received from Joe. That she was thin, pale and spinstery. But Johann wasn’t looking at her as if she were a spinster.
    “Not many people would have known how to treat a wound like mine, ma’am,” he went on. “Fortune must have been smiling on me to lead me up to your porch. Just how did you learn to care for the sick?”
    “My father was a doctor. He died a few months ago.”
    Eyes the color of rich chocolate stared at her with piercing understanding. “I’m sorry.”
    She wondered whether he, too, had lost someone close to him. That would account for the sadness around his dark eyes. She wondered…
    Well, the question that leapt immediately to her mind was if he had lost a wife or sweetheart…or whether he had one still. As if that was any of her business! She was interested only in taking care of him, healing him. The trouble was those eyes of his. They had been bothering her ever since he’d awakened. No one she’d ever known had stared at her so closely; it was unnerving. What was he trying to learn? And how could she become so undone by a simple gaze?
    “Lorna, could