M. Donice Byrd - The Warner Saga by No Unspoken Promises Read Free Book Online Page A

placed the smoking match in a tin can on the floor directly below.
    She placed the lantern in a bucket attached to a rope and pulley and hoisted the bucket to the level of the loft, anchoring it to a post.
    “Papa nailed blocks inside the pail so the lantern can’t move but don’t ever leave it in the bucket because it could conceivably burn through the rope.”
    She partially unfolded the blankets and tossed them over one shoulder. “After you.”
    Blake took the blankets from her and put them over his shoulder. “I imagine , with the skirts, you have enough to contend with already.”
    She glanced down involuntarily. “Not what I usually wear into the hayloft, I admit.”
    Because she usually rode her horse before or after her chores, she normally wore her riding skirts which were about six inches shorter.
    Blake clambered up easily and watched her intently as she picked her way up, alternately holding on with one hand while lifting her skirt and stepping to the next rung.
    “Maybe I should carry you down afterwards,” he said when she finally made it to the summit.
    “The problem coming down is my skirts hang on the rungs and I end up with half my leg showing.” She blushed deeply realizing she shouldn’t say that the type of thing to a man she barely knew. Jeez, everything she thought did spew from her mouth.
    “You say you want me to go down first?”
    At her gasp, he smiled roguishly.
    “I said no such thing!” she protested.
    He laughed outright at her. She sounded like a virgin protecting her innocence not like the married hellion who suggested her horse would mount him given half the chance.
    Blake removed the lantern from the bucket and she pointed out a nail he could hang it on. While she pitchforked hay into a thick bed for him, he retrieved his carpet bag from the workbench below where he had left it. By the time he’d returned, she had covered the hay with one of the blankets, attempting to contain it together by tucking the edges under in a makeshift mattress.
    She stood up and eyed her handiwork. It would’ve worked better if there were a large wooden frame to hold it together.
    “Hopefully, if you don’t thrash around in your sleep overmuch, you’ll be able to keep from sinking to the boards.”
    “It looks comfortable,” he said with hopeful uncertainty, in no hurry to get into it. “It’s still early and I have a deck of cards.”
    “I’ve never played.”
    “Never?” His eyebrows shot up in a surprised countenance as he dug into the depths of his carpetbag.
    She shook her head apologetically. “I would never gamble my horse either.”
    His head jerked around to face her. “You think I would take a wager for your horse?”
    “You took someone else’s horse,” she reminded him.
    “Thaddeus could afford the loss and he knew what he was doing. I wouldn’t take advantage of a beginner. We can just use some sort of token like matches or buttons or pebbles.”
    In a few minutes , they were back at the kitchen table with a jar of buttons divided between them, the rules explained and a few practice hands between them.
    “It seems strange to play without a drink or two in me.”
    She grinned at him then retrieved a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
    “I might as well add two new vices to my repertoire.”
    “Am I such a bad influence?”
    She eyed him through her lashes as she poured the amber liquid into a glass. “I don’t really need much encouragement. You know what they say about when the cat’s away.”
    Blake felt a bit sorry for her husband and wondered if the man knew she ran about unchecked during his absence.
    He suddenly realized she’d nearly filled the first glass. “Whoa, that’s way too much.” He took the bottle from her and dribbled half the liquid back into the neck of the bottle then split the remainder between the two glasses. “A little goes a long way unless you want to revisit your dinner.”
    She sniffed at the glass he handed her.
    “This smells