Midnight Lover by Barbara Bretton Read Free Book Online Page B

Indian Territory hadn't seemed nearly so dangerous as just standing at the depot at Silver Spur.
    From one of the saloons nearby she heard three quick gunshots and, despite the fact she would rather die right there on the spot than show it, fear began to shake her resolve. She gathered her courage around herself. If she cried in front of anyone it would be Abby and it would be in the privacy of her own room, not there on some filthy Western street in the middle of nowhere surrounded by derelicts and desperadoes and women hungry for a man, no matter what the cost.
    "Hurry, Abigail," she said, her voice sharp. "Certainly it shouldn't be taking you this long to find our trunks."
    Again that masculine voice from behind her. "Didn't nobody tell you Yankees that slavery is over?"
    "I beg your pardon?" Caroline turned halfway toward him; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of facing him head-on. Besides, the glare from the sun made it difficult for her to see him, putting her at a distinct disadvantage, something Caroline detested.
    "I said, slavery's over, ma'am." He slurred the last word in a fashion so sarcastic that her palm itched to slap him. "Should I tell your servant?"
    "She's not my servant," Caroline snapped. "She's my employee and I'll thank you to mind your own business." Picking up her skirts, she stepped off the curb. "Now if you'll just step aside..."
    He didn't.
    He moved closer and, despite the glare, she caught a glimpse of angular cheekbones and skin tanned the color of burnished gold.
    "You have a mighty sharp tongue for a spinster lookin' for a man."
    Everyone was watching her: Abby and the McGuigan sisters and the two Wilder girls and every filthy cowboy in Silver Spur. If she backed down now all of her dreams for the Crazy Arrow would be over before they began. Aaron may have been a pawn of fate but she'd be forever damned if the same thing happened to her.
    "Please move out of my way," she repeated.
    "Not much point," he answered, his voice a low, annoying drawl. "Ain't nothing much here for you."
    "I'd thank you to allow me to be the judge of that, Mr.—?"
    "Reardon," he said, doffing his hat and sweeping an exaggerated bow. "And you're—?"
    Before she could answer, the sickening crunch of fist meeting bone split the air and Caroline gasped as two cowboys, locked in mortal combat, crashed through the window of The Last Chance and landed close enough to spatter blood on her good leather boots. Control yourself, she warned, forcing air into her lungs. You've come this far. Don't fall apart now.
    "Mr. Reardon, I'm tired and I'm hungry and I am most assuredly not in the mood to debate the issue with you."
    "There's no issue to debate," he said, tossing her words back at her in a wickedly precise imitation of her Boston accent. "What you're lookin' for, we ain't willin' to give."
    "And what, pray tell, is that?"
    He moved so quickly she didn't have time to think, much less react. One moment he was standing there looking at her, the next moment, she was in his arms. His huge hands spanned her waist as he bent her torso backward.
    "Why, you—!"
    Her protests were stopped as he bent his head toward her. He was going to kiss her! A complete stranger, a cowboy she'd met just moments ago was actually going to put his mouth on hers and kiss her. What kind of insanity was this? Why wasn't she scratching at his face or screaming at the top of her lungs or withering him with one of her quelling glances that had worked so well back in Boston?
    Instead, it seemed that everything in her mind was rapidly vanishing except for the dizzying, terrifying knowledge that this was to be the dark and secret pleasure she'd always wondered about but never found.
    Just before she thought she would certainly swoon from the heat and the breathlessness and the shocking thrill of anticipation, the sound of gunshots pierced the fog she was in and a bullet whizzed past her left ear.
    "Jesse!" a man screamed. "Watch out!"
    The cowboy