Pieces of Sky by Kaki Warner Read Free Book Online

months ago, she should be much further along in her confinement. Unless the baby wasn’t her husband’s. Blast . If she was to continue this fabrication, she really must perfect her lying. Luckily no one knew she was pregnant or that her timing was off.
    No one except Wilkins. She recognized that speculative look in those hard blue eyes. Apparently the dolt could count. No doubt he thought her wanton. Or a liar. Or both. Not that she cared. To prove it, she hiked her chin and returned his smirk, refusing to let him see her shame.
    His mustache twitched. For a moment she feared he might say something, then thankfully, Mr. Ashford drew his attention. “Didn’t I hear Cook mention you had a ranch in this area?” he asked him. “Rose-something?”
    With one long big-knuckled finger, Wilkins pushed back his hat and turned to study the man beside him. “RosaRoja,” he finally said in that husky voice.
    “Ah yes. The Red Rose Ranch, named for the roses planted by the previous owners, the Ramirez family, I think it was.” Ashford brushed dust from his sleeve. “I hear it’s quite a spread. Part of an old grant sold for back taxes after the Mexican war. Pennies on the dollar, I heard.”
    Wilkins didn’t respond. But that coiled energy was back.
    Ashford seemed oblivious. “I do advance work for the Texas and Pacific,” he explained. “Banking, labor—”
    “Right-of-ways?”
    “That, too.” He didn’t appear to notice the chill in Wilkins’s voice. “Hard country,” he went on, nodding toward the window and the rocky slope rising on his side of the coach. “Frostbite in winter, heatstroke in summer. Unless you have water, of course. Good water is worth its weight in gold out here. Especially to a railroad.”
    “Or a cattleman.” Wilkins’s unblinking gaze never wavered.
    “Or a cattleman,” Ashford agreed. “Ever think of selling out?”
    Before Wilkins could answer, something under their feet snapped with a crack as loud as a gunshot. The coach lurched to the left. Ashford fell into Melanie. Maude screamed. Above the shriek of metal on stone, Phelps shouted in panic. “Jump clear! Jump clear!”
    The coach tipped up, then started over.
    Jessica crashed against the door. Cursing, Wilkins threw out an arm to keep from falling on top of her, then yanked her clear as the coach slammed onto its side. The door exploded in splintered wood. Dust billowed in. Screams rose above the squeal of horses and the crack of breaking wood as the coach started to roll.
    Jessica felt herself falling. Rough hands caught her. A flash of bright aqua eyes, then the next instant she was windmilling through sunlight and empty air.
    The coach thundered past.
    She hit hard on her side and began to slide down the slope on loose rock. She grabbed at a passing bush, felt her glove rip as branches tore through her fingers. Stones pelted her back. Dust filled her nose. In a roar of cascading rock, she slipped faster and faster.
    A hand grabbed her arm, stopping her downward slide with a yank that sent a shock of pain through her shoulder. She clung to it, fighting for air as stones clattered past. The grip shifted and suddenly a hard arm clamped so tightly around her ribcage she couldn’t draw in air.
    Time spiraled backward and fear exploded.
    “Don’t!” She bucked, legs kicking. “John, no!”
    His grip tightened as they teetered. “Don’t fight me or we’ll both go down!” he shouted in a voice that wasn’t his.
    In mindless terror she clawed at his arm, ripping through cloth, digging deep with her nails. “John, stop! Let me go!”
    A rock slammed into her head.
    A burst of light and pain.
    Then blackness sucked her down.

Three

    PAIN CAME AT HER FROM ALL SIDES—HER BACK, HER SHOULDER. A pulse hammered inside her head. Sharp rocks dug into her back, and the ground beneath her was so hot it burned into her skin.
    Then she felt hands moving across her body.
    With a strangled cry, she tried to roll away, but the hands