Tracker’s Sin by Sarah McCarty Read Free Book Online Page B

convenient for the Moraleses. Tracker folded the tortil a around the contents. “Not even your husband?”
    He took a bite of the tortil a. She shot him a glare. “I’m not crazy!”
    He chewed and swal owed. “I didn’t say you were.”
    She frowned and bit her lip. Her teeth were very white against the ruby-red flesh. If she kept biting her lips like that they were going to be
    raw. “Only a crazy woman couldn’t remember her husband.”
    It was just a whisper, but it contained so much pain. He wanted to reach out and hold her, and tel her it was a blessing she couldn’t
    remember, a gift she should hold on to, because the truth was too horrible to be borne. Instead, he took another bite, chewed and swal owed, before
    saying, “Head wounds can be tricky.”
    “That’s what the doctor said.”
    “At least you have your child.”
    Her whole expression softened. “Yes.”
    Tracker set the tray aside. “How old is your baby?”
    “Six months. He’s just beginning to crawl.”
    The last of Tracker’s hunger left him. Six months was too old. Ari would have had to have gotten pregnant when she was with the
    Comancheros.
    “What’s wrong? Don’t you like the food?” she asked.
    “I’m just feeling a bit off my feed. It was a hot morning for plowing.”
    “Pappa is determined we have more garden space.”
    “I noticed.”
    Ari shifted in the chair, clearly wanting to leave, but just as clearly held in place by another desire.
    “Something on your mind?”
    She nodded and took one of those betraying breaths. Threading her fingers together, she clenched them until the knuckles showed white.
    “My parents are going to ask you to leave.”
    “I figured that.” Nothing like having your daughter fal ing into a fit at the sight of the new handyman to clinch a decision.
    “I don’t want you to go.”
    It was his turn to blink. “Why?”
    “I heard my parents talking. I know who you are.”
    Who he was seemed to be pretty important to these people. “And who’s that?”
    “You’re a Texas Ranger. One of the meanest.”
    “I guess that would depend on who you talk to.”
    She looked disappointed, and more than a little skeptical. Her gaze lingered on the scar slicing down his cheek. “You’re not mean?”
    “Mean enough to get the job done.”
    “I need you to be very mean.”
    “I’l ask you again—why?”
    “My father is in trouble.”
    “He didn’t make any mention of it.”
    “He wouldn’t. He likes to think he can handle everything, but he’s old now and he can’t fight the way he used to.” She glanced at Tracker,
    fear in her eyes. “The men who would hurt him are vicious kil ers. They have no consciences or souls.”
    “How do you know?”
    She shook her head as if bewildered. A curl fel loose from her bun, bouncing against her cheek. She shoved it behind her ear. “I just do.”
    He bet she did, even if she was talking to him as if he couldn’t trigger a bad memory if he wanted to.
    “I know enough to know that if things continue the way they are, those men are going to kil my father. He knows it, too. That’s why he
    wants the garden bigger. So Mama and I can support ourselves.”
    “Would those men be the gringos who came to town last fal ?”
    “You’ve met them?”
    Tracker shook his head. “Haven’t had the pleasure yet.” But he would. It was a bit too coincidental that trouble of that type came to the
    smal town where Ari had taken shelter after the Moraleses had found her. As a matter of fact, a lot of the circumstances surrounding Ari’s rescue were
    convenient.
    She frowned. “If you do, you’d better be good with those guns.”
    It’d been a long time since someone had questioned Tracker’s skil . “I’l keep that in mind.”
    She licked her lips again. His cock hardened, pressing painful y against the seam of his pants. He barely bit back a “Stop doing that.”
    She stood up so fast her skirts swayed. “I want to hire you.”
    He stood, too. Another