Wild Horses by D'Ann Lindun Read Free Book Online Page A

Rose?” Jake opened the canvas bags and dug out a lantern. He lit the wick and placed the light in the middle of the table. Next, he found a pot, an opener and the can of stew she’d packed. He held it up. “Is this what you had in mind for dinner?”
    “Yes.” Her stomach grumbled and she realized she hadn’t eaten all day. While he opened the can, she hauled out the cooler and opened it. “There’s rolls, cheese and butter, too. Even apple pie for dessert. What really sounds good is coffee. In the bottom there should be a pot, bottled water and grounds.”
    “All that?” He rummaged around and found the coffee, water and the fire scarred pot before he poured the stew into a pan and hung it from the hook over the fire.
    She shrugged. “Martin and I used to come up here and camp. I learned how to pack a lot in a small space. We have enough to last until Friday.”
    Jake shot a glance her way. She looked a million miles away. Thinking about her brother, no doubt. Jake took the moment to study her. Long hair, disheveled by the rain, and nipples pressing against her T-shirt jolted him in places he couldn’t allow. He wouldn’t mind being stranded with her a lot longer than a few days. His mind better stay on Martin, not his sexy sister. The last time he got caught up with a woman in an investigation he almost woke up dead. He had to keep his guard up. She hadn’t answered his question. “So … Briar Rose?”
    She hesitated and he waited for her to make up her mind. Finally she spoke. “She’s not what I would expect.”
    “Why not?”
    Her words came slow. “Martin’s very traditional. He’s always preferred women of his own race.”
    “Maybe Briar Rose knocked him out.” He had an inkling how Martin felt. When Jake looked at Castaña she could take his mind off business without even trying.
    “Maybe.” She didn’t sound convinced.
    “Does she strike you as being up front about Martin?”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know her well enough to judge, but no, I don’t think she’s telling me all she knows.”
    His instinct, too.
    The stew bubbled in the pan and Jake stirred it. Water boiled in the coffee pot and he tossed in a few grounds. The aromas filled the small space and he inhaled appreciatively. With the low light flickering on the table, the fire cracking and Castaña moving about, Jake was enjoying himself. His muscles were a little stiff from riding, but he was a hell of a lot better off than he’d been less than two months ago when he’d been lying in a hospital room with a bullet wound in his shoulder and his career on the line.
    His gaze strayed to Castaña again. Her long brown hair had been pulled back in a tight braid, but the storm had ripped some strands loose and the light from the fire skipped across them, catching his eye. Even from across the room, he caught the light floral scent of her shampoo. His mind was definitely below his belt. He forced his attention to the stew, stirring it again. “It’s hot.”
    “I’m starving,” she declared.
    Using his sleeve as a hot pad, he carried the simmering pot to the stone table and set it there. She had wiped the rock table with paper towels and placed their plates on it. Jake waited until she sat, then joined her. They ate in companionable silence until he asked between bites, “Do storms around here usually last this long?”
    She shrugged and he couldn’t help noticing the way her nipples still pressed at the clingy fabric of her gray shirt. “Sometimes. It depends. When the monsoons hit, we have showers every afternoon. But this is just a freak thing.”
    “Have you ever brought someone special here?” Why did he care if she’d ever spent the night here with another man. Her love life was none of his business.
    “Just my brother.” She looked away. “Martin and I decided to run away and we came here. We were gone four days before we gave in and went home.” A wry smile crossed her lips. “It never occurred to either one