Tags:
Fiction,
adventure,
Romance,
Historical,
Adult,
Action,
Western,
consequences,
19th century,
love,
Emotional,
best friend,
seduction,
sister,
American West,
Vincente Siblings,
Desperate,
Bloodshed,
RIDE THE WIND,
Saber Vincente,
Fiancée,
Kidnappers,
Lowdown Snake,
Beckoned,
Youngest Sister
to his feet, and his gaze went to the
western horizon. "I was just doing my job,
ma'am. Your major is paying me to bring you
back, so don't go making me out to be a hero."
She nodded, feeling crushing disappointment
at his words. "I thank you all the same. You did
put yourself in danger for me."
When she stood and moved closer to him,
Reese noticed that the top of her head came just
above his shoulder. She was tall for a woman,
but small-boned and fragile. How had she survived the rough handling of the Miller brothers?
His voice was gruff when he spoke. "You'll have
to wash from the canteen, since there's no creek
nearby."
She glanced at the bacon sizzling in the iron
skillet. "I'll make do. Now why don't you tend to
the horse, and I'll see to the cooking."
He arched a dark brow. "You can cook?"
Laughter sparkled in her eyes. "Mr. Starrett,
you might be interested to know I'm a very good
cook."
His mouth eased into a grin. "I'll trust you on
that, ma'am. I'll just get more wood for the fire."
Saber hummed to herself while she went through his saddlebag and found flour, then
mixed the ingredients for pan biscuits. By the
time Reese had returned, she was turning
golden biscuits onto a tin plate.
Saber ate one biscuit and half a slice of bacon,
while Reese hungrily devoured four biscuits and
most of the bacon.
"Well?" she asked, watching him bite into the
last biscuit with relish. "Can I cook?"
He gave her a slow grin. "Yes, ma'am, you can
cook. But can you cook real food?"
"Real food?"
"In a kitchen."
"Of course I can. Why would you doubt it?"
"You are a Vincente. Somehow I can't imagine
you in an apron silks and satins maybe, but
not an apron."
Saber's usual good nature plummeted. How
could he have such an unflattering opinion of
her? Dark lashes fell across her eyes to hide her
hurt. "I don't see what the one has to do with the
other."
"Ma'am, this isn't a gentle land, and most of
the women out here work hard and are old before their time. That will never happen to you.
You were born a lady to adorn the arm of a gentleman. Probably most men wilt when you bless
them with your smile. But when they look at
you, most of them will have one thing on their
minds and one thing only."
She was incensed. "Perhaps you have just described yourself, Mr. Starrett, but I doubt there
are many more like you." She dipped her head, thinking of the Miller brothers. She still didn't
know what had happened to her while she'd
been unconscious.
He looked at her lazily while shoving bullets
into the chamber of his six-gun. "I described myself right enough, Miss Vincente. I appreciate a
beautiful woman as much as any man, and I appreciate your looks. I don't care if I have your
good opinion, but I'd not object to having you in
my bed. Of course, that will never happen, but I
have my fantasies."
Her cheeks flamed, and she glared at him,
wondering why he was speaking so coarsely
when he never had before. Then she noticed that
his attention wasn't on her at all. He appeared
to be looking over her right shoulder. "You are
right about that, sir. I would never lie in your
bed, and I don't care to be part of your fantasies."
His eyes were sharp, compelling, intense,
sending an unspoken message that she didn't
understand. He took her arm, and she tried to
jerk away, but he was too strong for her. He held
her steady.
Saber watched him ease his thumb toward the
trigger. "Maybe not, but you sure as hell need
my protection." He raised his gun, and she
screamed, thinking he was going to shoot her.
But in a quick motion he knocked her to the ground and fired into the bushes just behind her.
Reese stood over her. She couldn't move because the fall had knocked the wind out of her,
and she was having trouble catching her breath.
When he spoke, Reese's voice took on a hard,
commanding tone. "I know you're there. The
next bullet won't be over your head. Come out
slowly with your hands
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley