Read Online Agnes and the Renegade (Men of Defiance) by Elaine Levine - Free Book Online Page A

would. He knew we wouldn’t erase her ties to her culture or language—and we would love her as our own.”
    Aggie’s shoulders slumped as she considered how great Chayton’s sacrifice was. “I hope he at least gets to see her often?”
    Logan shook his head. “He doesn’t interact with her at all and very little with me. He provides a deer or elk or some other large game every few months. We trade hides for supplies whenever he needs anything.”
    “Where does he live, exactly?” Logan had shown her the general area, by the bluffs. But she needed directions so she could make a visit to him.
    He frowned. “You’re full of questions.”
    She nodded. “I’m hoping he might sit for me.”
    “Good luck with that.” He shook his head. “He’s like the wind: often there, but never seen.” He looked off to the west. “It’s best to keep with the landscapes if you wish to make your quota. He’s too elusive for you to chase, and the terrain can be dangerous. Besides, he prefers to be left alone.” He went toward his wagon and climbed up to the bench seat. “The offer for supper stands. Come up to the ranch anytime, whenever it fits with your schedule or you want a break from work. Sarah would be very happy to see you.” He waved to her, then continued down the road.

    Two days later, Aggie walked through the tent Logan had sent down. It had probably held twenty or so parishioners when it served as a church in Cheyenne. His men had also brought tools and lumber to build her additional easels and rig up racks for her to hang her finished work. They were screen-like wooden stands and would support several pieces on either side of each panel. This was almost as useful as Theo’s big warehouse.
    Intent on finishing the study she was doing of the sage and rabbitbrush, Aggie rode out to her hill. She had pastel chalks with her so she could capture the colors and light as they defined the scrubby bushes. She spread a blanket on the ground, then sat down next to a thick bush. Crossing her legs, she settled in for a short sprint.
    She drew a detailed sketch of a leaf, a single branch, several branches together, and then the whole bush. As usual, she wasn’t aware of time passing. When she finished the study of the rabbitbrush, something slipped into her consciousness. She held still, wondering what it could have been. There was no sound, no scent, but something was behind her. A chill wrapped around Aggie’s spine. She slowly twisted around to see who or what was there.  
    Chayton stood beside the creek bed, near her horse. He was tall, she realized—something she hadn’t noticed before. She waved to him, then turned back to the sketch she was working on. She wasn’t going to let him know that anything about him frightened her, though in truth, her hands shook too much to continue working.  
    A minute passed. Then two. She itched to turn around and see if he was still down there, but then there was a sound behind her. He’d crossed from the grassy area near the horses to the gravelly slope of the hill. She had no doubt that he could move without a sound, so the fact that he didn’t hide his footsteps seemed a kindness. Still, she did not turn around. Her breathing grew more rapid as he approached, closer with each step.  
    Though of course Chayton was only a man, Aggie felt as vulnerable as if a mountain lion was approaching. Her hands tightened on her sketchpad. Her gaze slowly focused on the image she’d been sketching. It was of him, a charcoal drawing of his face. Good heavens, but his eyes looked sad. And when had she switched from a sampling of the vegetation to drawing him? Oh God, and now it was too late to flip the page. He was standing right behind her. The hairs lifted along her neck. She held still, but he didn’t. He stepped around her, walking slowly, quietly now.
    She watched his leather-clad legs as he moved in front of her. Her dratted eyes cataloging the light on his leggings, the stains,