Read Online Come Spring by Jill Marie Landis - Free Book Online Page B

convinced herself she was wrong. A man who would treat a woman so callously would never show concern.
    She bit her lower lip and suppressed a shiver of fear when he began to untie the rope. He rewrapped it about the pommel and then took her hands between his own gloved ones. Without a word, without another glance at her face, he began to rub life back into her fingers.
    The surprising gesture so unnerved her that she looked away from the sight of his hands on hers. She looked instead at the odd hooded buckskin jacket that had obviously been hand sewn and wondered who had taken the time to carefully fashion the garment for him. It appeared to be lined with fur of some kind, a soft, rich gray pelt that kept him as warm as she wished she were. With the hood up, the fur framed his tanned face. His cheeks were reddened by the wind and cold, his eyes a far brighter blue than she had noticed before. At such close range she could see the fine, curling gold lashes that rimmed his eyes and was astonished to note that such a rugged, uncivilized man possessed eyelashes any woman would envy.
    He startled her by glancing up just then to meet her gaze. She found herself staring into his clear blue eyes and then, suddenly aware that he had let go of her, she clasped her hands together.
    He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about your wrists.” He began to strip off his gloves.
    The apology surprised her, but didn’t soften her feelings toward him. She wanted to snap at him, wanted to say that if he hadn’t wanted to hurt her he would have never taken her off the train, but, afraid of pushing him too far, she bit her tongue and merely nodded. He reached up and took her right hand and slipped his own glove over it, gently fitting her fingers into the proper places. He did the same with her left.
    “Why didn’t you bring any heavy clothes, Alice? Don’t you own a proper coat?”
    Without bothering to again protest the use of the name Alice, Annika shook her head in frustration. “Own a coat? Ha! I own four coats, all of them perfectly good, and all of them in my trunks in the baggage car. If you had listened back there, if you had only ridden on to Cheyenne and found out who I really am, you’d realize I have four trunks and three crates of clothes I was taking with me to my brother’s. But no, you had to act like a barbarian and drag me off the train...”
    She stopped when his expression darkened. His brows drew close over hooded eyes and he crossed his arms over his massive chest. In a low, barely perceptible tone he said, “You said you’d quit complaining if I didn’t throw out the buttons.”
    Annika clamped her mouth shut.
    Buck stared hard at her for another few seconds, then turned away. She watched, wondering if he would really be cruel enough to throw out the tin after all. He walked to the second mule, quickly untied a rolled bundle, and shook out a thick wool blanket. He carried the blanket back to Annika and handed it up to her.
    “Put this around you. We’ve got a long way to go before we camp for the night.” With that he stalked back to his own horse and mounted, took up the reins to Annika’s horse, and without even a backward glance to see if she had a grip on her mount, started off again at the same breakneck pace.
    She struggled to pull the blanket tight around her without losing her seat, and managed to finally tuck it under her. Then she grabbed the pommel and held on for dear life. She had ridden since she was twelve, but never like this, never without control of her own mount. Annika realized it was this lack of control that made her so furious now. This man, this Buck Scott, was now in total command of her life.
    She hated that fact as much as she hated him.
    As he pushed the horses on, Annika realized that he knew the land well. He followed invisible guideposts as they moved higher, leaving the broad, open plain behind as they entered the foothills. Trees became abundant, changing shape as they