Read Online Lone Star Loving by Martha Hix - Free Book Online

desert her?
    Dark fear arose, blacker than what she felt to be an uncertain fate at the hands of an enigmatic kidnapper. Abandonment. Once, when she was nine, she’d gotten separated from her family on a trip to San Antonio. It was the next morning before Papa and Mutti found her. After she had spent the most terrifying night of her life.
    And tonight–tonight she was chained to a tree.
    She might never see Paris again.

Chapter Seven
    â€œHawk? Hawk, where are you!”
    â€œI’m right here.”
    Charity jumped at the sound from behind her. Turning, she asked, “Where were you?” Then it all fell into place, here in the dark after twilight, in the wilds of Texas brush country. She pointed an accusing finger at Hawk. “You rat, you were watching me.”
    â€œGuilty. I had to keep an eye on you.”
    â€œAm I not allowed even the most basic of privacies?”
    He crossed over to the tree, unlocking her from it. This time he kept one end of the iron bracelet in his hand. “We will eat now.”
    â€œWill you allow me to feed myself?”
    â€œPerhaps.”
    And he did, after they had returned to camp and he had warned her against making any quick moves. It was a small enough concession; she made no attempt to flee, not that she could have if she wanted to, still unnerved by the long wait for Hawk at the tree.
    She sat on her ankles in front of the fire. It took all her strength of will not to fall on the food as if she were a famished mongrel being tossed steak bones. No food had ever tasted better than the spit-roasted beef, the canned beans, the black and strong coffee. For dessert, Hawk presented her with a handful of dried figs. Delicious.
    Stretched out on the ground, propped up on his elbow, and smoking a cigarette, he watched her. “Did you enjoy your meal?”
    â€œI’ve had better.”
    â€œA beautiful woman like you, spoiled by her rich family, yes, I imagine you have.”
    It wasn’t a compliment; it was criticism. Yet few men had called her beautiful–they had too often been put off by her caustic tongue–and her cheeks went hot. She barely realized she spoke when she uttered, “My sisters are the beauties in the family.”
    â€œAren’t the three of you identical?”
    â€œSo they say. But how do you know about Olga and Margaret?”
    â€œCompetent kidnappers do their research. I found out you sisters look exactly alike . . . except for a slight deviation in the shade of your eyes.” Past a curl of smoke, he winked. “Now tell me–what makes you think you’re not as pretty as they are?”
    Maisie had said she was pretty. “Ye’re bonny as heather on the banks of the Loch Ness,” she’d said over and over, “and there’s a grand beauty t’ ye, down deep.” Even Maisie had thrown up her arms and given a gasp of exasperation when Charity had packed her clothes for the trip to Ian.
    Oh, Maiz, I miss you.
    â€œCharity . . . ? What about your sisters?”
    â€œEveryone comments on their looks. ‘Olga is so lovely in her serenity.’ ‘That Margaret, she’s as smart as she is beautiful.’ People say those things all the time.”
    â€œWhat do they say about you?”
    â€œ ’Why can’t she keep her mouth shut?’ ”
    Tossing back his head, he laughed.
    Offended, Charity said, “You don’t have to agree with them!”
    â€œDon’t put words in my mouth, angel. I’m not agreeing with other people at all. The way I figure it, a man would never be bored around you.” He grew serious and tossed his cigarette into the fire. “And I think you’re highly clever. I’ve got the bruises to prove it. Furthermore, you are beautiful. I’ve never seen such beautiful hair. Or eyes. And you haven’t got a feature to be ashamed of.”
    Embarrassed at his praise, she ducked her chin and popped another