Read Online Ransom by Julie Garwood - Free Book Online Page B

gonna rain and you’ll get all wet. It isn’t hard. Just don’t look down.”
    As if to underscore his prediction, a clap of thunder rumbled in the distance.
    Ever so slowly she scooted toward him. Her heart was pounding like a drum, and she was so scared she thought she might throw up. The child, it seemed, had more courage than she did.
    â€œHow come you don’t like looking down?” he asked as he crawled forward to peer into the chasm.
    He was dangerously close to the edge, and she frantically grabbed hold of his ankles and pulled him back. “Don’t do that.”
    â€œBut I want to spit down and see where it lands.”
    â€œSit beside me and be quiet for a moment. I have to think what to do.”
    â€œBut how come you don’t like looking down?”
    â€œI just don’t.”
    â€œMaybe it makes you sick. Your face got real green. Were you gonna puke?”
    â€œNo,” she answered wearily.
    â€œDoes it scare you to look down?”
    He was relentless. “Why do you ask so many questions?”
    He lifted his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “I don’t know; I just do.”
    â€œAnd I don’t know why it scares me to look down; it just does. I don’t even like looking out of my bedroom window because it’s up so high. It makes me dizzy.”
    â€œAre all English ladies like you?”
    â€œNo, I don’t suppose they are.”
    â€œMost are puny,” he announced authoritatively. “My Uncle Ennis told me so.”
    â€œYour uncle’s wrong. Most ladies are not puny. They can do anything a man can do.”
    The child must have thought her remark was hilarious because he laughed so forcefully his shoulders shook. She found herself wondering how in heaven’s name a boy so young could be so arrogant.
    He turned her attention with yet another question. “What’s your name, lady?”
    â€œGillian.”
    He waited for her to ask him his name, and when she didn’t, he nudged her. “Don’t you want to know my name?”
    â€œI already know your name. I heard the soldiers talking about you. You’re Michael and you belong to a clan led by a man named Laird Ramsey. You’re his brother.”
    The boy was vehemently shaking his head. “No, Michael isn’t my real name,” he said. He cuddled up next to her and took hold of her hand. “We were playing a trick when the men came and grabbed me. They put me in a wheat sack.”
    â€œThat must have been very frightening for you,” she said. “What kind of a trick were you playing?” Before he could answer her, she asked, “Why didn’t you wait for me in the stables? It could have been so easy to get away if you had only done what I told you to do. And why did you stab my arm? You knew I was your friend. I unlocked the door for you, didn’t I? If only you had trusted me . . .”
    â€œI’m not supposed to trust the English. Everyone knows that.”
    â€œDid your Uncle Ennis tell you that?”
    â€œNo, my Uncle Brodick did,” he explained. “But I already knew.”
    â€œDo you trust me?”
    â€œMaybe I do,” he answered. “I didn’t mean to cut you. Does it hurt fierce?”
    It hurt like hell, but she wasn’t going to admit it because of the anxiety she saw in his eyes. The little boy had enough worries on his mind, and she wasn’t going to add to them.
    â€œIt’ll be fine,” she insisted. “I suppose I should do something about the bleeding though.”
    While he watched, she tore a strip from her underskirt and wrapped it around and around her arm. The boy tied the knot for her at her wrist. Then she tugged her torn, bloody sleeve back down over the bandage.
    â€œThere, I’m as fit as new.”
    â€œYou know what?”
    She let out a sigh. “No, what?”
    â€œI hurt my fingers.” He sounded as if he were