Read Online Renegade Bride by Barbara Ankrum - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Ankrum
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thought I made myself perfectly clear last night—"
"And I told you we weren't finished discussing it."
"And you decided to follow me all this way just to have the last word?"
She moistened her suddenly-dry lips with the tip of her tongue. His flashing eyes pinned her to the spot. They were beautiful eyes, she thought irrelevantly. Eyes that held the potential for great kindness and great violence. Heaven help her, the fall must have knocked her senseless to be noticing such things at a time like this! She jerked her gaze away. "I told you I wouldn't stay behind."
When he spoke again, it was with slow, deliberate fury. "Have you any idea the danger you put yourself in, trailing behind me that way?"
"I was in no danger, except, apparently, from you."
"No danger?" Shaking his head, he turned to sweep a disbelieving stare at the endless prairie foothills behind them. "Is that what you think? Have you heard of the Blackfeet or the Crow, Miss Parsons?"
"I—"
"—or the Gros Ventres, a particularly gruesome bunch when they're in their form. Do you have any idea what they would do to a beautiful young femme if they got their hands on you?"
Mariah felt heat rush to her cheeks and her gaze automatically fell to the beaded Indian choker at his throat. For the first time, real fear entered her consciousness. "I—I saw no one."
"Of course not," he snapped, ripping the hat off his head and slapping it against his thigh. "And you wouldn't have until they had their hands on you." He plunged his fingers through his windblown hair. "Not to mention the white men roaming around these hills like so many vultures."
Something cold traced a finger up her spine. "I—I had you in sight the whole time," she said a little weakly in her own defense.
"You little idiot. How could you have had me in sight when I couldn't see you?" Creed nearly shouted. The hell of it was, he realized, she truly didn't know the danger she'd been in. She was greener than sweetgrass and probably didn't have the sense God gave a pullet.
His imagination retraced the hundreds of dips and hills they'd crossed, knowing any one of them could have been a fatal trap. What in God's name would he have told Seth?
"Dammit," he cursed in desperation, turning away from her.
Mariah glanced down at her dirty gloved hands while the wind tore at the single braid that fell over her shoulder. He was swearing in English now and she presumed that was bad. He was, after all, correct. She had lost sight of him more than once and had been out of shouting distance most of the time.
Hattie had sternly warned her to catch up with Devereaux quickly, but she'd hung back, certain he'd just take her back if they were still close to the station. This was no time for self-recriminations. She'd come here with a purpose and she didn't plan to let what hadn't even happened get in her way.
"Mister Devereaux, regardless of what might or might not have happened to me, I'm here now and I'm coming with you."
A trace of a smile, an angry one, curled his lip. "No. You're not."
"You can't take me back. We've come too far."
"No distance, mademoiselle, would be too far," he replied through gritted teeth. His distaste for her was evident in his expression as he ordered, "Get your horse."
"No! I won't go back," she insisted, planting her feet. "I can't."
"Le Diable!" His already tanned face darkened dangerously and he took a threatening step closer. "Seth told me once that you were... how shall I say.. willful? But I think dangerous would be a better word. He should have taken you across his knee years ago."
Mariah's mouth dropped open in an indignant gasp and she took an involuntary step backward. "Don't you dare—"
Taking another step closer, he taunted, "What? Scared of me now, Miss Parsons? You weren't too afraid to follow me alone out into this wilderness. Not too frightened to face men who would just as soon rape and quarter you as look at you."
Mariah went hot, then cold. She'd expected
"And I told you we weren't finished discussing it."
"And you decided to follow me all this way just to have the last word?"
She moistened her suddenly-dry lips with the tip of her tongue. His flashing eyes pinned her to the spot. They were beautiful eyes, she thought irrelevantly. Eyes that held the potential for great kindness and great violence. Heaven help her, the fall must have knocked her senseless to be noticing such things at a time like this! She jerked her gaze away. "I told you I wouldn't stay behind."
When he spoke again, it was with slow, deliberate fury. "Have you any idea the danger you put yourself in, trailing behind me that way?"
"I was in no danger, except, apparently, from you."
"No danger?" Shaking his head, he turned to sweep a disbelieving stare at the endless prairie foothills behind them. "Is that what you think? Have you heard of the Blackfeet or the Crow, Miss Parsons?"
"I—"
"—or the Gros Ventres, a particularly gruesome bunch when they're in their form. Do you have any idea what they would do to a beautiful young femme if they got their hands on you?"
Mariah felt heat rush to her cheeks and her gaze automatically fell to the beaded Indian choker at his throat. For the first time, real fear entered her consciousness. "I—I saw no one."
"Of course not," he snapped, ripping the hat off his head and slapping it against his thigh. "And you wouldn't have until they had their hands on you." He plunged his fingers through his windblown hair. "Not to mention the white men roaming around these hills like so many vultures."
Something cold traced a finger up her spine. "I—I had you in sight the whole time," she said a little weakly in her own defense.
"You little idiot. How could you have had me in sight when I couldn't see you?" Creed nearly shouted. The hell of it was, he realized, she truly didn't know the danger she'd been in. She was greener than sweetgrass and probably didn't have the sense God gave a pullet.
His imagination retraced the hundreds of dips and hills they'd crossed, knowing any one of them could have been a fatal trap. What in God's name would he have told Seth?
"Dammit," he cursed in desperation, turning away from her.
Mariah glanced down at her dirty gloved hands while the wind tore at the single braid that fell over her shoulder. He was swearing in English now and she presumed that was bad. He was, after all, correct. She had lost sight of him more than once and had been out of shouting distance most of the time.
Hattie had sternly warned her to catch up with Devereaux quickly, but she'd hung back, certain he'd just take her back if they were still close to the station. This was no time for self-recriminations. She'd come here with a purpose and she didn't plan to let what hadn't even happened get in her way.
"Mister Devereaux, regardless of what might or might not have happened to me, I'm here now and I'm coming with you."
A trace of a smile, an angry one, curled his lip. "No. You're not."
"You can't take me back. We've come too far."
"No distance, mademoiselle, would be too far," he replied through gritted teeth. His distaste for her was evident in his expression as he ordered, "Get your horse."
"No! I won't go back," she insisted, planting her feet. "I can't."
"Le Diable!" His already tanned face darkened dangerously and he took a threatening step closer. "Seth told me once that you were... how shall I say.. willful? But I think dangerous would be a better word. He should have taken you across his knee years ago."
Mariah's mouth dropped open in an indignant gasp and she took an involuntary step backward. "Don't you dare—"
Taking another step closer, he taunted, "What? Scared of me now, Miss Parsons? You weren't too afraid to follow me alone out into this wilderness. Not too frightened to face men who would just as soon rape and quarter you as look at you."
Mariah went hot, then cold. She'd expected
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