Read Online The Texan's Bride by Geralyn Dawson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Geralyn Dawson
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destruction. Chaos reigned as hooded men atop prancing horses held torches aloft, shouting and whooping, with violence and ruin riding their blood like a fever. Men afoot cackled at the spectacle of squawking chickens, their feathers alight, darting about the barnyard in a frenzied dance of death.
Branch stood motionless just inside the tree line, and the apocalyptic sight before his eyes flashed him into the past. Instead of the inn’s roof crashing to the ground, he saw the Virginia plantation’s huge Doric columns tumble into flaming rosebushes. He heard pops and crackles and screams—oh, God, the screams! The clouds of gray smoke engulfing him stank not of pine but of burning flesh— animal flesh, human flesh. Fear clutched his belly, slithered around his feet, and he could not move.
Mommy, I’m scared . The man looked to his fist and saw a seven-year-old boy’s hand holding a matchstick.
Then the groan, a long, agonized wail of pain, snapped him back to the present. The Gallaghers! John lay facedown beside the horse trough. Alive or dead, Branch couldn’t tell. Daniel, strapped lengthwise on a tanning log, his shirt ribboned and bloodied, was sobbing. Damn the bastards , Branch thought. Flexing his fingers, he ached to pull his Colt and drop the bear of a man who wielded the whip.
Rage constricted his throat as he quickly searched his mind for a way to help the Gallaghers. Outgunned, any of his shots would likely be answered with bullets plugged into his friends. Think, man ! Considering and discarding several options, he arrived at a plan. Risky, not much more than a gamble, but a plan nonetheless. He took one bold step from cover when the sound pierced his heart like a Comanche arrowhead.
Katie’s shriek stopped every man in his tracks as she burst through the trees and launched herself at the man holding the whip. They tumbled to the ground. When sunlight caught the knife blade she raised above the man’s chest, Branch reacted. “Holy hell,” he exclaimed, and fired off two shots.
The first bit the dirt at her knees. The second sailed wide of her hand. Together they grabbed her attention, buying him time to reach her. Where in the hell did she get a knife, he wondered as he pointed his Colt square at her head. Deliberately, he said, “Drop the knife and get up, Mrs. Starr.”
Katie stared at him, her eyes frozen blue ice. Her gaze never left him, even when she reeled from the force of the backhanded blow delivered by the man dressed entirely in black, the one who’d been shouting orders earlier.
Branch’s thoughts turned savage. Fury pounded through his veins. He reached deep for control and swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. Pasting a friendly smile on his face, he extended a hand to the tall man. “The name’s Branch Kincaid, sir.”
The Regulators closed in on Katie, yanking her to her feet. Branch inwardly recoiled at the hate she hurled his way, and when one yellow-toothed blackguard reached out and cupped her breast, he went rigid. His jaw muscle twitched as he inhaled a deep breath.
Turning his back to her at that moment was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
The leader’s dark eyes gleamed through slits cut in the black cotton hood. He brushed dust from his coat and asked in a muffled voice, “Have we met before?”
Branch looked up a bit to meet his eyes.
The scoundrel may have been taller, but Branch outweighed him by a good twenty-five pounds. And someday he’ll feel every one of them , he promised himself. “No, we’ve not met, but you men are pretty famous in these parts,” he said aloud. “I’ve been looking forward to makin’ your acquaintance.”
At that, Katie found her tongue. “Damn your hide, Kincaid,” she screamed. He looked casually over his shoulder. Spewing venomous curses, Katie bucked and squirmed. She tossed her head in violent frenzy and twisted to rake her nails down her captor’s face. “Da! Daniel!” she shrieked, straining to free
Branch stood motionless just inside the tree line, and the apocalyptic sight before his eyes flashed him into the past. Instead of the inn’s roof crashing to the ground, he saw the Virginia plantation’s huge Doric columns tumble into flaming rosebushes. He heard pops and crackles and screams—oh, God, the screams! The clouds of gray smoke engulfing him stank not of pine but of burning flesh— animal flesh, human flesh. Fear clutched his belly, slithered around his feet, and he could not move.
Mommy, I’m scared . The man looked to his fist and saw a seven-year-old boy’s hand holding a matchstick.
Then the groan, a long, agonized wail of pain, snapped him back to the present. The Gallaghers! John lay facedown beside the horse trough. Alive or dead, Branch couldn’t tell. Daniel, strapped lengthwise on a tanning log, his shirt ribboned and bloodied, was sobbing. Damn the bastards , Branch thought. Flexing his fingers, he ached to pull his Colt and drop the bear of a man who wielded the whip.
Rage constricted his throat as he quickly searched his mind for a way to help the Gallaghers. Outgunned, any of his shots would likely be answered with bullets plugged into his friends. Think, man ! Considering and discarding several options, he arrived at a plan. Risky, not much more than a gamble, but a plan nonetheless. He took one bold step from cover when the sound pierced his heart like a Comanche arrowhead.
Katie’s shriek stopped every man in his tracks as she burst through the trees and launched herself at the man holding the whip. They tumbled to the ground. When sunlight caught the knife blade she raised above the man’s chest, Branch reacted. “Holy hell,” he exclaimed, and fired off two shots.
The first bit the dirt at her knees. The second sailed wide of her hand. Together they grabbed her attention, buying him time to reach her. Where in the hell did she get a knife, he wondered as he pointed his Colt square at her head. Deliberately, he said, “Drop the knife and get up, Mrs. Starr.”
Katie stared at him, her eyes frozen blue ice. Her gaze never left him, even when she reeled from the force of the backhanded blow delivered by the man dressed entirely in black, the one who’d been shouting orders earlier.
Branch’s thoughts turned savage. Fury pounded through his veins. He reached deep for control and swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. Pasting a friendly smile on his face, he extended a hand to the tall man. “The name’s Branch Kincaid, sir.”
The Regulators closed in on Katie, yanking her to her feet. Branch inwardly recoiled at the hate she hurled his way, and when one yellow-toothed blackguard reached out and cupped her breast, he went rigid. His jaw muscle twitched as he inhaled a deep breath.
Turning his back to her at that moment was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
The leader’s dark eyes gleamed through slits cut in the black cotton hood. He brushed dust from his coat and asked in a muffled voice, “Have we met before?”
Branch looked up a bit to meet his eyes.
The scoundrel may have been taller, but Branch outweighed him by a good twenty-five pounds. And someday he’ll feel every one of them , he promised himself. “No, we’ve not met, but you men are pretty famous in these parts,” he said aloud. “I’ve been looking forward to makin’ your acquaintance.”
At that, Katie found her tongue. “Damn your hide, Kincaid,” she screamed. He looked casually over his shoulder. Spewing venomous curses, Katie bucked and squirmed. She tossed her head in violent frenzy and twisted to rake her nails down her captor’s face. “Da! Daniel!” she shrieked, straining to free
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