Read Online Wyoming Bride by Joan Johnston - Free Book Online Page A

room, so there was no escape through the window.
    She looked at the pillow beside her in the large bed, wondering if perhaps he’d spent the night there, but she saw no impression where his head might have been. Perhaps he had a wife who’d taken care of her. Maybe his wife was cooking breakfast in the kitchen right now.
    Hannah knew it was wishful thinking, but she didn’t want to consider the possibility that she was alone in the house with this frightening stranger. She looked up at him and said, “I want to thank your wife for taking such good care of me.”
    “I’m not married.”
    “Oh. Then your sister or mother or—”
    “I undressed you,” he said baldly.
    Hannah felt herself begin to tremble and lifted her chin to show him she wasn’t afraid. She searched his features and realized they were familiar. She had a faint memory of his face hovering above her, of being held close in a warm embrace. Then she remembered.
    “You found me.”
    He nodded.
    “Where are we?”
    “The Double C Ranch.”
    That didn’t tell her much more than she’d known before. “Are we near Cheyenne?”
    “Cheyenne is sixty-five miles south of here.”
    “South?”
    He nodded.
    Hannah wondered how many miles she’d walked. How close had she been to Cheyenne when—She cut off the dark thought that threatened to make itself known. Instead she asked, “Do you live here alone?”
    “My brother and I share the house and the ranch, but he’s not here right now. Which is why I can’t take you to Cheyenne. I need to be here to manage the ranch while he’s gone.”
    “So I’m stuck here.”
    She saw the smallest hint of a smile before he replied, “I suppose you could say that, ma’am.”
    Hannah realized how ungrateful she’d sounded. “I’m sorry. It’s just … We were on the trail for months and months trying to reach Cheyenne.”
    “You were traveling with your husband.” He made it a statement.
    “Yes. My husband and—” Hannah cut herself off and put a hand to her forehead. It hurt.
    “How did you get separated?”
    “Mr. McMurtry died of cholera.”
    “You told me that. How did you get separated from whoever you were traveling with?”
    Hannah frowned. “I don’t remember.” Her brow furrowed as she concentrated, searching for memories that would tell her how she had come to be here. A swirling black hole appeared. It felt like, if she got too close, she’d be sucked down into it, never to be seen again. She wrenched herself away from the menacing blackness and said, “I can’t remember.”
    “It’ll come back when you’re ready,” he said.
    “Ready for what?” she said anxiously. “What do you know?” Hannah’s chest ached, and her throat had swollen closed, cutting off speech. Something terrible must have happened. If only she could remember!
    “I know you need to get some food in that empty stomach of yours.”
    “And I need to get dressed.” She shoved the covers aside, slid her stocking feet onto the planked wooden floor, and stood upright. Hannah felt her knees buckle, but before she could fall, strong arms caught her and lifted her. She instinctively grasped the stranger around the neck, surprised at the softness of the hair at his nape.
    “You’re weak as a day-old kitten,” he said.
    To her surprise, instead of putting her back in bed, he lifted her completely into his arms and headed for the door to the room.
    “Where are you taking me?”
    “Breakfast’s in the kitchen.”
    “Stop! I need to get dressed first.”
    He paused at the door but then continued walking. “In what? It’s cold outside. That dress you had on is a summer concoction.”
    “You must have something.”
    He snorted. “I’ve got Levi’s and wool shirts.”
    “Jeans with this shirt will be fine.”
    He carried her all the way downstairs, through a hallway that led to the back of the house, and set her in one of the four chairs around a small, square table. Then he eyed her up and down and said,