Carolyn Davidson Read Online Free

beasts without warning. One moment it was windy and dark, bulging clouds scudding across a lowering sky. The next, they had opened and poured out their burden.
    Within a minute, Quinn had hightailed his charges inside the shed and the door had slid shut. And just that quickly, the rainstorm changed, turning to a steady but softly falling shower.
    Quinn opened the shed door and looked across the yard at her. She’d backed up against the house, only the shallow porch roof sheltering her, and he frowned, waving his hand.
    “Go on in the cabin,” he called. “I’ll be right in.”
    “Bossy!” She sniffed her irritation at the man. They were all alike, wanting to tell the women around them what to do. Almost as bad as Damian Wentworth had been. Certainly as bad as his father.
    Just stay here, with us. It’s what Damian would have wanted. We’ll take care of you, he’d said, his arrogance matching that of his late son.
    And take care of her they would have. But all they wanted was the baby, of that she was certain. She’d have been out in the cold once the baby was born, had she stayed.
    And if she knew anything about it, they were probably scouring the country for her, even now.
    Men! It would be forever before she was ready to allow another one to run her life. The memory of harsh hands and cruel words was too fresh to be forgotten, and she had determined to put the past behind her and form a new life for herself and her child.
    The sight of Quinn Yarborough’s long legs jumping over the worst of the low spots in the yard brought her to herself, and Erin opened the door for him. He paused at her side on the porch, glaring at her damp cheeks, where an occasional raindrop had blown beneath her shelter.
    “I told you to go inside.” He stripped off the soaking wet shirt he wore and shed his boots, picking them up to carry them within. Then he waited for her to step through the doorway ahead of him.
    “So you did. I don’t take orders well.”
    His look was shot with wry humor. “I noticed.” He moved to the stove, pulling a length of twine from his pocket. A line from one wall to the other was quickly strung and he laid his shirt over it. His boots stood in front of the oven door, and he looked at Erin with the first trace of uncertainty she’d seen on his face.
    “I want to strip off my pants to dry. Do you mind?”
    She shook her head and walked to the window, giving him the privacy he’d asked for. She’d lit the kerosenelamp earlier, and now its glow permeated corners of the small room.
    It wasn’t until she’d gazed for several moments out into the rain that she realized the window was acting much like a mirror, and his every move was apparent to her view.
    Quinn was stripping her quilt from the bed to wrap around himself, and she caught a glimpse of his tall frame and an abundance of pale flesh as he did so.
    Her cheeks flaming, she closed her eyes, bending her head forward to rest against the glass pane. “Oh, dear!” The whisper was soft but fervent, barely discernible.
    “Mrs. Peterson? Erin? Are you all right?” His murmur was low, the warmth of his big body directly behind her, and she drew in a deep breath.
    How had she gotten into this mess?

Chapter Two
    S he watched his approach in the windowpane, as he moved behind her in the room. Then warm hands gripped her shoulders and Erin stifled the urge to relax beneath their weight. For too long she had been building her courage to remain isolated from the world. She could not allow the presence of this man to make her soften, dependent once more on others.
    “Erin?” He repeated her name and his fingers shifted, turning her to face him.
    She shrugged, a gesture meant to rid herself of his touch, but to no avail. Her feet moved at his bidding and she looked up into eyes that searched hers.
    “I’m fine, just worrying about the animals, I suppose.”
    He laughed, a muted chuckle, and shook his head. “They’re about as well off as we are. The