Comanche Heart Read Online Free

and wheeled his gelding toward town. Swift knew the comanchero leader resented it when one of his men didn’t stay with the group, but Swift didn’t count himself as one of Chink’s men, never had, and would be damned if he’d start now. The only reason he had fallen in with Chink a year and a half ago was to stay on the move. Trouble had a way of dogging a man’s heels, and he had to step smart if he wanted to avoid it.
    “You sure you don’t wanna come?” Chink called.
    Swift ground-tied his stallion, then stretched out on his back in the shade, using his saddle as a pillow. Without answering, he closed his eyes. He knew Chink ran too short on guts to swap lead with him over something so trivial.
    “Come on,” Charlie said. “Leave the greasy son of a bitch to sleep.”
    When the sound of the horses’ hooves grew distant, Swift pulled his nickel-plated .45 Colt revolvers from their holsters, habit compelling him to check the cylinders for cartridges. When he settled back against his saddle, he drifted off to sleep with the confidence of a man who had two loaded guns, sharp hearing, and fast reflexes.
    Only a few minutes passed before Swift put both his hearing and reflexes to the test. Horses approached, coming fast. He shot to his feet and pulled his gun before he completely registered the sound. He relaxed a little when he recognized Chink Gabriel on the lead horse. The men were pushing their mounts, and that usually meant trouble nipped at their rumps. Swift holstered his Colt and quickly re-saddled his black so he’d be ready to ride.
    “Lookee what we found,” Chink yelled as he barreled his horse up beside Swift’s. “A girlee, and hot damn if she ain’t the purtiest little thing you ever saw.”
    Swift squinted into the sun and saw that Charlie carried a girl draped over his saddle. Her blond hair had come loose and hung like a shimmering curtain down the horse’s belly.
    Swift’s stomach lurched. Since learning of Amy’s death three years ago, he seldom allowed himself to think of her, but every once in a while, like now, the memories came rushing back, bittersweet, filling him with a sense of loss. This girl’s hair was yellow blond, while Amy’s had been the rich gold of honey, but the similarity still struck him like a well-placed blow. Years ago Amy too had fallen victim to a band of comanchero.
    Chink swung off his horse, his whiskery face split in a broad grin. Clamping a hand over his crotch, he gave himself a fondle. “She’ll bring a mighty fine price across the border, but a little breakin’ in won’t hurt her value none.”
    Charlie rode up and dumped the girl off his gray. She screamed when she hit shoulder first on the grass, then staggered to her feet. She wore clothing like none Swift had ever seen, a pantlike skirt and a tailored blouse that skimmed her breasts like a second skin. Swift guessed that the outfit had been designed for horseback riding, but whatever its original purpose, the figure-revealing lines now served to whet male appetites—twenty of them.
    The girl ran. Three men wheeled their horses to chase her, making sport of her attempts to escape. Swift set his jaw. He didn’t cotton to rape, but he couldn’t do one hell of a lot to stop it when twenty guns voted yea to his nay. The damned fool girl shouldn’t have been out riding alone in the first place.
    Chink left his horse’s reins dangling and ran to catch the blonde, whooping with laughter when she bucked and tried to kick as he carried her back to the spot of shade. The other men leaped off their horses and followed along like ducklings in a queue. Swift watched in passive silence as Chink tossed the girl down and grabbed hold of her blouse. The buttons flew. Cloth ripped. She gave a horrified screech and renewed her struggles to get free.
    “Hot damn, Bull, ya won’t hafta suck them tits clean,” someone yelled.
    “Somebody help me git her britches off,” Chink ordered.
    Swift turned and walked