Hostage Heart Read Online Free

ranch.
    Had his vision deceived him? Had Ga’n stopped and actually talked to someone holding a rifle? Ga’n talk? Impossible . He must be delirious. No rancher would give the renegade safe passage. Clutching the horse’s thick black mane, Matt was too weak to fight off another wave of dizziness. With a muffled groan he leaned forward, his brow pressed against the animal’s neck in an effort not to fall off again.
    Matt clung to the horse, knowing this was the beginning of another siege of delirium from the high fever. His left thigh was so swollen that the material around it had stretched to its limits. The heavy, throbbing ache was continual, and he knew somehow in his feverish state that lead poisoning had set in. He could die. At Matt thought, he called on his almost nonexistent reserve of strength. He would not die before Katie’s and Susan’s lives were avenged. Clenching his teeth, he felt another tidal wave of pain move through him. He felt light-headed. No…can’t fall off again…can’t ….
    The gelding stumbled to a halt next to the larger of two barns located side by side. At the nicker of horses nearby, Matt slowly raised his head, reorienting himself. Everything was dark, and there was no light or movement from the main ranch house or the two bunkhouses. No guards were posted, and he wondered why. At this time of night, it would be safer not to approach the house and possibly scare the owners, getting himself killed before he could explain who he was or that he needed help. No, it would be wiser to seek shelter in the barn and wait it out until daylight. Then he could ask for help without being shot first and asked questions later. Dismounting with difficulty, Matt pushed the horizontal bar off the two main doors.
    The haymow was barely illuminated by the partly open door. Matt made his way toward it. If he could just lie down and sleep and know that he was safe from Ga’n. If only.
    The sudden cry of a stallion jerked Matt momentarily out of his stupor. He leaned heavily against a roughly hewn oak timber. Damn . The ranch owners would be awakened by that squealing stud who was apparently stalled in the other barn and was busy kicking down the walls. Matt could hear the thunk of wood being struck by the angry animal. Dammit . Too weak to move, he rested against the beam.
    The stallion’s screams made Lark sit bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding hard in her breast. Her black hair, brushed until it shone like ebony, fell around her shoulders and breasts.
    Had Ga’n returned? It would be typical of the renegade to lie and sneak back! He was probably in need of better mounts, having driven his own horses to exhaustion. Again she heard the Kentucky’s shrill scream, muted through the log-and-mortar wall of the bedroom.
    Kicking the sheet and quilt aside, Lark leaped out of bed. She groped for the Winchester rifle in the gun rack near the dresser. Hands shaking, she quickly lit a lantern to show her the way to the barn. Her black hair flew behind her as she quietly opened the front door and sped lightly across the dry earth toward the stud barn, the loaded rifle at her side.
    Above her, the stars hung close, cold and silent. The nearly freezing air seeped through her light cotton gown, making her shiver.
    Before she came to a halt, Lark saw the barn doors were partially opened. Tension tightened her throat, and her eyes grew wide. Was Ga’n back to “borrow” two new horses and leave his own animals here instead? Fighting down her anger, Lark wished mightily that she had listened to Paco and kept at least one wrangler at the ranch. It was a lesson hard learned. She would never again leave the women, children and herself open to attack without a man around to lend his protection.
    The high, trembling whinny of a broodmare greeted Lark as she stood tensely in the doorway. The inside of the barn was dim, and Lark couldn’t see or hear anything. Pindah made noise; Apaches did not. Ga’n must be