Hostage Heart Read Online Free Page A

playing a trick on her, to humiliate her because she’d spoken so sharply to him earlier. Yet in the back of her mind, Lark knew that if Ga’n had wanted to wreak havoc, he would have already raided the ranch. She knew she was safe from his murdering ways. Instead, he was playing a game with her. He wanted to teach her a lesson for the way she, a woman, had spoken to him, an Apache warrior. She didn’t appreciate either his timing or his joke.
    In Apache, she called into the barn. “Come out of there, Ga’n. I know you’re in there. The time for games is over! Come out. Now!”
    Several of the twelve mares that were near foaling whickered urgently in response, recognizing her voice. Lark sensed their trepidation. Whoever was in there was making them nervous. Her Irish temper overcame her normally patient Apache blood. “Ga’n! How dare you scare my mares. They’re almost ready to foal! Come out of there right now, or I swear I’ll shoot you! If you cause one mare to abort, I’ll cut off your right ear. I swear it!”
    No answer came, except for the movement of the mares in their stalls. Then an unfamiliar whinny greeted her ears. Lark knew each of her mare’s neighs; each was as distinctive as a human voice. Raising the lantern, Lark began to enter the barn. Ga’n’s childish game had gone far enough! She wished mightily for her trusted bowie knife, which she always wore. Her mother and old Ny-Oden had taught her how to use it for hunting as well as for defense. Right now, she would have preferred a knife instead of an unwieldy rifle.
    “I’m coming in, Ga’n! You had best show yourself. I have a loaded rifle, and I’ll shoot if you don’t give up your game!” Taking a deep breath, Lark rounded the barn door and walked determinedly into the haymow.
    Matt froze when he heard the guttural Apache come from outside the door. Ga’n had found him! He broke into a heavy sweat, shaking badly in the grip of the fever. Leaning behind the solid oak beam, he turned sideways so he couldn’t be spotted by the Apache. Drawing his Colt, he found he could barely hold the heavy pistol. Hate mixed with anger. All right, if Ga’n wanted him, he’d have to come after him. He had the advantage of being hidden deep in the barn. Apaches might be the world’s best hunters and trackers, but they didn’t have eyes in the backs of their heads. He squinted, forcing what little attention was left in his fevered mind on the opened doors. The Apache commands were becoming higher and more strident. Attack was imminent. Matt raised the pistol and positioned it against his other arm to steady it. He’d only have one chance. Savage satisfaction soared through him. One way or another, Katie and Susan would be avenged.
    In the next instant, he saw a tall woman in a white nightgown move cautiously around the opened door. He froze. A myriad of impressions assailed him. Her midnight hair swirled like a glorious cape around her shoulders and high breasts. Her slender body was silhouetted against the thin cotton of the simple gown. The glitter in her narrowed eyes as she slipped silently between the doors reminded him of a cornered cougar. He shook his head. What was going on? He could swear he had heard Apache. Was he delirious again? Was she a figment of his imagination?
    As the woman drew closer, Matt could see the fear and determination on her face. He wasn’t dreaming. She was real—a beautiful, wild animal. She placed the lantern on the peg of another beam, still holding the rifle with both hands. Confused and disoriented by the chain of events, Matt felt his left leg giving out. He lowered the pistol and slid it into the holster. The woman meant business with that Winchester. The trigger was cocked, and he knew that if he spoke, she’d shoot first and ask questions later. Luck turned in his favor. She had halted no more than five feet away, backing slowly toward him, looking toward the stalls.
    Suppressing a momentary twinge of