Linda Castle Read Online Free

qualified anatomist. I am more than competent enough to handle this kind of exploratory expedition.”
    “Competent? Exploratory expedition?” Temple swept the soft-brimmed hat off his head and slapped it against his knee. The smile on his face grew wider. “Connie—” deep throaty chuckles interrupted his sentence “—y ou…have the most delightful sense of humor. I never realized it when you were a little girl. I remembered you as being rather serious, but you do have a devilish funny side.”
    Constance opened her mouth again but her wordswere frozen in her throat by Temple’s laughter. It started low in his belly, as only true amusement can. Then it came rushing forward, rolling like thunder as it gathered strength and rumbled out of him.
    Temple grabbed hold of his ribs and chuckled with amusement. Constance realized, with a surge of uncharacteristic anger, he was laughing at her. Only her upbringing made it possible for her to stand there, stiff as a poker and watch, and while she did, any inclination to compromise and work with Temple Parish withered away. In fact, while Constance twined her gloved hands together in disappointment she found her thoughts racing ahead. And while more and more heat rose in her cheeks, her mind was focused on only one thing.
    She was determined to silence Temple Parish’s arrogant laughter, and the best way she could think of to do so was to claim Filbert Montague’s prize.
    The setting sun cast a reddish glow to the floor of the small room Mr. Hughes had procured for Constance above the saloon. She paced across the vermilion radiance while he apologized for his earlier behavior. He managed to do so without ever once breaking into guffaws, though once or twice she saw the skin around his eyes crinkle.
    “I wish to start for the canyon immediately. Mr. Hughes.”
    “I’m sorry, miss,” he said sheepishly. “But I—uh, I have wasted the better part of the afternoon. The trip is a long one and best started at sunrise.”
    “I see,” Constance said. It was a reasonable enough request to wait until tomorrow morning to begin thejourney but she was feeling neither calm nor reasonable.
    “I’ll come and get you loaded up at sunrise, miss.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Hughes. That will be fine.” Constance opened the door and let him out into the narrow empty hallway. The sound of Temple’s voice down below in the bar made the hair on the nape of her neck prickle. She so seldom lost her temper, it was not an experience she was accustomed to.
    Constance shut the door behind Mr. Hughes, but even with the door closed, she could still hear the baritone rumble of several men in conversation. A sharp bark of amusement shattered the silence of her room, and heat rose in her face.
    As the sun dropped from sight and darkness claimed her room a new sound was added. Plinking piano music vibrated through the floor against the soles of her shoes.
    A sudden explosion of laughter echoed up the stairs. A hot tide of indignation climbed into her cheeks again.
    “He is still laughing at me.” She walked to the small neatly made bed and sat down. Constance tried to ignore the hilarity but the sound continued to hammer at the closed door. Temple’s reaction to her suggestion really was the most baffling and insulting thing she had ever experienced.
    “Most confounding.” And infuriating, she finally admitted to herself. For the first time in her memory, Constance was seething with anger.
    Another barrage of baritone chuckles wafted up the stairs. Constance found the image of her father’s elderly colleagues swimming in her mind.
    They frequently looked at her with bemused expressions—orpatted her hand and offered her some patronizing explanation about why she couldn’t participate in their scholarly activities. In fact she almost expected it from them. But to have Temple Parish, of all people on earth, sitting downstairs, in a barroom in Montana, laughing at her.
    It was simply