Lorraine Heath Read Online Free Page A

seventy-five. Houston knew desperation for a son had driven Dallas to write his first letter to Amelia.
    He could only wonder what had compelled her to reply, to accept his brother’s offer of marriage. He settled back in the chair. It wasn’t his place to wonder about her. He didn’t have to like her. He didn’t have to talk to her. He didn’t have to be nice to her. He just had to get her to the ranch … and by God, that was all he planned to do.
    Through a waking haze in which dreams still lingered in the corners of her mind, Amelia snuggled beneath the blankets, relishing the comfort of the soft bed. She had no recollection of drawing the blankets over herself, but she welcomed their protection against the chill permeating the room.
    Complacent and rested, like a kitten that had spent the better part of the day lazing in the sun, she stretched languorously, inhaled deeply, and froze.
    The aromas of bacon, coffee, and freshly baked bread teased her nostrils. Slowly she opened her eyes, expecting the harsh glare of the afternoon sun to streak across her vision. Instead, the soft glow of early-morning light cast its halo over the furnishings, directing most of its attention on a small cloth-covered table set in the middle of the room. The sunlight shimmered over an assortment of covered dishes.
    Amelia’s mouth watered at the same time that alarm rushed through her. She hadn’t heard anyone come into the room.
    Unexpectedly, she detected another scent, much fainter than the food causing her stomach to rumble, fainter, and yet in an odd way more powerful. Leather and horses.
    She spotted saddlebags leaning against a chair near the bed. Cautiously, moving only her eyes, she allowed her gaze to sweep over the room.
    Her heart stilled when she noticed the long shadow stretching across her bed. The shadow of a man. She bolted upright and jerked her gaze over her shoulder.
    His left shoulder pressed against the wall, Houston Leigh stood beside the window watching her. The sunlight took a moment to outline a portion of his tall, lean frame before completing its journey into the room.
    Amelia threw off the blankets and scrambled out of bed, her knees almost hitting the floor before she jumped upright. She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, the rapid thudding of her heart vibrating beneath her fingers. “Mr. Leigh, it’s morning.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” he acknowledged with a slow drawl that did nothing to calm her erratic heart.
    “You must think me terribly rude. I only meant to sleep for a moment—”
    “Didn’t think you were rude at all. Just figured you were tired. Figure now you’re probably hungry.” He inclined his head slightly in the direction of the table.
    “You did this?” she asked as she cautiously neared the table.
    He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Needed to make up for yesterday. Dallas would have my hide if he knew how I treated you yesterday.”
    “Does he anger easily?”
    “He’s not a man you want to rile.” He settled his hat into place. “Enjoy your meal.”
    He had picked up the saddlebags, slung them over his shoulder, and walked halfway across the room, his hat pulled low on the left side before Amelia realized he was leaving. “Aren’t you going to join me?”
    “I’ve already eaten.”
    “Then just keep me company.” He hesitated, and she knew she should let him leave, but she was incredibly tired of being alone. “Please.”
    His answer came in the form of a movement toward the table as he removed his hat and draped the saddlebags over the back of a nearby chair.
    Amelia rushed to take her seat. He took the chair opposite her, turned it slightly so she had a clear view of his profile, and stared at the hat he held on his lap.
    Houston searched the farthest recesses of his mind, but he couldn’t locate anything worth commenting on. He thought about telling her that her hair was falling down on the left side, but he was afraid she’d hop up and straighten