Margaret Brownley Read Online Free Page A

it best to avoid any sudden movement on his part that might further alarm her.
    “You’d better lie down,” he said. He gave a curt nod toward the pallet and concentrated on keeping his gaze riveted to the relative safety of her beguiling face. But she wasn’t making it easy.
    “I…I have no intention of lying down.” Her pale lips trembled as she spoke.
    “Suit yourself.” If she didn’t lie down she would probably fall down and that might make the baby come. The thought sent cold shivers down his spine. That was the last thing he needed.
    He took a step backward thinking she’d relax with more distance between them. He suddenly realized he was holding his Green River knife, its blade dripping with fresh blood from the rabbit he skinned for supper.
    No wonder the poor woman was half out of her wits with fear. “Supper,” he said by way of explanation. He set his knife down by a wash basin and he sensed rather than saw her relief. “I’ll make you a bite to eat.”
    Lifting her chin, she stood ramrod-straight as if intending to make the most of her five-foot-four-height. “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”
    His gaze dropped to her waist, or at least to the area that one would normally expect to find a waist. “I can see that,” he said lightly.
    Anger flared on her face. “For your information, my name is Libby Summerfield. Mrs. Libby Summerfield.”
    She was married? If that was true then where was her husband? “If you’re a married woman than I reckon you won’t have any trouble taking orders.”
    She narrowed her eyes. Now that he no longer carried a knife she’d grown downright militant. “I don’t take orders!”
    “I guess that explains your present predicament.”
    “It explains nothing of the sort!” she retorted. “Now if you would be kind enough to give me back my own clothes. I have a stage to catch.”
    He scratched his head “I hate to be the bearer of bad news but the stage left over an hour ago.”
    “An hour…” She swayed lightly and he reached out to steady her. She slapped away his hand. “Don’t touch me!”
    He was startled by her outburst. Her fragile appearance was deceiving. “I won’t hurt you.”
    The woman remained stubbornly in place while he debated how best to convince her to lie down. He wasn’t used to bargaining, especially with a woman. Normally, he wouldn’t be all that tempted to do so now. But given the woman’s circumstances, he was willing to allow her some leeway. Long as she didn’t move around or shake up her innards the baby should stay right where he or she was supposed to. At least he hoped so.
    “I’ll give you exactly thirty seconds to get back in that bed or…”
    “Or what?” she squeaked out, her bold blue-green eyes making up for any failure of voice.
    Finding her open defiance surprising, if not altogether disconcerting, he clenched his fists. Why was she challenging him? He might be going about it all wrong, but he only wanted what was best for her.
    “I’ll put you there myself.” When his warning drew no more than a reproachful glare, he began counting. “One…”
    It amused him to watch her act so nonchalantly. His height alone made him an imposing figure.
    “Five…”
    She never as much as flinched.
    “Twelve…” Fool of a woman. Why couldn’t she just climb back into bed? He kept counting, hoping she would accept the inevitable. “Twenty-seven…”
    He never had a chance to get to the final count—whatever that might have been— for she practically swooned before his very eyes. Intent on grabbing her before she reached the ground, he pushed a chair out of his way and lunged forward.
    She moved with a speed of a wild animal. Grabbing the Green River knife she raised it over her head, its lethal blade pointed straight at him.
    “My clothes.”
    He stopped mid step, flabbergasted. How was it possible for someone to recover so quickly? Gathering his wits, he tried another tactic. “Is this the