Matthew: The Circle Eight Read Online Free

sorry about that, mister. I’m in a bit of a hurry.” Her voice was like whiskey, husky and rich. The sound of it intrigued him.
    He must have made a noise because she straightened up and his gaze locked with hers. His first thought was that she was plain as prairie wheat; brown hair, brown mud on her skirt, with a round bosom to match her round behind.
    Yet she had that voice. He still felt a tingle from it.
    With a nod, she stepped around Caleb, who was just getting to his feet. “Stupid cow.”
    “Caleb. Apologize to the lady.”
    “I don’t see no lady.” Caleb stuck out his lip like a five-year-old.
    “What you will see is my fist when you get knocked on your ass again.” Matt towered over him. “Now apologize.”
    “Sorry.” The word was flung without grace or sincerity.
    Matt met the woman’s gaze again. She shrugged and turned away, but not before he saw a glimmer of pain in the depths of her eyes.
    He should just go about his business and not worry about a woman he didn’t know. Yet something told him to make peace with her. It was what his mother would have wanted. That thought alone made his feet move.
    Matt found her by the turnips, empty sack in hand.
    “Excuse me, ma’am?” He was surprised to see her start. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
    “You didn’t. I’m just, well, never mind. It’s been a bad day.” She didn’t even look up from examining the vegetables.
    It gave him the opportunity to study her. She smelled of flour and fresh bread, with just a hint of onions. Her hands were long-fingered and although she obviously worked with them, they were elegant. Her skirt had mud on it and was as plain as the potato sack in her hand.
    Her hair, which looked like light brown from far away, had bits of gold and red in it. Curls were stuffed into a fat braid that swung with each movement. He wondered what that hair would feel like in his hands.
    Matt almost choked on his own spit. First her voice woke up his body into imaginings, and now his imagination was getting into the act. What he needed to do was stop thinking about this stranger and focus on his more immediate problem with the land grant.
    “I just wanted to apologize for my brother.”
    “Don’t fuss over it. He’s a boy.” She had the sack half full by then, picking turnips faster with each word out of his mouth.
    Matt reached out and took her wrist to stop her, wanting to explain why Caleb acted so foolish. He never got the chance. A jolt of something like lightning raced through him, hitting him square in the stomach. He dropped her arm and jumped back a foot, much to his embarrassment.
    She stared at him, her brown gaze wide. “What was that?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “Why did you touch me?” She clutched the potato sack to her chest and inched her way toward the counter.
    “I don’t know. I was trying to apologize.”
    “You already did that.” She bumped into the counter, never taking her gaze off him.
    “I know. I’m sorry.” He was tripping over his own tongue, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him.
    She put a dollar on the counter. “I only got half a sack, Frank. I’ll be back tomorrow for the other half.”
    With that, she almost flew out the window, like a muddy brown bird running from an eagle who had threatened her.
    Matt wanted to slap his forehead. He didn’t have a huge amount of experience with women, but he had some. Enough to know he had just acted like a bigger jackass than Caleb.
    Frank, the mercantile owner with eyebrows that had a life of their own, eyeballed him with a frown. “What did you say to Hannah to make her run like that?”
    A second jolt of lightning smashed into him. “Did you say her name was Hannah?”
    “Yes, you young fool. Hannah Foley is one of my best customers. Doesn’t usually come in on Saturday and you done run her off.” Frank wagged his finger at Matt. “You had no call to be rude to her.”
    “I wasn’t rude. Jesus, did you say her name