The Genuine Lady (Heroines on Horseback) Read Online Free Page A

her outrage seemed to be simmering down somewhat. She was distracted by something else. “And are you saying that you are my neighbor? In which direction?”
    “My place is to the south, just over —”
    “To the south! So you are the one who means to divert my water!” The woman sniffed derisively. “Oh yes, I’ve heard about the gentleman buying pick-axes and talking of irrigation canals! You talk too much, I’m afraid. I am considering legal action should you pursue such a course, I think it only fair to warn you.”
    “You can’t take me to court for irrigating my own fields,” he argued, clearly forgetting in his discomfiture that you should never argue with a riled lady. “And the headwaters are on my land. I think it’s clear I can do what I choose with the water.”
    “So you think you can just divert the stream and leave me to die of thirst, is that it?” The woman cast him a withering look, as if she looked upon him and saw something shriveled-up and foul, and he found himself at a loss for words.  
    “Now ma’am,” he began lamely. “I don’t think — And wait — did you say you’re gonna take me to court?” His mind started to turn over. “Maybe I could talk to your husband when he’s around, maybe —”
    “I see what is going on here,” she interrupted icily, hitching up the baby on her hip. The motion popped one button free on her bodice, a button perhaps only half-secured when she’d come bursting out of the shanty to pursue him, and quite without meaning to Jared found his gaze fixed upon the patch of white that was gleaming from between the two pieces of faded blue calico, his mind’s eye helpfully supplying the rest of the round apple of a breast that he had seen just a few moments before, and his imagination began to construct other, even more pleasing images: the other breast, for starters, and then the smooth white slope of her belly, the darkling little shadow of her navel, the golden curls — yes, they’d be golden, to match that thick braid and those elegant brows — tufting in that lovely v of her legs —
    She was suddenly much closer to him and then she was leaning back her free arm and then before he knew what was happening, she was slapping him. He put his hand to his stinging cheek, astonished. She had actually slapped him. The pleasant picture he had been painting for himself fell face-down from the wall. “Why, you little bitch,” he heard himself say, as if from a distance. “I only came out here to advise you and your husband to get back on that train before you starve to death, but I guess I won’t bother now. Might be you starvin’ would do us all a favor.”
    Her jaw dropped, her eyes widened, her baby squirmed against a tight grip, and Jared reckoned he’d just said the meanest things he’d ever said to a woman. He actually felt a little ashamed of himself. You didn’t wish ill on a woman, or call her a bitch. It just wasn’t the way a man ought to behave himself. There was no harm in her slapping him, he had to admit that. He’d been ogling her like she was a showgirl and he got what he deserved. It was him who’d spoken out of turn and gone too far. And they both knew it.  
    “I’ll be out of your way now,” he murmured, and turned to catch up the reins of the roan, who was watching him with pricked ears, as if he, too, was shocked senseless by the way Jared had just spoken to a lady. Jared felt his ears start to burn. There were only four other creatures alive on this stunted little homestead, as far as he knew, and all four were gazing at him with distaste and disbelief. Even the mule in the lean-to and the round-eyed baby were regarding him with studied silence.  
    He and his neighbors were not going to be friends, that much was certain. He hoped they found someone they could rely on out here, though, or they really would starve to death come winter. This place wasn’t half good enough to survive the year, and the Dakota winters were