Branded Hearts. Diana Hall

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СКАЧАТЬ Rotating his shoulders, he took his time crossing the yard. Curls at the nape of his neck coiled in several directions. A too long lock of hair draped over his eyes, giving him a roguish look.

      Kit let her fingers slip through the loose hay on the loft floor. A remote attempt to brush back Garret’s wayward strands. Surprised at her response, she pinned her fingers under crossed arms. A fluttering sensation swept across her chest and nestled just below her heart.

      Touching his finger to his hat, Garret nodded toward the woman. “Miss Abigail.” He didn’t look at the driver as he added, “Fredrick.”

      Abigail Benton! Kit grabbed the pulley rope and leaned out the window. So this was what her cousin looked like. When Garret had mentioned he was courting her, Kit’s stomach had flip-flopped. She had made some discreet inquiries about Abigail and her father, Eli, hoping to gain their help in her search. Both turned out to be self-centered wastrels, living off Sam Benton. Kit had avoided any contact.

      A sour taste puckered her mouth as the dainty young woman leaned over the driver and clasped Garret’s hand. “I’ve been so worried about you. Rumors are flying.”

      Worried? The only thing Abigail Benton ever concerned herself with was Abigail. Kit fumed as the young woman stepped down, lifted her hem and displayed small, delicate ankles.

      Ensconced between the buggy and Garret’s tall frame, Abigail slowly withdrew her lace-covered hand from his loose hold. Lifting the netting from her face, she displayed clear alabaster skin and a cameo profile. “Garret’s going to clear this whole thing up.”

      She’s batting her eyelashes! Kit retreated into the loft and pulled the crown of her water-stained hat down to her eyebrows. How can Garret be so naive? Can’t he see he deserves better than a simpering tease?

      Disappointment sliced through Kit’s heart along with a nasty emotion she was afraid to identify. It felt too close to jealousy. She shouldn’t care what the lean rancher did or whom he married. But she did. Somehow, Garret had become more than a convenient hideout.

      “You hired anyone lately?” Fredrick issued the question like a command.

      “What business is it of yours?” Garret stiffened. What happened on the Rockin’ G was none of Marvin Fredrick’s concern.

      Fredrick’s heavy jowls looked as though they’d been sandpapered. He gave Garret a nasty smile, baring white even teeth. “Word has it two Indians tricked you and that brother of yours into hiring them.”

      Garret looked past the buggy to the barn. Kit sat in the loft window, eavesdropping along with the other men.

      Abigail fluttered her hand like a fan. “Don’t take Fredrick’s comments the wrong way.”

      “Don’t worry, Miss Abigail.” Garret constrained the anger from his voice. “I wouldn’t stoop to a fight with you here. I’m sure Fredrick realized that when he suggested you come with him.” Garret watched the man’s face contort in a grimace of anger and outrage at the intended insult.

      Behind him, Vega and Cracker snickered as they inspected a saddle Kit had already cleaned and repaired. Candus stooped to examine the hoof of a mule tied to the hitching post. His deep chortle could be easily heard. Bugeyed and with a wide grin, Davidson sat on the porch and shouted, “Good one, Cap’n.”

      At least Garret didn’t have to deal with Cade’s biting wit and Hawk’s imposing presence. They were bringing in cattle from the valley pastures.

      “Cade hired a man. Goes by the name of Hawk. And I took on Kit.” Now was not the time to tell Abigail that his new employee was a woman. Not with Fredrick after him like a snapping turtle. Garret’d ride into town in a few days and explain everything to her. After she had some time to digest his next bit of news.

      Abigail patted her elaborately coiffed hair. “All of this was just a silly mistake.”

      “Kit and Hawk are half-Cheyenne.” Garret’s voice dropped in timbre, but he made the statement without apology.

      “Garret!” Beauty could hide many flaws, but Abigail’s china-doll face magnified the prejudice in her soul. Her eyes narrowed to slits and the Cupid’s bow of her lips thinned to a stiff, tight line.

      “Indians are nothing but filthy animals.” Abigail’s whine pained his ears. She clutched the throat of her frock coat. “Really, I had thought you better than your upbringing.”

      The verbal slap rubbed salt into the wound of his childhood. Garret tried to reason with her. “There’s no cause for this.”

      “Of course there’s cause.” Abigail’s voice turned shrill with indignation. “I cannot believe you would put all the women in the area in danger like this. My uncle Samuel says—”

      “Your uncle Sam talks a lot.” Garret could have bit his tongue after he spoke. Hell, where had that come from? It sounded like something Cade would say. Looking toward the barn, Garret spotted Kit still leaning dangerously out of the window. She gave him a nod of approval. His lips twitched. He almost found himself smiling.

      “Sam Benton knows what this territory needs to become a state.” Fredrick reached out his hand and helped Abigail return to the carriage. “And he knows exactly what should be done with every murdering redskin.”

      This kind of talk could only lead to trouble for Kit, Hawk and the Rockin’ G. Wild talk and a liquored-up crowd were a recipe for a hanging party. Garret replied staunchly, “Those Indians haven’t murdered anyone.”

      Fredrick pointed his finger at Garret. “Four nights ago, rustlers hit Ben Harris. He lost twenty head of cattle, a string of prime horses and three men. The outlaws took scalps.”

      Four nights ago! While Garret had been arguing with Kit by the pool, rustlers had attacked. She had an alibi, but what of Hawk? He hadn’t shown up until sundown. Where had he been for those few hours? As soon as Cade rode in, Garret had some questions to ask.

      He wasn’t about to let Fredrick see the lash of doubt. “If I catch any of my men tossing a loose rope, I’ll be the first to turn them in.”

      Abigail sat primly in the carriage, staring straight ahead. “Garret, you have the potential to make something of yourself, despite your mother. Are you going to throw that all away for a couple of savages?”

      A whore’s son. He couldn’t escape it. Every cowboy that had ridden the range in the last ten years knew about his ma. His fingernails dug angrily into the soft leather binding of the surrey. “Leave my mother out of this,” he rasped warningly.

      Startled, Abigail pulled an immaculate handkerchief from her drawstring pocket and waited, the clear expectation of an apology on her face. Garret didn’t oblige.

      Abigail bit her lip and let a fine line of hardness into her voice. “I am well aware you are sorely lacking in education and breeding. I’m willing to overlook that, but if you expect to ever court me again, then you had best get rid of those creatures.”

      Her gaze flickered over his face then lingered on his mouth. Her voice turned husky. “I don’t hold a grudge. Unlike my uncle Samuel. Get rid of those Indians, and everything can be just like it was.”

      It didn’t matter that the words came from a pretty package and that Abigail’s voice sounded sweet СКАЧАТЬ