A Tradition of Pride Read Online Free PDF Page B

about the house alone."
    "I wouldn't have thought a newly married couple would consider things in the terms of practicality."
    Although she couldn't see his face, she could feel his speculative gaze studying her. It was an uncomfortable sensation, like being under a microscope.
    "I think you are mistaken, Mr. MacQuade. Every married couple has to find a place to, live. Our choice was here."
    They were near the center fountain. Moonlight streamed over his shoulder to gild her creamy white complexion with its silvery glow. The black shawl framed her oval face in a medieval fashion, highlighting her delicate bone structure and the royal carriage of her head.
    "I know your father is happy with the choice." His tone became impersonal, losing its inquisitive note. "When I first came here, I was curious why a man as young and fit as your father would need a manager for the farm. He is entirely capable of running it himself. Now that I've learned about his plans for a book, I understand his heights. But don't you find it boring, or are you saying that you are content being a housewife, keeping the home-fires burning for whenever your husband comes home?"
    Her frosty green eyes sliced sharply to his face in time to see the sardonic curl of his mouth as he openly mocked her. She detested his arrogance more at that moment than she had ever done before.
    "My life is fulfilling," was the only reply Lara gave to his taunting question. She knew their dislike of each other was mutual.
    The black grillwork of the gate was in front of them. Lara paused while inserting the key into the padlock. It turned grudgingly, then finally clicked. Loosely grasping one of the iron bars, she started to swing the gate open. It unexpectedly didn't budge and her hand slipped free of the bar as her impetus carried her a stumbling step backward.
    A pair of large hands closed around her waist to steady Lara for the instant necessary to regain her balance. Then the firm support was removed and Rans MacQuade stepped around her. There was a protesting screech of the hinges before the gate allowed itself to be pulled open by him.
    "It needs offing," he said, swinging it experimentally a few times. "I'll send someone up in the morning to see to it."
    "Thank you," Lara accepted his offer with cool indifference.
    He stepped through the gateway, closing it behind him. "Good night, Mrs. Cochran." There was a faintly mocking inclination of his golden brown head.
    "Good night."
    While she snapped the lock securely closed, Lara watched the long, lazy strides that carried him into the cobwebby shadows of the pine trees. She paused, trying to analyze that moment when his large hands had nearly spanned her slender waist. She could still feel their warm imprint. His steadying touch had been automatic and impersonal.
    Her own reaction had been just as bland. She had felt nothing then, and now there was only the lingering impression of his grip. An absent smile quirked the corners of her mouth as Lara turned away from the gate.
    She must remember to mention the incident in her next letter to Angie. After their visit nearly a month ago, this provided proof of her assertion that she was indifferent to a man's touch. The warmth of his hands had neither aroused her nor repulsed her. Angie had not been convinced of Lara's indifference to a man's attention. This should help change her thinking.
    A breeze whispered through the pines, dancing into the courtyard to tease at the shawl around her head, Lara clutched the knitted cloth tighter around her throat and hurried toward the house before the night's chill penetrated her slight covering.
     

 
    Chapter Three
     
    THE BLAZE-FACED BAY snorted and tossed his head, sidestepping spiritedly amid the straight rows of pecan trees. The barren branches almost formed an arch above the horse and rider. Green, thick grass muffled the horse's high stepping strides.
    Lara soothingly stroked the silken curve of his neck before lifting the hand to