Deep as the Rivers (Santa Fe Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF Page A

ballroom floor.
        “We’ve not been introduced, no.” He could see that she was piqued at his dismissal last night. The spoiled little cat wasn’t used to having men ignore her. “Given that a beautiful young lady has just saved my life, the very least I must do is offer my name. Colonel Samuel Sheridan Shelby, at your service, my dear.” He grinned as her cheeks pinkened at the suggestive tone of his voice.
        “I am not your ‘dear,’ “ she snapped, giving the reins a sharp slap although the horses were already galloping. “Use my scarf to bind up your arm. I can’t have you passing out and falling beneath the carriage wheels before we make good our escape.”
        He pulled a heavy woolen scarf from her neck and wrapped the cloth securely around his throbbing arm. The roadside moved by them in a blur. When the phaeton took a curve on two wheels, then righted itself with a swaying bounce, he cautioned. “Careful or you’ll overturn us.”
        "I’ve driven some of the finest and the worst carriages ever made as fast as they can go and I’ve never overturned one yet, ‘my dear,’ " Olivia replied smugly.
        “Beautiful and modest, too,” Shelby said dryly, his eyes assessing her delicate profile with amusement. Damn but she was a stubborn beauty with her chin jutting pugnaciously and her pink lips pursed in concentration. He was forced to admit that she handled the reins with considerable expertise. “Am I not to receive the favor of your name, at least? After all, according to custom, when one person saves another’s life, it belongs to the rescuer from that day forward.”
        “I’ve never heard of such a custom,” she said, curious in spite of herself. She pulled on the reins and slowed the lathered team to a trot.
        "‘Tis a common belief among certain of the Indians of the Far West."
        “You’ve been west?” she asked, turning to look him full in the face for the first time. A slight bruise had begun to discolor his left temple and his face was smeared with dust and sweat in spite of the chilly air. For all that, he was still so devastatingly beautiful and disturbingly male, that her breath caught in her throat. Then he smiled, and Olivia was lost. The brilliance of that smile outshone all the candles on the biggest chandelier in the White House.
        “Yes, I’ve been west. I’ve spent some time among the various tribes on the Great Plains, even those living in the vast mountain ranges that cross-sect the continent.”
        “You sound as if you’ve traveled with Lewis and Clark,” she said, her eyes alight with curiosity.
        Samuel realized he had already revealed more of his background than he normally ever did to a strange female, no matter how beautiful or plucky she might be. “No, I was not privileged to make that journey. I’ve had other assignments across the Mississippi. You still have not told me your name. I know you’re French.” He cocked his head, studying her with blue eyes so piercing that she looked away.
        Olivia could feel his gaze on her and knew her body was responding most unsuitably, making her face an unbecoming shade of pink that clashed with her hair. Merde! Why did he have to fluster her so? “I’m Olivia Patrice St. Etienne. Also, it would seem, at your service for this afternoon’s work.” There, dare him directly! If only she could muster the nerve to return his stare. Olivia forced herself to meet those penetrating dark blue eyes, which at the mention of her surname seemed to grow an infinitesimal bit wintry. Then he smiled again and she was not certain if she had imagined it.
        “Charmed, Mademoiselle St. Etienne.”
        “How did you know I was French?” she blurted out, curious about his reaction—or her imagining of his reaction—to her name.
        “Although your English is fluent, there is a faint trace of an accent,” he hedged. He had no desire whatsoever to discuss his mother