Desperate Hearts Read Online Free PDF
Author: Alexis Harrington
lip.
Oh, hell, he thought, he had agreed to help
him. It wasn’t syrupy benevolence that made him decide to let the
kid tag along. After Misfortune, he just didn’t have anything
better to do. Gently, to avoid jostling his head, he put on his
hat.
“ Right, kid—Kyle. We’ve got
a deal. I’ll get my horse.”
The boy gave a short nod and jumped down to
untie his own gelding.
Rankin descended the steps
and started off toward the livery. He turned suddenly and walked
back to the dun’s side. “But let’s get a couple of things straight.
I’m used to working alone and traveling alone. So if you can’t keep
up, that’s your problem. I expect you to pull your own weight, and
do as you’re told. If the going gets hard, I don’t want to hear any
bellyaching. And if you ever get the notion to point that gun at me,” he
continued softly, indicating the kid’s revolver, “well, let’s just
say that I’ll turn it into the biggest regret of your
life.”
Kyle’s expression was stony. “Okay, Mr.
Rankin.”
“ And while we’re at it, lay
off that ‘Mr. Rankin’ stuff. You might as well call me
Jace."
Kyle glared at him, then spit in the dusty
street. “Jace.”
* * *
The terrain was rough and craggy, and the
going slow as they picked their way down through the mountains. But
Jace set a steady pace that allowed no dawdling. A lot of the time
they rode single file, with Jace ahead of Kyla. That was fine with
her—at least she didn’t have those cold eyes boring into her
back.
Hours passed with nothing to look at but the
rump of Jace’s horse and passing tumbleweeds, punctuated by scrubby
sagebrush or an occasional sudden chasm. Overhead the sky was deep
blue, that particular shade seen only in autumn; now and then a
hawk would cross the face of the sun and cast a shadow on the
dust.
They were too far apart to talk, and even if
they hadn’t been, Kyla didn’t know what she would say to the man.
Nothing about him encouraged conversation. He was everything his
reputation claimed: cold, detached, intimidating. He rode far
ahead, never looking back to see if she followed, and by his manner
he made it plain that Kyle Springer was not much more than a
nuisance to be tolerated.
At any rate, ever conscious of preserving
her disguise, she was doubly glad to be out of his range of vision.
And it was just as well that they didn’t talk much; subduing her
feminine voice was the hardest part of being Kyle, although she
knew she didn’t sound too girlish. As they descended from the
mountains and the sun climbed, so did the temperature. She took off
her coat, confident of her binding. Her only inconvenience was
finding scrub tall and dense enough to let her attend to personal
needs in seclusion.
“ You’re pretty damned shy
for someone who talks as big as you do. You don’t own anything I
haven’t seen before,” Jace groused impatiently after she returned
from a long walk to a sage thicket. His eyes shone like shards of
blue ice.
“ Then you ain’t missin’
nothin’, are you,” she said curtly, putting her foot in her
stirrup. She hoisted herself into the saddle. "Sometimes a man
likes his privacy."
Jace snorted. “Yeah, right.” He was already
on his horse, and Kyla supposed he probably would have left her if
she hadn’t come back when she did.
By the time they reached more level ground,
they had crossed into Oregon and most of the day was gone. Jace
reined in his horse next to a spindly ponderosa pine and waited
until Kyla caught up to him. He’d taken off his duster and rolled
his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. She was surprised to see that
what she’d mistaken for the bulk of a coat across his shoulders was
really muscle. She hadn’t noticed last night, given the
circumstances.
He pointed to a sheltered place against a
canyon wall and pulled out his rifle. “We’ll make camp over there.
I’m going to get something for dinner. You get the fire started—I
hope you can cook.”
She
Oh, hell, he thought, he had agreed to help
him. It wasn’t syrupy benevolence that made him decide to let the
kid tag along. After Misfortune, he just didn’t have anything
better to do. Gently, to avoid jostling his head, he put on his
hat.
“ Right, kid—Kyle. We’ve got
a deal. I’ll get my horse.”
The boy gave a short nod and jumped down to
untie his own gelding.
Rankin descended the steps
and started off toward the livery. He turned suddenly and walked
back to the dun’s side. “But let’s get a couple of things straight.
I’m used to working alone and traveling alone. So if you can’t keep
up, that’s your problem. I expect you to pull your own weight, and
do as you’re told. If the going gets hard, I don’t want to hear any
bellyaching. And if you ever get the notion to point that gun at me,” he
continued softly, indicating the kid’s revolver, “well, let’s just
say that I’ll turn it into the biggest regret of your
life.”
Kyle’s expression was stony. “Okay, Mr.
Rankin.”
“ And while we’re at it, lay
off that ‘Mr. Rankin’ stuff. You might as well call me
Jace."
Kyle glared at him, then spit in the dusty
street. “Jace.”
* * *
The terrain was rough and craggy, and the
going slow as they picked their way down through the mountains. But
Jace set a steady pace that allowed no dawdling. A lot of the time
they rode single file, with Jace ahead of Kyla. That was fine with
her—at least she didn’t have those cold eyes boring into her
back.
Hours passed with nothing to look at but the
rump of Jace’s horse and passing tumbleweeds, punctuated by scrubby
sagebrush or an occasional sudden chasm. Overhead the sky was deep
blue, that particular shade seen only in autumn; now and then a
hawk would cross the face of the sun and cast a shadow on the
dust.
They were too far apart to talk, and even if
they hadn’t been, Kyla didn’t know what she would say to the man.
Nothing about him encouraged conversation. He was everything his
reputation claimed: cold, detached, intimidating. He rode far
ahead, never looking back to see if she followed, and by his manner
he made it plain that Kyle Springer was not much more than a
nuisance to be tolerated.
At any rate, ever conscious of preserving
her disguise, she was doubly glad to be out of his range of vision.
And it was just as well that they didn’t talk much; subduing her
feminine voice was the hardest part of being Kyle, although she
knew she didn’t sound too girlish. As they descended from the
mountains and the sun climbed, so did the temperature. She took off
her coat, confident of her binding. Her only inconvenience was
finding scrub tall and dense enough to let her attend to personal
needs in seclusion.
“ You’re pretty damned shy
for someone who talks as big as you do. You don’t own anything I
haven’t seen before,” Jace groused impatiently after she returned
from a long walk to a sage thicket. His eyes shone like shards of
blue ice.
“ Then you ain’t missin’
nothin’, are you,” she said curtly, putting her foot in her
stirrup. She hoisted herself into the saddle. "Sometimes a man
likes his privacy."
Jace snorted. “Yeah, right.” He was already
on his horse, and Kyla supposed he probably would have left her if
she hadn’t come back when she did.
By the time they reached more level ground,
they had crossed into Oregon and most of the day was gone. Jace
reined in his horse next to a spindly ponderosa pine and waited
until Kyla caught up to him. He’d taken off his duster and rolled
his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. She was surprised to see that
what she’d mistaken for the bulk of a coat across his shoulders was
really muscle. She hadn’t noticed last night, given the
circumstances.
He pointed to a sheltered place against a
canyon wall and pulled out his rifle. “We’ll make camp over there.
I’m going to get something for dinner. You get the fire started—I
hope you can cook.”
She