Holt's Gamble Read Online Free PDF Page A

paved cobbled road that led to the waterfront wharfs and slivered through the wavering shadows cast by the rows of poplars which lined the main street.
    Holt pushed away from the wall and slipped cautiously down the row of shops, with Kierin close behind. They stopped alongside the newly constructed Beaudry's Livery. Its raw, unpainted siding was still fragrant with resinous pitch. The woodsy scent drifted to them with each breath as Holt and Kierin pressed deeper into the barn's shadows. A bone-chilling cold settled upon her as soon as she stopped moving, but Kierin stubbornly resisted the temptation to press against Holt's warm bulk. The damp river mist slithered between the thin wrap and her nearly bare shoulders and she pulled the shawl more tightly around her, pressing her fists to her face.
    A screech owl's cry pierced the night's quiet. Kierin ducked her head as the huge bird swooped down close by to scoop up an unsuspecting mouse who had ventured into a moonlit patch of street. She let out a small horrified gasp as she watched the tiny mouse dangle helplessly from the talons of the night creature who disappeared beyond the trees.
    She stood very still, eyes fixed on the darkness, unable to control the tremors that gripped her body. Unwelcome tears burned the backs of her eyes and she swiped at them with her shawl-entangled fist. She felt at that moment as out of control of her own destiny as that tiny mouse certainly was. The currents of the night's events had swept her into dark and unfamiliar territory with a man she did not know.
    Get a hold of yourself, Kierin. It was then that she became aware that Holt was staring at her through the darkness. Her eyes were drawn to his as if by a will of their own. Though the moonlight robbed his eyes of their vivid blue color, it did nothing to lessen the unexpected intensity of his gaze. After a long moment she looked away—fearful that he might, somehow, look right into her.
    "You cold, Princess?" His voice was surprisingly gentle.
    There was that name again, but this time the mocking tone was gone. Kierin bit her lip and refused to look back at him. She shook her head no, but couldn't stop shivering.
    He sighed and looked down the street toward the river. "Have you got anything... more appropriate for night travel in that bag of yours?" he asked, gesturing to the tapestry bag at her feet. His breath formed a little white cloud as he spoke and he fingered the thin silk fabric of her dress. "You're going to freeze your little behind off in that thing."
    "This is hardly the time or place to be thinking about changing, Mr. H—" she began, but he silenced her with a hand on her arm and a warning finger to his lips.
    "Shhh," he whispered, drawing her back farther into the shadow of the livery. The dark figure of a man on horseback passed them on the opposite side of the street. His horse plodded along slowly and the man twisted in his saddle, peering down a dark alleyway between two buildings.
    Holt pulled her closer against his chest. She could feel the ragged pounding of his heart against her back in an odd echo of her own and she heard his gun leave the sheath of its leather holster just below her arm. They stood perfectly still that way, not daring to breathe, until the rider moved out of sight and into the enveloping darkness.
    Holt sheathed his Walker Colt and slowly, almost reluctantly, loosened his grip on her. It wasn't until that moment that he became aware of the sweet womanly scent of her, or how she had fit against him the way fine glove leather fit his hand.
    He raked his fingers through his dark hair, sweeping it out of his eyes. You've been too long without a woman, Holt. Face it—any woman would feel good to you right now. But this one's on the next stage to St. Louis and the sooner the better, he reminded himself. Get your mind back on getting the hell out of here.
    "Do you think he saw us?" The tremor in her voice was more pronounced, from fear or cold he