LaceysWay Read Online Free PDF

should have been a nurse after all.
    “Who’s Claire?” Lacey asked abruptly.
    Matt Drago frowned. “How do you know about her?”
    “You called for her when you were unconscious.”
    “Oh.”
    Lacey waited for him to go on, but he didn’t seem inclined
to elaborate.
    “Is she your wife?” Lacey asked, knowing it was none of her
business, yet unable to curb her curiosity.
    “I’m not married.”
    “Your sweetheart?”
    “She’s nothing to me,” Matt answered curtly. “Just a girl I
used to know.”
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” Lacey said, unable to
explain why she was so pleased to learn he wasn’t married or engaged.
    “What’s your name, anyway?”
    “Lacey,” she answered somewhat shyly. “Lacey Montana.”
    “Matt Drago.” He looked at her curiously. “Why were you
following the wagon?”
    “My father was on it. The Indians took him away. As soon as
you’re…as soon as someone comes for you, I’m going after him.”
    “After your father?” Matt exclaimed in surprise.
    “Yes.”
    “You can’t go traipsing off after those Apaches by
yourself,” he scoffed. “They’d grab you so fast, it would make your head spin.”
    “I don’t care!” Lacey replied hotly. “They have my father,
and I intend to help him in any way I can.”
    “It’s your life,” Matt muttered. “I guess you can throw it
away if you want. It’s up to you. But you won’t be able to save your old man,
and you’ll just end up getting yourself killed, or worse, if you try.”
    “It’s no concern of yours,” Lacey retorted. But Matt’s words
were so near to her own thoughts, she felt a sense of hopelessness. And then
she brightened as a new thought occurred to her. “When the men from Yuma come
looking for the wagon, perhaps they’ll help me find my father.”
    Matt Drago frowned. The girl was right. When the prison
wagon didn’t show up at Yuma, someone would come looking for it. And for him,
as well. He scowled at his shackled hands. Well, he for damn sure didn’t intend
to be sitting around waiting for them. No, sir! He was heading back to Salt
Creek to find out who set him up for the murder of young Billy Henderson just
as soon as he could travel.
    Matt sipped the last of his coffee thoughtfully. The Indians
had taken the wagon team and the lawmen’s horses, but the girl had a horse, a
good-looking quarter-horse mare. He stared into his empty cup. Of course, he
couldn’t very well take the horse and leave the girl out here alone. She had
saved his life, after all. Well, there was no help for it, she would just have
to go back to Salt Creek with him whether she liked it or not. Maybe Sheriff
Henderson would help her track her old man.
    He would rest up another day or so, Matt decided, and then
be on his way long before anyone from Yuma arrived on the scene. And woe to the
men who had falsely accused him of killing Billy Henderson.
    He slept most of the day. Once, upon waking, he saw Lacey
brushing out her long, russet-colored hair. He watched, mesmerized, as she
pulled the brush through the heavy, silken mass. It was a decidedly feminine
gesture, graceful and innocently provocative. He remembered how soft her hair
had felt against his cheek earlier that day, and he had a sudden urge to run
his fingers through her hair, to massage the back of her slender neck, to taste
those pouting pink lips.
    Feeling his gaze, Lacey turned to find Matt staring at her,
his dark blue eyes alight with a mysterious inner fire. What was he thinking,
she wondered. Unaccountably, her insides began to tremble under the force of
his gaze.
    “What’s wrong?” she asked.
    “Nothing.” His voice sounded strange in his ears.
    Self-conscious now, Lacey put her hairbrush away. Rising,
she walked away from the wagon until she was out of sight behind some scrub
oak. Why had he looked at her like that? And why had she reacted in such a
peculiar way?
    Abruptly, she recalled the way some of the men back at the
ranch had