Let Me Love You Read Online Free PDF Page B

with snow that she hauled in a bucket at a time while letting all her coal heat out the front door as she did it.
    Filling a kettle, she set it on the stove and barred the door. The idea of being pretty took hold of her and there was no denying she wanted to indulge her feminine side. As long as she was going to town to take Clayton’s money to the bank, she might as well look good. Her memory reminded her that it was Friday. A smile covered her face as she began to dig the hairpins out of her braids. The church ladies would be hosting a social tonight, in their ongoing efforts to keep the male population away from the saloons and certain damnation. There would be music and dancing, all carefully chaperoned by the matrons.
    It might be the last one she could make it to before winter sealed her tight in her home. In the interest of flash-fire protection, the mill was at the edge of town. Once the snow drifted, it was safer to stay at home rather than risk the walk through the weather. She’d spend the winter months working the black cast-iron sewing machine that was pushed into the corner of her kitchen. A neat stack of fabric lay waiting for her to cut it into new garments and the scraps would be used for quilt blocks to cover her rough wool blankets and make them comfy. Only the tiniest bits would be tossed into the stove. The idea of hearing music was suddenly tempting beyond her control. She’d be alone with herself soon enough when the weather turned foul.
    She wouldn’t mind. It was quiet and simple. Today as she sank back into her tub, it was serene. She felt a tiny bit mischievous, completely naked with nothing but water on her skin. There was one more thing for the good matrons in town to berate her for…bathing in the nude. Polite society dictated that young ladies wore a bathing chemise while attending to the chore of cleaning their skin. Blah. That made no sense at all. Once the thin cotton was wet, you could see right through it anyway and she just couldn’t justify spending money on a garment that was only used to promote her modesty. The body needed cleaning like everything else in life. She figured the Lord understood, since he’d made her. If she were in some grand school for young ladies, she might need to bathe in a chemise, but not alone on a patch of California homesteaded land.
    Moving the soap over her skin raised gooseflesh and sent heat through her belly. Her nipples were hard little peaks that didn’t have anything to do with the temperature. No, she was still seeing Sloan’s obsidian eyes and the way his gaze had lingered over her body for just the briefest of moments. It was like he’d touched her, stroked every inch of her body and sent heat racing through her blood.
    Foolishness? Quite possibly. But the pleasure spreading through her body fascinated her. At twenty, a part of her was actually relieved to discover even base lust moving along her body. Most of the town girls married up by eighteen. There had never been a single man who had made her take a second look at him.
    Except Sloan.
    Brianna frowned. Too bad he was such a brute. Oh yes, she had seen his type before. The men who laid down their law on anyone and everyone, but most especially their wives. That was, when they married. Few of them did. More than one woman had climbed into the daily stagecoach with disgrace clinging to her hem because of a lawman in town. They were hard men who lived life just as bluntly. Everything was done to the extreme and there was no such thing as flirting with them. They took your hand and didn’t stop. It was the one thing her father had insisted she do—steer clear of the rougher element.
    Which meant leaving her fantasies of Sloan behind, like her used bath water. It wouldn’t be so hard, just stand up and step away from the rush of sensation running over her skin. Reach back and wrap her fingers around the chain that was attached to the plug in the bottom of the tub and give it a yank. The