Lone Star Lover Read Online Free PDF Page A

going to her throat, and regarded him with wide wary eyes.
    The swishing sound of her full skirt startled him. He blinked away the sudden fuzziness clouding his vision, and then peered more closely at the old-fashioned dress that was too big for her. If not for the low neckline, the garment looked as if it were something a Quaker or Amish woman might wear. But he didn’t know of any religious settlements near Appleton. Besides, not with that neckline…“Your name is Rebecca, right?”
    She nodded, and closed the stove door, but kept hold of the poker like a weapon. Her hair, tied back at the nape, was so long and thick that it flowed over one shoulder nearly down to her waist.
    “Do you live here? Is this your home?”
    She moistened her lips, and he noticed the small curved scar near the right corner of her mouth. “For now,” she said finally.
    “How close are we to Houston?”
    She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know.”
    “Is it an hour from here? Two hours?”
    Rebecca glanced toward the door. “Kitty will know.”
    Jake knew he made her uneasy, but there was nothing he could do but offer verbal reassurance, which he suspected would do no good. Even if he were so inclined, he was in no condition to harm anyone, and she had to know that much. “Were you the one who found me?”
    “Goodness no.” Her eyebrows went up in surprise, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “Slow Jim found you.”
    “Slow Jim?”
    She nodded gravely. “Good thing he was headed this way or I heard Cook say that the buzzards would’ve got you.” She went to the window and carefully pushed the curtain to the side about an inch, then glanced out before turning back to him. “I expect it’s all right to give you more water, if you want some.”
    “Yes, please.”
    Studying him with a thoughtful frown, she slowly moved toward a white pitcher sitting on a three-legged stool.
    “Is something wrong?”
    She blushed. “You have real nice manners, is all,” she murmured, and concentrated on pouring some water in a tin cup.
    Man, he had to still be asleep and dreaming. The way she spoke and dressed, the roughly made furnishings and the apparent lack of plumbing…
    He knew there were folks who lived off-grid, shunning modern conveniences and the use of public utilities, but they’d have to live close to a river or spring, not out here. Except the crazy thing was, he didn’t know where “out here” was. But he had to be somewhat close to Houston.
    She started toward him with the cup, and he noticed her boots. They were old, worn and laced up the front. She had to be part of some kind of religious sect. The dress was still a mystery though. It wasn’t indecent, just not modest enough to appease a religious order.
    When she got to his side, she looked uncertain. “Do you think you can raise yourself up a bit?”
    “I’d like to try and sit if you’ll help me.”
    She nibbled at her lip. “Miss Kitty might not like that.”
    “Then she can yell at me.”
    Rebecca almost smiled as she set the cup next to the basin. “You best be careful. She’s not one to take any sass.”
    “I’ll remember that.” He winked, and she blushed a pretty pink. “If you give me your arm, I’ll try and pull myself up.”
    “All right, but if you start to hurt—”
    “I’m sure it’s gonna hurt like a son of a—” He cut himself short, and offered a conciliatory smile. “But I’ll feel better sitting up.”
    She gave a small nod, and faced him, holding out both arms.
    Damn, she was small. He had to outweigh her by a good hundred pounds. Fine thing if they both ended up on the floor. He reached up and circled her forearm with his hand. She was small-boned and too thin. At her wrist, where she’d pushed back her sleeve, he saw a scar, as if she’d been bound at some point.
    He released her. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “Maybe we should wait.”
    She lifted a shoulder. “I’m stronger than I look.”
    The movement