Louisiana Laydown Read Online Free PDF Page B

for his attention.
    Sometimes it was difficult to remember that he was actually trying to find something out . . .
    It took two hours of dealing with no small number of rude people with little knowledge of the surrounding country before Fargo finally found someone who gave him directions worth a damn. Following them, he found himself on the outskirts of the city, where swamp hadn’t taken over the fertile fields, and the trees looked almost normal, rather than the haunting, moss-covered trees that he’d seen elsewhere.
    He gave the Ovaro his head, letting him run. It felt good to be on horseback again, the wind in his face, his hat blown backward. Even the rush of air through his recently trimmed hair made him feel alive and well. He had money—quite a bit of it—and if things went well, he stood to earn a good deal more.
    The Ovaro dodged right, around a tree stump, and pulled a tight circle, ready to run across the field again. Fargo pulled him to a halt, letting his big lungs catch up for a minute. Suddenly, the Ovaro snorted a warning and stamped his front hoof. Fargo’s hand moved to the butt of his Colt, even as his eyes scanned the shadows beneath the trees for whatever or whoever was there. A faint movement caught his gaze, and with breathtaking speed the Colt cleared the holster and was aimed at the form. “Show yourself!” he barked, his hands rock steady.
    “Don’t . . . don’t shoot me, please,” a female voice said. “I didn’t mean to startle you or your fine horse.”
    “Come on out from beneath that tree,” Fargo said. “Nice and easy. I’m a mite jumpy, and I’ve run across far too many women who were good with a gun to go on pure trust these days.”
    She stepped out from beneath the trees and Fargo felt his jaw unhinge a little bit. She was just about the most breathtaking creature he’d ever laid eyes on. Her skin was the color of coffee with just a bit of fresh cream mixed in and her eyes, large and dark, were mirrored pools deep enough for a man to drown in. Her face was absolutely guileless, unmarked by lies or harsh words, like so many women he’d seen. It almost glowed from within.
    She wore a simple dress, cut of one cloth, and her large breasts swelled against the tight, cotton fabric. The ivory color suited her, he thought, as his eyes traveled over her hips and down her shapely legs. From his vantage atop the horse, he could see that she wore no shoes. He holstered the Colt, and tipped his hat. “Ma’am,” he said.
    She laughed, and it was the sound of an angel singing. “Don’t you go calling me that,” she said. “I may be a lot of things, but I don’t hardly qualify as no lady.”
    “Reckon I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,” Fargo said. “Least until you prove otherwise. You’re a long way from anywhere out here.”
    “I like to come here sometimes,” she said. “It’s quiet most of the time and no one bothers me.”
    “I don’t suppose,” he said. “Why were you hiding under the trees?”
    “I . . .” She cast her eyes downward, in the same way he’d seen slaves do. “I didn’t mean no harm. I just wanted to watch your horse. I never seen one like that before.”
    “Yes,” he said. “He’s a good one. Full of himself, too.” He climbed down out of the saddle. “Would you like to ride him?”
    She looked startled and held up her hands. “Oh . . . oh, no! I didn’t mean that! I just wanted to watch. I . . . I’ll leave now and won’t trouble you no more.” She started to back away.
    “Hold on,” Fargo said. “You haven’t troubled me. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He gestured vaguely at the trees. “Are you from around here?” he asked.
    She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I work in the city most every day. I just come out here once in a while, when I can . . .” She caught her breath, then took what must have seemed to her a daring risk, by adding, “Just so I can breathe again.”
    Fargo chuckled. “I