Raven and the Cowboy: A Loveswept Historical Romance Read Online Free PDF

attacked and nobody had shot him. He must have dozed off and fallen from his horse. That explanation didn’t make much sense, but it was the only one he had for now. But what about the woman?
    Now that he was in reasonable control of himself, he turned to face her. She was young, slender, her skin a warm color, not from the fire but from being kissed by the sun, her voice soft and mysterious. Her hair was as dark as the night, her eyes as brilliant as the black stones he’d seen once in a necklace worn by a woman riding in a fancycarriage. He’d never seen anyone who could sit so still or be so quiet.
    She wore her thick hair in a single braid that fell across her chest. The woman had an elegant beauty about her, a mystical way of tilting her head as if she heard unspoken words. But more compelling than any of these was the feeling of power that radiated from every part of her. He felt as if he were in the presence of the gods, and he didn’t like the awareness that she pulled from inside him. Everything about her left him even more dazed.
    All of this he knew without her speaking a word.
    “You’re an Indian.”
    “I’m part Indian.” She looked down at her dress. “Does that bother you?”
    He could have told her that it was the feel of her body against him for most of the night that bothered him. Indians weren’t his favorite people, but something about her trusting nature made him keep that to himself.
    “Just tell me you’re not a Comanche. I’ve heard the women take male prisoners and turn them into slaves.”
    “I’m Arapaho and you’re much too big for one woman to hold you as a slave.”
    He couldn’t hold back a smile. “I don’t know. You seem to have strange powers.” That statement was certainly true. “I’ve managed to travel alone for thirty-two years. This is the first time I can remember waking up with a woman I didn’t go to bed with.”
    “Don’t try to understand. Just accept what has happened. We were meant to come together. Have you had no dreams of birds?”
    He gave her an odd look. “Dreams? No, but hundreds of them saved my life yesterday. Black birds. I never saw such a flock of black birds before. They got me out of a pretty bad mess. Did you have anything to do with that?”
    “No,” she answered simply.
    This was all too much for Tucker. He licked his dry lips. “Don’t suppose you happened to bring a canteen with you?”
    She shook her head. “I have this. An earlier occupant must have left it here on the ledge. The rain filled it with water.” She reached for a piece of broken pottery and handed it to him.
    He swallowed the liquid as if it were the tonic once made by his mother, the one he’d had to hold his nose to swallow every spring. To his surprise the water was sweet and cool, and in a few minutes his head began to clear.
    “It’s been a long time since a drink of water had that effect on me,” he said, beginning to consider the possibility that this woman might not be what she seemed.
    She was studying him quizzically. “One cannot understand the workings of Mother Earth. She sends many gifts that we accept without question.”
    “If you’re telling me that Mother Earth sent those birds to save my neck, don’t. I don’t understand and I don’t want to. Right now all I want to do is get back up there and check on my horse. Don’t guess you saw any sign of a ladder, did you?”
    “No, but while you were sleeping I looked around. There appears to be a kind of path around the wall heading up. Whoever used this cave in the past had to have a way to get down and back. I didn’t follow it because I didn’t want to leave you. It’s very narrow.”
    Tucker groaned. No point in telling her that he’d likely look down and pass out cold. If he didn’t fall, the height would paralyze him and he’d end up a mummified corpse stuck to the side of this godforsaken cliff.
    “I think we should hurry,” she said suddenly, tilting her head. “Riders