Silver Heart (Historical Western Romance) (Longren Family series #1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

and as I was hungry, I assumed both men were as well, and cooking would be familiar, even if all I was doing tonight was building a fire and heating foods the neighbors had brought.  I took my leave of them both, glancing back as I went into the large, well-scrubbed kitchen.  They were eyeing each other warily and though I thought Matthew had the most to fear, Hutch looked equally ill at ease.
                  I didn't try to eavesdrop, and I made certain to move as came naturally in the kitchen which, given it was a kitchen I didn't know, was loud.  I dropped things, bumped into things, and, once, swore audibly when my elbow came in contact with the iron cook stove.  Maybe because I didn't try to be silent, or maybe because Mr. Longren was unused to having anyone else in his house, they spoke in normal voices and once I found I could overhear, I made a point of doing so.
                  "What are you doing?"
                  "Getting up.  I need to get back to my house.  It's no good, me being here. You have a new bride – "
                  "She's not my bride yet, and you'll not get out of it that easy.  Sit down, damn it, Matthew. You're going to make it bleed again.  Do you ever think or do you only act?"
                  "You don't know what happened."  He sounded grumbly, in pain, and I'd need to find a chemist or the doctor everyone had spoken of.  He needed something for the pain.
                  "I intend to," said his brother grimly.  "Was it Joseph Gibbons?"
                  Matthew's voice sounded surprised when he answered.  "No.  Why would Joseph shoot me?"
                  There came a sound like Hutch had punched one hand into the other.  "Why wouldn't he?  I've heard tell you've been courting his daughter."
                  A faint sound of amusement in Matthew's voice.  "This is news to me.  Are we enjoying ourselves?"
                  "You were shot today, Matthew.  Is that a laughing matter?" 
                  I thought that he could laugh at all was a good thing, and then that before much longer, I needed to go in and tell – or perhaps ask – Mr. Longren to go and fetch the doctor.
                  "I'm not seeing Mr. Gibbons' daughter.  I'm fairly certain I'd know."
                  I caught a round of cheese I'd just knocked off the bench, put it back up and looked around for a knife.  I'd lost all track of what I was preparing to go with the plentiful chicken and potatoes.  My attention was fully on the drama going on in the sitting room.
                  "Matthew, I'm not joking.  What.  Happened?"
                  I pumped water, added it to a pitcher, moved to put the pitcher on the big, well-used, spotless table.  I needed to find a tray – Matthew couldn't be sitting up at the table – but was loathe to interrupt the conversation going on in the other room.
                  Which turned then, suddenly far more serious, as befit a gunshot wound, but I was sorry to hear Matthew's voice so grim.
                  "Jason Seth, Hutch." 
                  And after that came silence.  My heart raced, because his voice was grim and because his pronouncement was followed by silence.  Hutch said nothing, though I waited, straining to hear.  I had no idea who Mr. Seth was, or what this had meant, and I was moving toward the door to the kitchen, the one I'd left only pushed to, when something alerted me, the smallest sound, and I whirled back around, going back to the cabinets, searching for plates, for utensils. 
                  "We're just about ready," I said as Mr. Longren came through the door, and turned to see his face was drawn and ashen.  He looked my father's age, and ill.  "Are you all right?"  My hands went out to him.  Without thinking, I reached for