The Captive Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

Twenty-five yards off, a small patch of tawny hide stood out against the dull green of a woods in desperate need of rain. In one fluid movement, he raised the bow, pulling the string. He narrowed his eyes, aiming just above chest cavity, and—
    A squalling cry rent the forest air. He threw down the bow, unsure what irritated him most—his daughter’s wail or Inoli’s laughter.
    “You need a woman, no matter what color skin.”
    Unlacing the sling he’d created to tote around little Grace, Samuel slipped out his arms one at a time and shifted her to his front instead of her usual perch on his back. Tears sprouted at the corners of her eyes. Her mouth opened wider. Hunting was definitely over for the day.
    “We’ll camp here.” Cradling Grace in one arm, he pulled out a salted piece of jerky for her to chew on. Her chubby fingers grabbed the chunk and popped it into her mouth, quieting her screams. “Guess she was hungry.”
    “As will we all be if hunting continues at this rate.” Inoli began stomping down a flattened area.
    Pressing a kiss to Grace’s head, Samuel ignored his friend’s warning, focusing instead on his daughter’s downy curls—the only softness in his life.

    The wagon lurched around a corner. Eleanor jerked with the movement, jostling Molly, whose head rested in her lap. Molly’s lips parted, but no sound came out—or maybe it did. Hard to tell with the grind of wheels against gravel, the shouts of hawkers selling their wares, and Biz, who gave a running dialogue of the wonderful, wide streets of Charles Towne.
    “Another redcoat!” She wiggled her eyebrows at Eleanor. “Wonder if I knows him. Din’t think to see so many of that vermin over here.”
    Another bump jolted the cart, and Eleanor flung out her hand, grabbing the side. “Perhaps you ought sit down, Biz. Have you not had your fill of attention from the law?”
    “I got nothin’ to be afeard of. I ain’t done nothin’ wrong.” A slow smile spread across her face. “Mostly.”
    Biz’s hand disappeared inside the ridiculous waistcoat she refused to take off. When it reappeared, two peppermint balls sat in her palm. “Like one?”
    Eleanor shook her head. “How did you manage those?”
    Her grin grew. “Snagged ’em off one of the officers we passed down at the docks.”
    “You do know that stealing is wrong, don’t you?”
    “Oh, it weren’t stealing. He lent ’em to me.” Her face tipped to a provocative angle. How often did the girl get in trouble with that look? “I asked him real nice like.”
    Eleanor narrowed her eyes. “We hardly had time to catch our breath between the ship and this wagon.”
    “I din’t say it were a lengthy conversation.”
    “I suppose you merely whispered it under your breath as your fingers slipped into his pocket?”
    Biz’s eyes sparkled. “You’re a smart one, you are.”
    A gust of hot air whipped a piece of hair across Eleanor’s lips, but by the time she swiped it away, Biz had turned, precluding further comments. The afternoon sun beat down, relentless despite the breeze. She’d heard of the browned skin of Colonial women. Now she understood why as she dared nudge her sleeves up a little farther.
    “Din’t think to see that.” Biz’s voice was tight, strained in a way incongruous to her devil-may-care exterior.
    “What?” Taking care not to disturb Molly overmuch, Eleanor leaned sideways, craning her neck.
    “Over there.”
    Her gaze followed the length of Biz’s outstretched arm. Ten, maybe fifteen paces off the side of the wagon, a young boy lay in the mouth of an alley, red trickling from his nose. Another lad, held by the throat, kicked his feet in the air. The man holding him shouted in his face. All wore nothing but rags.
    Eleanor stared, unable to pull her gaze away though desperately wanting to. The little boy’s legs slowed, and as the wagon rolled past the horrid scene, they quit moving altogether. His body hit the dirt, next to the