The Convict and the Cattleman Read Online Free PDF Page A

nature. And the matron knew it. Come the end of the month, Mrs. Bell probably expected to see him back, ready to announce banns and sign a marriage license.
    He had no intentions of bedding Bridgit. Not one.
     

 
    4
     
    The sharp, craggy peaks of the Blue Mountains pierced the gray-blue sky like the teeth of a sleeping giant. The air was cooler, the wind less harsh as the gig rolled along the road. Jonah pushed the horse as much as he dared, wanting to get the trip behind him.
    He might not intend to bed Bridget, but he wasn’t immune to her. He’d wanted to peel the stockings off and run his fingers up the skin beneath. How would it feel to have those legs locked around him, her lips swollen and red from kissing, her face flushed after lovemaking? Sheets torn off the bed, clothing scattered about the room.
    Annoyance overcame his desire. He needed a good swift kick for not seeking a willing woman in Sydney when he had the chance. He should’ve refused to accept Bridgit; he knew she’d cause temptation among his men. He’d not expected her to tempt him.
    Since Olivia’s birth, he’d barely thought about women. Thank God for calving season. He didn’t understand why one dirty, big-eyed convict should turn his thoughts from cattle to sex. A few quick moments of brushing her skin shouldn’t make him want to explore all of it.
    He glanced at Bridgit. She absently tugged a string on her sleeve. Her gaze was on the landscape, but she seemed deep in thought. He doubted their intimate moment lingered on her mind the way it crowded in his.
    Instead of imagining her legs, he ought to thank heavens they were on the road again. She'd suffered a minor injury, but it could easily have been a broken bone and a huge setback. He opened his mouth to ask what troubled her, but a sigh tripped past his lips. He didn't need to get more involved.
     
    * * * *
     
    The morning and afternoon passed with no more than a few words between them, much like the day before. As the sun burned across the sky, he noticed Bridgit’s skin turning pinker. He hadn’t thought to ask if she owned a hat. Or if the Factory provided a coat or cape for the cool nights. By the time they reached the station, she would be worse for the wear. Their eyes met for a second before she lowered hers.
    “I’ve never seen mountains quite like these. There are the Dublin Mountains back home, but they’re south of the city. I never got the opportunity to visit them,” she said.
    “If it’s your dream to see mountains, here they are. For years everyone thought they were impassable. When a way across was discovered, they built a road. It’s been improved upon over time. I hate to think how long the trip would take if we had to go around. Three days is plenty long enough.”
    She didn’t strike him as the type who enjoyed mountains, much less desired to explore them.
    “Three days is a wee scrap of time compared to five treacherous months on a rickety ship.”
    He couldn’t imagine living in the filth of a tiny hold filled with criminals for any length of time. It was, no doubt, a life-altering experience. The finality in her voice suggested she wouldn’t undertake such a trip again.
    “Even though by the time we reach the station your arse will be numb from the bouncing?”
    Color rose in her cheeks. She met his eyes boldly. “Ladies don’t speak of their t’other ends with men.”
    A lady. Well, she was better mannered than most of the convicts he’d met, but he wasn’t sure lady was the right term either. “I hadn’t been informed ladies made it a habit to pick pockets.”
    “Most of them don’t, but the ones that do try not to get caught. I made quite a mess out of it. You can rest assured I will never attempt it again.”
    She sounded so earnest, Jonah wanted to believe her. Bridgit was full of surprises. She hadn’t complained about the sorry fare or sleeping on the hard ground. She’d said nothing more about her leg or the dust blanketing both