The Redhead and the Preacher: A Loveswept Historical Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

forgotten.
    Muscle-weary from holding herself erect and trying tokeep the money still as the coach bounced, Macky finally gave up and lifted the window curtain. All she could see was open prairie.
    She allowed herself to slump slightly, leaning her neck back against the hard seat. The way her stomach was gnawing on her backbone she was glad the stranger was still sleeping, else he’d think he was about to be eaten by termites.
    No matter how hard she tried to focus on her problems, her thoughts were drawn back to the man who called himself Bran. His boots scraped against the foot of the coach when it hit a bump in the trail. Occasionally his knee touched hers, setting off a fresh tightening of the nerves in her legs.
    She decided that her feeling of anticipation was much like that of a moth being drawn to a candle flame. Even though the flame burned, the creature couldn’t control its attraction.
    As they rocked back and forth, a certain tension started to build. In spite of herself she began to wait for the point at which they would touch. If her brother had been there he’d be taking bets on the next encounter. And, as likely as not, losing.
    An unusually deep hole bounced Macky into the air, unfastening her cape and jingling the money inside her velvet purse. Damn banker! Why hadn’t all his payroll been in paper money? Why hadn’t she left the coins in the portmanteau instead of carrying them on her person?
    Don’t be silly, Macky, even honest people have coins occasionally
. It was just that the sound of those coins seemed to call attention to her, announcing to the world that she was a bank robber.
    “Better find a way to stop that jiggling around,” the stranger said, in a low, rough voice that gave the impression he didn’t talk a lot. “You’ll be accosted before you go ten feet outside this coach.”
    “I have no intention of being robbed,” she said and untiedthe drawstrings from her waist. No point in trying to conceal what she was carrying. If her traveling companion had been interested in robbing her, he’d already have done so.
    Macky tied the coins in the four corners of her handkerchief the way she’d seen her mother do long ago. “But I thank you for your advice,” she added in a rare show of proper training that would support her new identity in Denver.
    “Wasn’t talking about the money,” he said, tipping his hat away from his face with one black-gloved finger. His piercing dark eye came into view, focusing first on her chin, then traveling insolently lower. “ ‘Let your loins be girded above.’ ”
    Macky followed the line of his vision to her chest. The open cape revealed where her blouse gaped between the buttons, exposing bare skin beneath.
    “You wall-eyed peeping Tom!” she swore, promptly forgetting her plan to adopt a new identity, then tugged the front of her shirtwaist together. “How dare you quote Bible verse while looking at my—my private person?”
    “Wouldn’t, normally. Personally, never did have much patience with women who bound themselves up in layers of clothes, but in your case that’s a mite safer than opening yourself up to be ogled.”
    He didn’t even try to conceal his amusement. Not many women were so blunt in their speech or so foolish as to threaten a man like him. Any other time he might have reminded her that she was alone and at his mercy.
    Instead he reached inside his greatcoat and drew out a small black cigar, then leaned forward to strike a match against the bottom of his boot, taking a long open look at her bodice.
    Macky couldn’t remember ever having blushed before; she’d never had a reason to do so. But, so far as she knew, a man had never seen her breasts before either, certainly never lookedat them with such open appreciation. She pulled one side of her cape over the other and retied it.
    “I can see how you got the name Eyes That See in Darkness,” she snapped. “You’re like a hawk, studying the field for his