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

supper.”
    A moment of fear flashed in her eyes, then was quickly replaced by determination. She refused to be intimidated by anybody—ever again.
    Bran recognized that second of panic and regretted that he’d caused it. Whatever she was running away from must have been pretty bad. In a rare moment of kindness he reached back and tried to soften the effect of his words.
    “I told you to call me Bran.”
    “ ‘Brand’ as in ‘cattle brand’? Isn’t that an odd name for a preacher?”
    “Bran, without a
d
, as in ‘devil.’ ” A suggestion of a smile wrinkled the corners of his mouth. “You think I’m a preacher?”
    “Never knew but two men to carry a Bible around. One was a peddler and one was a preacher. How do you make your living?”
    He should never have dropped his guard, but he found himself responding again. “Only answer to the law, a future wife, or Saint Peter. We can eliminate the first two and we aren’t in heaven yet.”
    He drew in the smoke and let it out slowly. Macky felt as if he could see straight through her clothing, but she had no intention of letting him know how uncomfortable she was. It came to her that this was a test. If she couldn’t stave off one man, how could she hope to find a place for herself in Denver where she’d heard that women were rare?
    “Only thing I’m sure of is that I’m nobody’s future wife, certainly not yours.”
    “Not interested in a man?”
    She would have spit if she could. “Nope!”
    “Expect to go West alone?”
    “I do.”
    “Full of grit, aren’t you?”
    “I can take care of myself.”
    “None of my business,” he said wryly, “but next time you put on that garment, turn it around. My guess is that there’s more room for your ‘private person’ with the front of the shirtwaist in the front.”
    She thought back to the woman in the dress shop and the smug smile she’d given Macky when she studied her in the new clothes. Damn woman. She could have told Macky. But she’d let her go out of the shop looking like the ignorant know-nothing girl she was.
    Macky suddenly swung her purse, catching the man’s cheek with a heavy whack. Wasn’t his fault that she’d reached the end of her control, but he was the one who had caught the brunt of it.
    He didn’t move when she hit him. Then, like one of those lizards that flicked out his tongue and caught his prey in the blink of an eye, Bran flipped his cigar out the window and jerked her across the seat. He turned her around, folded his arms across her chest, and spread his legs, pulling her bottom close to him.
    When he spoke, his voice was tight with fury, not from her attack, but from the unexpected rush of heat that came when he put his arms around her.
    “Had a few black eyes in my day, woman, but they were honest in the getting. Being slapped for telling the truth is something I don’t take kindly to.”
    At that moment the sound of gunfire broke out and a barrage of bullets pelted the carriage door. The driver yelled and the horses began to gallop. The stranger pushed Macky down across the seat where she’d been sitting only moments before, shielding her body with his own.
    “The devil’s pitchfork! What are you trying to do,” she cried, trying to twist out from under him, “smash the breath out of me?”
    He curled his arm around her waist and shoved her evenfarther down until she was in the foot of the carriage with his knee planted against her chest.
    “Now shut up,” he said, “and stay put unless you want to expose your private person to one of those outlaws shooting at us.
    “Outlaws?”
    Fear swept over her. Could Pratt have learned where she was? She bit back the curses she’d been about to let fly. The stage lurched drunkenly, throwing her assailant off balance. Righting himself, he drove his leg between Macky and the seat so that he could stand and jerked the curtain down.
    More gunshots followed.
    Looking up from where she was wedged between the seats, Macky