The Stafford Collection, Historical Western Romances Read Online Free PDF Page A

raised an eyebrow, surprised that he would stoop so low as to ask her for help.   Sabrina sighed as she looked up at his imploring face.  She almost smiled. Surely he couldn’t feel helpless, especially with those colts strapped to his waist.  Her eyes inadvertently darted to the area between the colts and she felt her face turning red as she looked away.
    "Thought you wanted things done your way, ” she said, crossing her arms in front of her defiantly.
    Brock frowned.  "Well, I guess my way wasn't such a good idea after all."
    "Oh, all right!  But you’re buying me lunch," Sabrina said in mock exasperation.
    Brock chuckled. "Deal, I don't suppose you can eat that much, ” he said, eyeing her small frame.  They headed back up to the boardwalk to begin their task.
    Sabrina stumbled along the street heading towards the Sheriff's office. She was having a hard time trying to keep up with Brock’s long stride. Frustrated she stopped abruptly and started strolling along at a leisurely pace. Why the heck was she in a hurry to clean up his mess, anyway? And why the heck did she volunteer for the job twice? I must be getting dense, she thought. See? I'm even talking to myself now.
    She passed a shop and stopped suddenly, noticing a new blue silk dress in the window. She had never liked wearing dresses and had only done so under threat or force, but this dress was a beauty. She could imagine herself in it at a grand ball dancing with a tall dark handsome man who looked an awful lot like Brock. In fact, she could see Brock’s face in front of her looking at her strangely. She realized that she was seeing his reflection on the glass in front of her and turned around quickly, scowling at him. "What?" she said gruffly, lowering her voice. She could feel her face reddening and she looked away quickly, heading towards the office at a medium pace. Brock followed her, walking slowly.
    "I was afraid you got lost."
    "Well, this isn't a cattle drive! I don't walk as fast as you do. Why should I hurry to help clean up your mess anyway?" She mumbled the last part to herself but he heard anyhow.
    "Didn't look like you were walking at all. Looked like you were gawking at a dress. Is there a girl you’re sweet on?" Brock asked, smiling.
    "One more word and I'll be walking the other way," Sabrina retorted and Brock hid a grin. He was used to people respecting him, or at least fearing him, but this boy did neither. Will seemed to be quite confident in his abilities, which was very rare in a boy his age. 'Course a kid had to grow up fast out here to survive. Brock estimated him to be about thirteen or fourteen years old since it didn’t appear that he needed to shave. But he seemed so much more mature.
    The pair arrived outside the office and Sabrina waited impatiently while Brock unlocked the door. He cringed as he opened it slowly. Sabrina's eyes widened and her mouth fell open at the devastation she saw before her.
    "What have you done? I left you alone for ten minutes!"  Her boots squished on the muddy floor as she looked over the room. Mud was splattered everywhere and the once dirty curtains were in a filth-sodden pile next to the overturned bucket.
    "I had a little accident," Brock explained.
    Sabrina turned on him, her voice rising with every word. "An accident? The fall of Rome was an accident! This is a disaster! It's going to take days to clean this up." 
    "I'd be willing to pay you, ” Brock offered hopefully, still unsure why he was begging this boy to help him or why he really wanted him to say yes.
    "No thanks, I already have a job!”  Sabrina sighed at the look of desperation on his face. She covered her face with her hands and groaned. She could not pass over an animal in need, even if it was human. “Oh, all right! Let's just get started? You wash the windows inside and out and I guess I'll start on the quagmire."  She gave Brock a look, daring him to say anything. He just shrugged as he picked up the bucket to get