The Texan's Bride Read Online Free PDF

half her hair was plucked from her scalp.
    “Kincaid,” she cursed. “This is all your fault!”
     
    BRANCH HAD four rabbits to his credit this morning, but that wasn’t near enough to satisfy Colonel Kate back at the inn. Honestly, if William Travis had been blessed with Katie Starr at the Alamo, Santa Anna would never have breached the walls. A more organizing, demanding, persnickety woman he’d yet to meet. She had every male in the place dancing to her tune—and half of them didn’t even realize it.
    “Well, she’s fixin’ to learn a brand new jig,” he declared. As much as he wanted this job, he’d about taken all he was going to from the tiny tyrant.
    Never had he been so pleased to see dawn break clear as he had been this morning, although after three days of constant harassment, he’d probably have gone hunting in a blizzard. To top it all off, she’d met him in the barn with that… list. As if he’d actually hunt according to her whims. “She’ll cook what I bring back, and if she doesn’t like it, she can suck a green persimmon,” he grumbled.
    He tugged in his line and checked his bait. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had the chance to fish, and by damn, he wasn’t going to ruin this pleasure thinking about Katie Starr. The worm-baited hook landed with a plop in the middle of the gently flowing Angelina River.
    Of course, he thought, propping one boot against a bleached hunk of limestone, pleasure didn’t necessarily preclude that saucy short-stuff. She’d felt mighty nice beneath him. Branch shook his head and pulled a straw from a dried-up clump of wildflowers. He placed one end between his teeth and snickered as he remembered just how he’d fired her fury. He mused, “I guess I might’ve asked for a bit of the grief she’d been giving me, after all.”
    The late-morning peace was shattered when the biggest bass Branch had ever hooked exploded from the water.
    At the same time, a female scream blew through the trees from somewhere behind him. His cane pole bent toward the river. The caterwaul sent shivers up his spine.
    “Help!”
    “Damn.” He dropped the pole and grabbed his gun. “This had better be good,” he muttered, racing through the woods toward the commotion. He stopped when he saw the baby quilt lying on the path. He couldn’t see much of Katie, but there was no missing the clamor she made. He grinned. “I’m shocked, Mrs. Starr. I wouldn’t have believed a lady like you would have knowledge of words like those.”
    She lay on her back in the middle of a large clump of thorny vine. Blackberry cane wrapped her from head to foot, completely entrapping her with its clinging briar.
    At the sound of his voice, she froze.
    “Mrs. Starr,” Branch observed, unable to keep the humor from his voice, “you seem to be in a bit of a tangle.”
    She kept quiet for at least a full minute. A sigh preceded her words. “Mr. Kincaid, as much as it pains me, I must request your assistance.”
    “What are you saying, Sprite, the briar is thornier than the Branch?” He burst into laughter. This was almost worth losing that black bass.
    He could just see over the top of the bramble. It’d be a task to comb through them or even cut a path with his bowie knife. “How in the hell did you manage to wind up in the center of a blackberry patch? If I’m not mistaken, blackberry season’s long gone.”
    Katie didn’t answer.
    What was it about this woman that gave him such pure pleasure to tease? Obviously, she’d fallen from the tree; a low-hanging limb stretched above her. He eyed the red oak. Probably be easier to lift her out of there than to cut her out, he thought. The tree looked sturdy enough. Of course, he did outweigh her by at least a hundred pounds.
    “Mr. Kincaid, are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to help me?”
    “Keep it up, lady, and I’ll go back to my other fish.”
    Branch didn’t like the idea of thrashing through the thorns to