Free Desperate Hearts by Alexis Harrington Page A

her sling didn’t
conceal her chest very well. Instantly, the memory of her smooth
breasts and small waist sprang to his mind.
    When he realized he was staring, he forced
himself to look away. He knew that he should have nothing to do
with this female—so why did she crowd his thoughts to the point of
distraction? A naked woman was nothing new to him, but he thought
about this one and the beauty she hid under her clothes a lot more
than he wanted to.
    “ What are you saying, that
he should go on about his life as if he’s done nothing?” she
demanded. “He murdered Hank. And all the times he let my father
down—quitting school, gambling, getting drunk, stealing money—all
those times he pushed me into corners and grabbed at me and—and—”
She choked and a red stain crept over her face. She turned her head
away and rain dripped from the brim of her hat. “Are you saying
none of that matters?”
    Jace glanced at her sharply, but she stared
straight ahead and refused to meet his eyes. “No, I’m not saying
that,” he replied.
    She’d let slip another fragment of the
information he knew she was keeping back. Maybe there was a reason
that “Kyle” was so convincing; the role might not be new for her.
Maybe Hardesty was guilty of more than killing Hank and taking her
ranch. He felt a surge of anger boil up in him. The more he heard
about the man, the more he disliked him.
    “ This isn’t the first time
you’ve dressed as a boy, is it?”
    “ That’s none of your damned
business,” she retorted with a harder edge. Her turquoise eyes
glinted like glass. “I don’t have to explain myself.”
    Jesus, but she was prickly. She had a chip
on her shoulder the size of an anvil and she was always daring him
to push it off. He’d never known a woman so exasperating. Or so
challenging.
    He tried again, searching for words that
didn’t feel so awkward to speak aloud. “I’m just saying that hate
can eat a person up, until sometimes there’s nothing left. When
Hardesty is locked away, you’ll still have to live your life.” He’d
heard this same warning a year ago. He hadn’t listened, either.
    “ I ain’t about to start
lovin’ my enemy, so that sermon would be wasted on me,” she said,
lapsing fully into Kyle’s voice before falling silent. The way she
surrounded herself with the personality sent a shiver down Jace’s
back. She used it like a spiny shield to hold the world at bay. How
had Hank managed to find the woman behind it?
    As the miles passed and she maintained her
silence, Jace noticed that she was really beginning to look poorly.
The blood seemed to fade from her face, as if her fiery hair had
pulled out all the color. She hadn’t complained about her arm, but
he knew it must hurt. Hell, his own shoulder still ached in rainy
weather like this, and nearly a year had gone by since he was shot.
Plus he’d had a doctor to see to him and a place to rest until he
could get back on his feet. A spark of empathy stirred in him;
she’d had only some makeshift medicine on the run, and was spending
her days in her saddle. Maybe old Doc Sherwood could look at her
when they reached Misfortune.
    Travis’s wife, Chloe, might be able to help
her find some decent clothes so she could feel like a woman for a
change. At least while they were in Misfortune. He cast a sidelong
glance at her and caught himself wondering what she’d look like if
she were cleaned up and her true prettiness allowed to shine
through.
    Nope, nope—just stop right there, he told
himself irritably. He felt a grudging respect for her, and that was
enough. This was just business. She was Hank Bailey’s widow, a wild
little hellion who’d hired him to do a job. He’d collect two
hundred and fifty dollars—if he was lucky. He still wasn’t
convinced any money existed.
    Finding a dry place to camp that evening
proved difficult, but by the time sunset gave a final blaze to the
horizon, Jace had shot a rabbit for dinner, and she had