Free Heartstrings by Rebecca Paisley Page B

the rope pulley and smiled at her.
    Theodosia saw he had no teeth. When he opened his mouth, it looked as if someone had painted a black hole on his face.
    “Nothin’ a’tall to fear,” the other agreed. “My brother and me’ve been workin’ this here ferry fer many a year, and we’ve only lost three passengers and a mule. The men was fightin’, ya see, and fighted theirsefs right into the river. The mule, well, he staggered off on account o’ he was drunk as all git out.”
    Roman noted the alarm in Theodosia’s eyes. “You aren’t fighting, Miss Worth, and you aren’t drunk, so stop being afraid.”
    His command angered her, but his deep, rich voice aroused within her an emotion that had nothing to do with ire. “Fear stems from the feeling of having no control over a specific threat,” she responded, her irritation rising as she felt her cheeks warm and color with what she knew now to be desire. “Most fears are acquired. Indeed, it is my understanding that infants are born with only two fears, that of loud noises and loss of physical support. As they grow older, they are conditioned to feel other fears, such as fear of the dark. I have not acquired a fear of water because I learned to swim at a very early age. Therefore I do not fear water.”
    Roman saw the ferrymen frown in confusion. “She’s from Boston,” he said, as if his statement explained everything.
    “Oh,” they said in unison, as if his statement explained everything.
    “Admit it, Miss Worth,” Roman said. “You’re scared as hell.”
    “I am simply anxious,” she clarified, tightening her hold on the wagon.
    “If you can swim, then you don’t have any reason to be anxious, either,” Roman fenced stubbornly. “The worst that can happen to you right now is falling in and getting wet. Then you can swim to shore while we watch.”
    No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the ferry dipped sharply.
    And the next thing he saw was a shiny brass birdcage flying through the misty air.
    “Well, I reckon we can add a bird to the list o’ passengers we’ve lost,” the toothless ferryman said. “What kind o’ bird was that, ma’am?”
    Theodosia didn’t utter a sound, but one glimpse of her face told Roman that her so-called anxiety had become true gut-wrenching terror. Sighing with profound aggravation, he tossed his hat to one of the ferrymen and kicked off his boots. His gunbelt hit the deck with a loud thud, right before he dove over the side of the ferry.
    The cold water sucked him under. When he broke through the surface, the cage bobbed right before his face.
    Crazed with fear, John the Baptist stuck his beak between the bars and bit his rescuer’s nose.
    “Dammit!” Anger increasing his strength, Roman twisted toward shore, and holding the cage high and using his free arm to propel himself through the rushing water, he arrived at the bank only a few minutes after the ferry.
    Theodosia met him as he staggered out of the river. Quickly, she retrieved the cage and held it level with her eyes. “John the Baptist,” she whispered. “John—”
    “That bastard of a bird is fine!” With the back of his hand, Roman swiped dripping water off his forehead. “He bit me!”
    “Bit you?”
    “Two bits,” the toothless ferryman announced as he sauntered toward his passengers.
    Theodosia frowned at him. “Two bits, sir? Surely you mean two bites.”
    “The bird bit my nose!” Roman blasted.
    “Twice?” Theodosia asked.
    “Once!”
    She looked at the ferryman. “You said two bites, sir, but Mr. Montana has only been bitten once.”
    “ Bits!” Roman yelled. “Two bits! For God’s sake, woman, he wants twenty-five cents, which has nothing to do with the fact that your pain-in-the-ass parrot bit my—”
    “Weren’t my aim to git y’all s’riled,” the ferryman interrupted. “Mighty sorry if that’s what I done. All’s I want is two bits, and I’ll be on my way. Got more passengers waitin’ on the other