Free Dorothy Garlock - [Annie Lash 01] by Wild Sweet Wilderness

hair grew back from a high forehead and fell down over his ears. He looked younger without the hat, almost boyish. A bubble of laughter came up and out of her mouth. It was soft and musical.
    Simon’s eyes devoured her face. “Satisfied?” My God, she was pretty! More than pretty, he thought. She’s spunky, and smart, too. Soft and sparkling as the morning sun.
    “Well! You’re not onion-slick on top. That’s a fact!” She laughed again, a soft trilling sound.
    “I like to here you laugh.”
    She held his hat in both hands. She felt it was some kind of barrier between them. Her face sobered. “I’ve not had much to laugh about lately.”
    “Why was your pa going to let a man like Linc Smith court you?”
    She bristled with indignation. “I got somethin’ to say about that! I’d not let that bush-bottomed, stinkin’ buzzard bait court me!”
    He waited a long time to speak. An eternity went by while his eyes held hers captive. Finally he said quietly, “I’ll court you.”
    Berry felt herself go ice cold. The next instant she was burning hot, as a flash of anger raced through her body. Stunned, and then angered by his matter-of-fact proposal, she jammed his hat against his chest and pushed. “Don’t do me no favors!”
    “What’re you riled about?” There was a puzzled frown on his face and he gazed at the flawless beauty of hers. Her flashing green eyes were lit with the fire of hostility. Goddamn, she was lovely! His heart began to beat with a new rhythm. He felt desire tighten his buckskins. He’d not admitted to himself that he’d had a hunger to be near her, to touch her, since he’d first seen her across the campfire. Her rejection spurred him to say, “Would you rather be courted by Linc Smith?”
    Now she struggled. “I’d not take either of you if you was the only ones in the world walkin’ on two legs! I’ll not take just anything throwed out to me ’cause my pa’s got no more gumption than a drunk hoot owl!” Her breath came in heated spasms. “I aim to do my own choosin’ . . . if I choose at all!”
    “I’m not likin’ to be put in the same sack as Linc Smith.” His mouth tensed and his eyes stared coolly down at her. There was a tight alertness about him now, something primitive and menacing. He was angry and didn’t try to hide it.
    “I never said you was the same cut,” she hissed.
    “Then why’re you all riled up like a cornered cat ’cause I said I’d court you?”
    “It was the way you said it! Like I was some sort of a low-down. Like . . . you was doin’ a favor for a nobody! I’m just as much a somebody as you are, Mr. Simon Witcher, trader ’n’ guide, even if I do have holes in my dress ’n’ in my shoes. It ain’t all on the outside that counts. It’s here, on the inside.” She struck her chest with her fist. “Here, I’m just as much of a somebody as you are, or any fancy woman with gold hairpins in her hair! Ya hear?” Angry tears filled her eyes and she refused to blink them away. “Now . . . let me go or I’ll poke my knife in you!”
    “I never meant it that way. I’ve not been around women enough to know how to talk to ’em. Course you’re a somebody. You’re like findin’ a pretty pelt among a bunch of mangy hides.” His voice was low and caressing. He reached for a curl at the side of her neck and wound it about his finger. “I can’t see you wantin’ to work in your pa’s tavern, neither.”
    “Do you think I’m dosey?” she sputtered. “I’m not working in no tavern! We haven’t figured out yet what we’re gonna do if Pa won’t take up land. We’re hopin’ he’ll get over this crazy notion of a tavern.” Simon continued to hold the curl between his fingers. No man had ever touched her hair before and it was causing a confused, mixed-up feeling inside her.
    Simon’s eyes roamed her face. Strange feelings stirred in him. Had he been too long without a woman? This one was a beauty. She was a picture of flagrant