Free This Cowboy's Heart by Cia Leah Page A

against the
wall and behind his bedroom was a small bath with a sink, shower, and commode.   He didn’t need much.   His Ma and Pa were dead, and his sister had
long ago moved away when she married.   He never saw her much, but did receive letters from her once in a while.
           Jace
finished eating, put his dishes in the sink, then grabbed his bedroll, and
walked out onto the porch.   He’d bed
down in front of the open door so he could hear the woman if she woke.   As he settled in for the night, he whispered
a silent prayer that God help the woman and help him to do what was best for
her.
    ***
           Mia
Dawson woke from a deep sleep.   She hurt
all over and when she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, she winced
before opening her eyes.   It took a few
blinks of her eyelids to focus, and when her vision cleared, she glanced around
at the room.   Where was she?   Had he brought her here?   Her heartbeat accelerated until she raised a
hand to her chest, trying to breathe past the fear that enveloped her.
          She
threw back the quilt covering her and sat up to let her feet rest on the
floor.   Nausea hit her and she gulped to
keep from throwing up.   Inhaling several
deep breaths, she stood and swayed.   The
blow to her head must have given her a concussion, she thought, sitting back
down, when she saw a man standing in the doorway.   She scooted back against the wall, fear racing down her
spine.   She watched as he walked inside
the room, move to the stove, and put on coffee.   He didn’t say anything until he was finished with the task, and
then turned to sit at the table.   He was
tall, about six foot four, she’d say, shirtless, with a washboard stomach and
bulging muscles in his arms.   His jeans
rode low on his hips, with the top button unbuttoned.   His thick black hair was cut short, his eyebrows thick but well
defined for a man, and his eyes were the color of storm clouds on a rainy day.
           “You
okay?” he asked, cutting a piece of something from a pan on the table.   “You hungry?”
           Mia
didn’t utter a word, but just watched him.  
           He
took a bite of something and looked at her again.   “I found you out there on my place.   You’re pretty beat up.   I
tended to your wounds, and then let you sleep.   I wasn’t sure if you would want me to take you to a hospital or go to
the police, but thought it best you decide what you wanted to do.”
           Mia
wet her lips again and winced.   Her lip
was so sore and it burned when she wet them.   She remained quiet, just staring at him.   She watched him get up and pour two cups, set one on the other
side of the table from him, and motion for her to come and get it.   She stayed where she was.
           “I’m
not going to hurt you.   You might feel
better if you get something to drink and eat in you.   If there’s anyplace you want me to take you, just tell me and I
will.”
           Mia
felt her heartbeat slow.   Did she dare
trust this man?   God, after her uncle’s
abuse and beatings, she never wanted to trust another man.   Yet, she would like some coffee.   No food because her stomach couldn’t handle
that right now.   Her fear held her in
place as they both stared at each other.   When he got up and lifted the coffee cup and advanced towards her, she
pressed against the wall.   She couldn’t
stop the trembling that seized her.
           “I’m
really not going to hurt you,” he said, squatting down by the bed, and holding
the cup out to her.   I put some cream
and sugar in it for you.”
           Mia
decided that if this man were going to harm her, he’d have done it by now.   She reached out and carefully took the cup
from him.   She cradled it in both hands,
soaking up the warmth.   “Thank you,” she
whispered and took a sip, wincing again when the hot liquid touched her lips.
           “You
have a nasty