Free The Maverick's Bride by Catherine Palmer Page B

you mustn’t do anything.” Emma knotted her fingers. “Two years ago, I heard the voice of God and I knewwhat I was meant to do with my life. My father disapproves. He’s trying to control my wayward behavior.”
    “By hitting you? What do you want to do that’s so awful—be a nurse?”
    “I’m already a nurse. I’ve completed my training at St. Thomas’s Hospital and now I’ve come to Africa.” The words came out in a rush. “I must find a hospital here. Do you know of any?”
    “There’s a camp hospital with the railway. They’ve got a couple of doctors—Dr. McCulloch, and another one. Dr. Brock, I think. I’m sure they’d welcome your help.”
    “It can’t be with the railway. It must be a place where my father has no influence. What about a mission hospital?”
    “Nothing near the rail stations. Farther into the interior, I think.” Adam took a deep breath before continuing. “That’s what I need to talk to you about, Emma. I need a nurse for my friend. Please come to my ranch and help me out.”
    “Impossible.”
    “If you’ll do it, I’ll take you to the interior. After you look in on my friend, we’ll find a mission hospital where you can be a nurse.”
    “If I go away with you, Mr. King, my father will know where I am. He’ll come after me. I can’t risk it. I must go straight to the hospital and seek sanctuary. Then—when my father and sister have returned to England—I’ll gladly go and look after your friend.”
    “No, it—” Adam looked away, his jaw clenched. “I think my friend is dying.”
    “Then you must go to the railway hospital. Let the doctors do what they can.”
    “I’ve had trouble with the railway. With one man in particular.”
    “Miss Pickering?” Nicholas Bond’s voice echoed through the railcar. Emma sat up and Adam grabbed her hand, his strong fingers weaving through hers.
    “Over here, Bond,” he called.
    Nicholas squinted in the dusk. “King, is that you? Is Miss Pickering there?”
    “Yes, Mr. Bond, I’m here,” Emma spoke up. “While walking, I crossed paths with Mr. King. How odd you should find us here, for we were just speaking about the railway.”
    Nicholas picked his way down the crate-littered aisle. “Your father is awake, Miss Pickering. He is asking for you.”
    “But you won’t tell him what she’s been doing.” With a final squeeze of her hand, Adam jumped down from the crate and lifted Emma to the floor. “If you’re half as smart as a bunkhouse rat, you’ll keep your mouth shut.”
    “Or?” Nicholas halted before Adam.
    “Let me tell you something, Bond.” Adam lowered his voice. “I’m not going to interfere between the lady and her father. But I won’t hesitate to interfere with you if you give me half a reason.”
    “Do you threaten me, King? You’ve seen what I can do when I’m crossed.”
    “I’ve seen your honorable way of handling things, you yellow-bellied—”
    Nicholas’s fist shot out and caught Adam on the jaw. The rancher’s head snapped back, sending his black hat to the floor. Adam righted himself and set Emma to one side. Stumbling against Adam’s guitar, she saw Nicholas swing again. Adam blocked the blow with one arm while his other fist found its mark in his opponent’s abdomen.
    Nicholas doubled over, and Emma cried out, “Stop it at once, both of you!”
    But the Englishman’s face was a mask of fury in the dim light as he charged at Adam. Emma grabbed the guitar and tried to shove it between them. Nicholas ducked and the instrument slammed into a barrel with a discordant crack. Adam seized the momentary distraction to step backward and hoist himself onto a crate.
    “Mr. Bond, please!” Emma watched in dismay as the two men faced off. None of the three in the railcar could afford her father’s disapproval. She grasped Nicholas’s arm. “Truly, sir, you must stop this nonsense at once.”
    He clenched his fist, struggling to restrain himself. “This is not over, King. I