Harris Channing Read Online Free Page B

gargoyle."
    She blinked back her tears.
"Alfred?" Springing to her feet, she rushed toward him and clumsily
took hold of his collar. "Where is he? Is he dead?"
    David gazed down at her, his
irritation easing. "No, he's in the barn, eating grain with my horse.
Never saw a dog eat grain like that. Sure, a little here and there…"
    She grabbed her coat, dropping it
and cursing her injured hands. "That sounds like my dog, Alfred. Pa said
he would eat a tin can if there was nothing else to eat."
    Before she could reach her coat,
David grabbed it out from under her outstretched hand. "You're crazy if
you think I'm letting you go out there."
    "You can't keep me here! I
need to see Alfred. He's a link, the only link I have to my family."
Hysteria was taking control. Trapped by the weather, trapped by circumstance.
Trapped! Trapped! Trapped! She balled up her fist, poised to strike. "Get
out of my way or I will punch you."
    His chuckle, his condescending
expression had her aiming for his chin. Ducking, he easily dodged her sloppy
blow and grabbed her around the middle, forcing her backward. She stumbled and
the pair landed forcefully on the bed. He lay atop her, his long, heavy form
pressing her into the straw mattress.
    His countenance changed, the anger
dissolving, his features softening and for the first time she caught a glimmer
of the man beneath the beard. Was it possible that he was handsome? "I aim
to keep you safe, Bobbie."
    He reached up with his gloved hand
and pushed the hair from her wounded forehead. The feel of him atop her, the
power of his gaze and her heart sputtered into a strange new awareness. An
unnatural heat spread through her groin and an ache settled low in her belly at
the pressure of his hard thigh thrust between her legs. Warm breath tickled her
flesh and had her gasping for air. What was he doing to her?
    She wet her lips as the smell of
whiskey and freshly fallen snow encased them. And even though she knew she
should push him away, she didn't. She lay there, suppliant beneath him. Why was
it she longed for this creature to kiss her? Was her need to feel the comfort
of another human being so strong?
    "You're a beautiful woman,
Bobbie," he said, his voice raspy. "I don't want you here."
    His unexpected words stung and her
pride surged. "I don't want to be here. I want to be anywhere but
here," she spat and shoved at him. "Now, get off me and let me see my
dog."
    He pushed himself up, his hands on
either side of her face as he continued to stare. "You misunderstand. It's
just that you make me remember things I want to forget."
    She stopped her struggle and looked
up at him, the pain in his eyes tangible. His loss something she understood,
something they shared. But what haunted him? The desire to know had her
overstepping boundaries she knew she oughtn't. She raked her fingers through
her tangled hair and watched him, his lips a frown, his brow furrowed, anger
and sorrow converging over his countenance and filling her with worry. He was
damaged, so very hurt, his spirit all but broken.
    "I'm sorry, David. Who has
hurt you so deeply?"
    His eyes grew cold, his gaze hard.
"That's none of your business, Roberta."
    "But David, I--"
    "Suffice it to say she was my
life, my reason for living and I don’t want to share. Understand? She's
mine." He stumbled back, continuing to glower at her.
    "David, please." She sat
up, sorry that she had pressed him so hard. Jumping to her feet, she reached
for him, but he pulled back and her hand sped past him.
    "Stop! I want no parts of you,
don't you understand? I'm not fit to be anything to anyone."
    Her heart clenched at his rejection
and she fought back her tears. "We both need a friend. Be my friend, I
have no expectations beyond that."
    He shook his head and stumbled
toward the door. "I can't be your friend. You've got to let go of that
ridiculous notion."
    Against the gust of wind from the
open door, she shouted after him. "It's not ridiculous. You're a good man.
I've