The Bride Wore Spurs (The Inconvenient Bride Series, Book 1) Read Online Free
Author: Sharon Ihle
said, "go to the devil." That, along with the feral gleam in his eyes insinuating that he might just be the devil, was enough to convince her that he could be the heathen Kate suggested he was.
Lacey shivered at the prospect of calling such a man, "husband," but she vowed not to turn back now. "I-I don't care about Mr. Winterhawke's heritage. I t-think he looks j-just... fine. If he'll be agreeing to marry the likes of me, then I'm staying."
Kate shot her a look of both anxiety and relief, as if she were worried about Lacey, but too eager to be rid of her to argue the point further. "If yer sure ye'll not consider returning to Ireland, lass, I'll do what I can to see that ye and... that the pair of ye are wed."
Across the room and in tones much louder than the womenfolk, the men were still slinging verbal mud at one another. Smarting from his protégé's latest accusation—that maybe he'd gone numb north of his ears—Caleb muttered under his breath, "Well just maybe you've gone blind as a post hole! Have you snuck a good peek at that gal?"
Grumbling to himself, Hawke said, "Isn't much to see of her all wrapped up in that cape the way she is, but I don't care if she's the best looking thing since the spring thaw. I don't want or need a wife!"
"Cape's off," Caleb said in a low whisper. "Take a look at her, have a gander at that nice skin. I'll bet that gal's face is softer than the inside of a school marm's thigh."
"You think so?" Hawke said sarcastically. "I wouldn't know that kind of soft, now would I."
Caleb ignored the reference to the fact that no self-respecting white woman would allow a half-breed to touch her, and went on with his argument. "Just take a look at the gal, damn it. A good look—she's a beauty, Hawke, a real beauty. I swear, if'n I hadn't already made a pledge to Kate, I'd go after that young one myself."
Because Caleb was so adamant, Hawke grudgingly cast a disinterested eye in Miss O'Carroll's direction. What he saw surprised him with its impact, capturing him as surely as he'd captured Phantom, the renegade mustang stallion who now serviced the mares at Winterhawke Ranch. It wasn't just the delicate features he'd noticed earlier beneath the hood of her cape, but the way her hair and porcelain skin set them off. Hawke had never seen a woman with hair the color of a new penny, or skin so smooth and pale. She wasn't beautiful exactly, but stunning and alluring, the kind of woman who made a man stare at her with an almost morbid fascination. Hawke's mind told him to look away from her, that he was making a fool of himself, but for some reason, he couldn't react with his usual swiftness.
"Not so bad after all, eh?" said Caleb, delighted by his friend's response.
Finally able to look away from the young woman, Hawke furrowed his brow. "Yes, she really is very handsome, which makes me wonder—why would a good-looking white woman like that agree to marry a half-breed like me? What do you suppose is wrong with her?"
As Caleb mulled this over, Kate returned. "I hope I'm not interrupting ye, but I thought I'd let ye know that Miss O'Carroll has agreed to uphold her end of the bargain to marry Mr. Winterhawke. I assume that he's in agreement as well?"
Hawke turned on her. "You may as well assume that you never left Ireland, in that case, because—"
"Hold up a minute," said Caleb, cutting him off. "You know I've never called any markers in on you before, Hawke, and I didn't cause I never really figured that you owed me for all I done for you. I done what I done cause I like you and wanted what's best for you. Still do." He leaned back against the arm of the couch, resting his aching back, and leveled his friend with his gaze. "I'm calling in a marker now. I'm asking you to do this one thing for me; give the gal a chance. Give her time to prove herself to you, say till the preacher comes to marry me and Kate."
Hawke groaned. How could Caleb have put him on such a spot? There was no way in hell that
Lacey shivered at the prospect of calling such a man, "husband," but she vowed not to turn back now. "I-I don't care about Mr. Winterhawke's heritage. I t-think he looks j-just... fine. If he'll be agreeing to marry the likes of me, then I'm staying."
Kate shot her a look of both anxiety and relief, as if she were worried about Lacey, but too eager to be rid of her to argue the point further. "If yer sure ye'll not consider returning to Ireland, lass, I'll do what I can to see that ye and... that the pair of ye are wed."
Across the room and in tones much louder than the womenfolk, the men were still slinging verbal mud at one another. Smarting from his protégé's latest accusation—that maybe he'd gone numb north of his ears—Caleb muttered under his breath, "Well just maybe you've gone blind as a post hole! Have you snuck a good peek at that gal?"
Grumbling to himself, Hawke said, "Isn't much to see of her all wrapped up in that cape the way she is, but I don't care if she's the best looking thing since the spring thaw. I don't want or need a wife!"
"Cape's off," Caleb said in a low whisper. "Take a look at her, have a gander at that nice skin. I'll bet that gal's face is softer than the inside of a school marm's thigh."
"You think so?" Hawke said sarcastically. "I wouldn't know that kind of soft, now would I."
Caleb ignored the reference to the fact that no self-respecting white woman would allow a half-breed to touch her, and went on with his argument. "Just take a look at the gal, damn it. A good look—she's a beauty, Hawke, a real beauty. I swear, if'n I hadn't already made a pledge to Kate, I'd go after that young one myself."
Because Caleb was so adamant, Hawke grudgingly cast a disinterested eye in Miss O'Carroll's direction. What he saw surprised him with its impact, capturing him as surely as he'd captured Phantom, the renegade mustang stallion who now serviced the mares at Winterhawke Ranch. It wasn't just the delicate features he'd noticed earlier beneath the hood of her cape, but the way her hair and porcelain skin set them off. Hawke had never seen a woman with hair the color of a new penny, or skin so smooth and pale. She wasn't beautiful exactly, but stunning and alluring, the kind of woman who made a man stare at her with an almost morbid fascination. Hawke's mind told him to look away from her, that he was making a fool of himself, but for some reason, he couldn't react with his usual swiftness.
"Not so bad after all, eh?" said Caleb, delighted by his friend's response.
Finally able to look away from the young woman, Hawke furrowed his brow. "Yes, she really is very handsome, which makes me wonder—why would a good-looking white woman like that agree to marry a half-breed like me? What do you suppose is wrong with her?"
As Caleb mulled this over, Kate returned. "I hope I'm not interrupting ye, but I thought I'd let ye know that Miss O'Carroll has agreed to uphold her end of the bargain to marry Mr. Winterhawke. I assume that he's in agreement as well?"
Hawke turned on her. "You may as well assume that you never left Ireland, in that case, because—"
"Hold up a minute," said Caleb, cutting him off. "You know I've never called any markers in on you before, Hawke, and I didn't cause I never really figured that you owed me for all I done for you. I done what I done cause I like you and wanted what's best for you. Still do." He leaned back against the arm of the couch, resting his aching back, and leveled his friend with his gaze. "I'm calling in a marker now. I'm asking you to do this one thing for me; give the gal a chance. Give her time to prove herself to you, say till the preacher comes to marry me and Kate."
Hawke groaned. How could Caleb have put him on such a spot? There was no way in hell that
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