Bound by Honor

Bound by Honor Read Free

Book: Bound by Honor Read Free
Author: Donna Clayton
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary
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Fences spanned as far as she could see, and more horses grazed in one of several enclosed meadows. She'd seen enough western movies to identify those horses. Gage Dalton bred pintos. She called, "Hello!"
    He stepped into her view, stopping in the open double doors of the stable. Shirtless, he clasped a metal rake in one hand.
    Her eyes cruised down the length of him. Sunlight gleamed against his bronze chest. Abdominal muscles rippled all the way down to the worn blue jeans that rode low on his trim waist and hugged his thighs. She dragged her gaze back up to his face. Those black eyes homed in on her, making her feel as if the very air around her had constricted, liven though he must have been nearly fifty yards away, she could sense the same tense displeasure pulsing from him as she'd felt the terrible, stormy day when they'd first met. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting a visit or, nor was he happy to see one.
    The sight of him impelled her to turn tail 11ul run. But thoughts of little Lily whispered through her mind, prompting Jenna lo stand her ground. Her motive for being here was all-im portant. Even the formidable G age Dalton couldn't keep her from getting what she wanted.
    Well, he could. But she planned to do everything in her power to see that he didn't.
    Ignoring his unwelcoming countenance, Jenna trudged toward him. She hoped her cheery smile hid the emotions warring inside her.
    The closer her steps brought her to him, the heavier her doubt about his help grew.
    A soft summer breeze fluttered the ends of his long hair.
    "Hello, there." She was pleased that her greeting came out so smoothly. But then the stammering started. "I — I was a little wet and disheveled w-when we last m-met . . . and it's been weeks ago . . . so . . . well ... I don't know if you remember me, but —"
    "Jenna Butler."
    Her shoulders relaxed as relief soothed the anxiety that provoked the awkward song and dance she'd just performed. Without thought, she softened her tone to nearly a whisper and murmured, "Oh, good. You do remember."
    The seconds ticking by felt like eons as the warm sunshine beat down on her head and shoulders. Finally, he shifted his grip on the wooden pole, planting the rake's prongs into the ground. The impatience in the gesture had her nervousness sprouting to life all over again.
    Jenna had known the task at hand was going to be tough, but she hadn't realized just how tough. Now that she was face-to-face with Gage Dalton and about to ask an awesome favor . . . why, she couldn't remember a time when she'd felt more ill at ease.
    "H-how are you?" she blurted. "You hit your head during the accident, I remember."
    "I'm alive."
    She couldn't read much from his deadpan expression. Feeling the need to infuse some amiability between them, she chuckled. "That's good. Sure beats the alternative."
    Her humor seemed lost on him.
    Grasping for something more to break the ice, she looked around her, commenting, "You've got a nice place here."
    "I like it."
    So he wasn't much of a talker. She should have guessed as much, judging from what she'd learned of him. But it sure would be nice if she didn't have to work so hard.
    She had to warm things up a little before br oaching the favor she needed from him. If she just blurted out her question, cold turkey he'd think she was insane.
    Jenna, my girl, a voice in her head groaned silently, you are insane.
    She tried again. "The horses are beautiful." Glancing over at the animals in the pen, she added, "I've never spent much time around horses, but I know those are pintos from the old cowboy movies I watched as a kid. They sure are majestic-looking creatures. Proud. Untouchable. They might be enclosed, but they sure do look wild."
    As if on cue, one of the horses snorted and clawed at the dusty ground with his hoof.
    "They're tame," he assured her. "What you see is attitude. If a horse is broken to the point that it's docile, it's no better than a pack mule. My horses are intelligent and

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