Divine Deception Read Free

child, and you’ll keep this miserable farm. But if you ever mention this again, you will die…by my own hand.”
    Donavon turned to Fallon, the hem of his hood trembling with his obvious fury. “Miss Ashby, gather whatever possessions you have, and come with me. Know that I’m not convinced of your innocence in this farce. But it would be inhumane to leave you here with this animal.”
    Fallon stood stunned. Had she heard him correctly? He meant to marry her?
    “ Marry her, Donavon,” Charles reminded, “before the week’s over.”
    Trader Donavon took Fallon roughly by the shoulders. Turning her to face away from him, he wrapped her thin quilt tightly around her and opened the cabin door. “Ashby, I may be frightening in my own right, but you’re the monster here,” he growled. Swiftly, he scooped Fallon up in his arms, carrying her out of the cabin and into the still-raging storm.
    “ Before the week’s over, Donavon!” Charles Ashby called after him. “Before the week’s over, or I’ll tell the world what ya really are and see the girl off to work in the saloon!”
    Trader Donavon strode determinedly to the barn. No doubt he had sheltered his horse there the night before. Once inside the barn, he dropped Fallon feetfirst to the ground and released her.
    “ Tell me where your belongings are, and I’ll return for them now. Not clothing or any such trivial possessions—you won’t need these old rags he gives you—but anything of value to you,” he said.
    Fallon was still stunned, awed in unbelieving shock, but she managed an answer of sorts. “My mother and father’s photograph…in…in the kitchen. That’s all,” she stammered.
    The hood nodded, and the man turned toward the house. Moments later, he returned with the photograph clutched tightly in one gloved hand. Without speaking, he handed it to her and effortlessly lifted her onto his horse. Mounting behind her, he clicked his tongue, and the horse bolted out of the barn.
    As they rode past the house, Charles, standing in the open doorway, once again snarled, “Within the week, Donavon.”
    Donavon halted his horse. “You push me too far, Ashby. I do this because I won’t see the child here with the likes of you any longer! Do not make to threaten me.” He spurred his mount, and it bolted into the frigid cold of Mother Nature’s winter wrath.
    
    The blowing snow and frost stung Fallon’s tender face. The cold bit at her through her thin dress and quilt, forcing her thoughts from her dazed state. The events that had just occurred had been brief and confusing. Yet she knew they certainly had taken place, for she now sat astride a magnificent black stallion, Trader Donavon holding her securely with one arm, clutching the reins in his other hand. The horse stumbled, and Fallon gasped, sure the animal would lose his footing in the deep snow.
    “ Whoa, Brigadier. Slow now,” Trader Donavon mumbled calmly to the horse.
    Fallon looked down to find her own hands fiercely gripping his massive forearm. Her mind tried to tell her tightening fingers to relax and release their grip on him, but the freezing appendages would not obey.
    What does he intend to do with me ? she wondered. She harbored no ridiculous hope he actually intended to keep his word and marry her. But what then? Perhaps he would employ her at his residence in some manner. She took comfort in the thought. No doubt his home would be a warm and solid shelter from the elements.
    “ We’re nearly there, Miss Ashby. I apologize for the cold,” his voice boomed suddenly, causing her to jump. She felt him tighten his hold on her, pulling her back against his own body. “Pull the cloak around you as well,” he instructed.
    The warmth of his mammoth body stung her own slight and freezing one. She reached out, taking the sides of his heavy cape and closing it in front of her. It was very protective. She began to shiver uncontrollably as the warmth of the cloak and his body began to