HisBootsUnderHerBed Read Free Page A

them neatly under her bed. He never batted a single one of those long eyelashes throughout the whole process.
    For a long moment she stood looking down at him. He sure was handsome. And even better—he didn’t stink. That put him high on the totem pole, to her way of thinking.
    He’s just another drifter passing through, Rory, so don’t get your hopes up. Just the same, he seemed like a nice-enough fella.
    Rory picked up one of the pillows and grabbed the comforter from the foot of the bed, then blew out the lamp and went into her father’s room, where the man who’d claimed he’d get no sleep was snoring away. She spread the comforter on the floor and took off her shoes.
    For a long while she lay awake thinking about how easily Garth Fraser’s life might have changed, or even ended, if Bates and Skull had succeeded with their foul deed.
    “You’re a lucky man, Garth Fraser,” she murmured, “and you owe me a big favor.”
    But whether he’d ever return the favor or not, Rory was glad she’d intervened. It was satisfying to know she had followed her conscience rather than take the easier and safer way out.
     
    Garth awoke the next morning and lay drowsily assembling the events of the previous night in his mind. As his head began to clear, the pieces of the puzzle took shape: leaving the Grotto, the attack, and his rescue by the woman. He’d had his fair share of close calls during the war, but shanghaied! God forbid. He’d never had a desire to sail a boat, much less go to sea for an extended time. The sea was more to his brother Jed’s liking. During the war Jed had sailed on a privateer, running much-needed supplies through the Yankee ships blockading the Southern ports.
    Garth had made a few necessary trips on the James River on a paddleboat or barge, but only when he couldn’t persuade one of his brothers to do it for him. Horseback was his love. He and his horse Boots got along just fine.
    He sat up in bed with an urgent call from Nature to relieve himself of all that whiskey he’d drunk last night. Seeing no chamber pot, he unlocked the door and scanned the hallway, then hurried to the door marked PRIVY .
    “Good morning,” Rory greeted when he returned to the room. She continued to plump up the pillow on the bed.
    “Good morning.”
    Why couldn’t he remember making love to her? They must have shared her bed last night, but he hated to think he’d slept through it and missed the best opportunity he could ever hope for.
    She sure was a pretty sight. Her blond hair was swept up to the top of her head and her face was scrubbed clean of the makeup she wore in the Grotto. Her plain homespun blue gown with a white collar added brightness to those blue eyes of hers. He’d woken up in the bed of a pretty woman more times than he could remember, but this one had to be about the best-looking one yet. He sat down on the edge of the bed and put on his boots.
    “How are you feeling this morning?” she asked.
    “Name’s Garth Fraser, ma’am,” he said.
    “Yes, I know. Mine’s Rory O’Grady.”
    He smiled at her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss O’Grady. I’m beholden to you.”
    “That was some beating you took last night.”
    “Guess I’ll survive. The message just hasn’t reached my head yet.”
    Garth picked up his gun belt and strapped it on. “What did they hit me with?”
    “It looked like a blackjack. I think all that whiskey you drank last night might be contributing to your misery, too, Mr. Fraser.”
    He winked at her. “You may be right. Call me Garth, Miss Rory O’Grady.”
    She felt a tug at her heart at the way his tongue curled around her name, and she smiled at him. He was an easy man to like. A real charmer, all right.
    “So why did you do it, Miss O’Grady? You could have been hurt.”
    “I saw them following you and figured they were up to no good.”
    “Do you know anything about them?”
    “About as much as you do. The big one’s Bates and the other one is