The Bargain Read Free Page A

beam that held up the smallish roof. Gareth needed to calm his thoughts. His notion to pretend he wasn't affected by her refusal of his proposal hadn't gone so well. Yes, he burned inside from her rejection as he had last night.  
    Any one other than that stubborn American would understand the honor he bestowed upon her. Any one else would be appreciative, and respond in kind.  
    But not Precious. She didn't give a whit, and that was one of the reasons he cared so much for her. That's why he…
    Gareth sucked in a breath, but the air must've sputtered out of his pierced chest. The gaping hole to his vanity held nothing inside. Good thing he was as stubborn as Precious. Yes, far too stubborn to admit painstakingly obvious things.  
    He shook his head, clearing it of Precious and the fearful look in her eyes. Time to be about the mission, something he had a better chance to control. He pounded off the portico and started down the road to Dennis's shop and the accompanying stables.
    Funny, if she'd said yes last night or even now to marrying, he'd be hauling her down to Dennis's with the family ring. They'd be married in minutes just as if they'd eloped to Gretna Green in England.  
    He sighed. It wasn't to be. The woman who just kissed his cheek, who clutched his arm and his rapier like it was a rope keeping her from drifting away, didn't need him.  
    Stubborn girl. If she'd said yes, at least he'd know she'd be protected if he died during this hunt for the missing Xhosa chief. No, she had to take that notion from him, too.  
    He almost looked back at the solid door of his whitewashed house as thoughts of the stubborn, foolhardy, lovely woman continued to press. "Well, I better return in one piece."
    Footsteps pattered behind. He spun around hoping to see Precious there, hoping she'd come to her senses.  
    She hadn't. It was just Mr. Grossling, the war department officer.
    A thousand pounds of disappointment crushed his innards, but Gareth strengthened his voice. "Grossling, are you looking for me?"
    The man pulled a pistol from his pocket.
    Before he could aim it, Gareth drew his rapier and forced the tip at the fool's neck. "What are you doing?"
    Grossling's Adam's apple vibrated, shaking the rapier, causing it to nick his weak flesh leaving red marks. The laggard cursed then said, "Easy captain. Let's lower our weapons."
    Gareth didn't budge. In fact, he wished for the chance to cut something into shreds, just to feel fully in control. Yet, how would it look for the leader of Port Elizabeth to kill a denizen on its first street? He eased the pressure back on the sharpened iron but didn't withdraw his rapier. "Why don't you go first, and then I'll follow."
    Grossling kept his gaze level, but lowered the gun and shoved the muzzle into his coat pocket. "I'm not trying to kill you, but I'll be ready when it's time to kill those Xhosa. You can count on me to help murder the heathens."
    Putting his rapier back into his sash, he shook his head. "No. You will return to filling out your forms. The last thing I need is a trigger happy warrior. And when I say so, you will protect the colonists. That is your mission before you think about harming anyone."
      Pushing at the small cut on his neck, Grossling worked his jaw. "Use that hot head of yours to kill the Xhosa."  
    "I'll use my temper to neutralize threats, all threats."
    "Wouldn't that make you a threat to be neutralized?" Grossling followed up his words with a laugh full of bluster, as if the levity would take away his careless words. "Good day, Captain."
    Something in Gareth's gut said watch that one, but he shrugged and set his focus on the impending problems with the Xhosa tribe. Fury still roiled in his innards as he headed again toward the blacksmith.  
    Boots crunching on pebbles and dried leaves, he stumbled forward.  
    The low breeze kicked up dust along the road. Specks of cinnamon and umber danced in the wind then settled back down on the road, Port