The Horseman's Bride Read Free

that, for Jace, had vanished with his sister’s frantic telephone call. He’d had no chance to tell Eileen what had happened and why he had to leave. But that was likely for the best.
    He had no doubt that word had spread like wildfire after he’d left. And the very proper Miss Summers wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with an accused murderer on the run.
     
    “Easy, boy…” Clara walked toward the nervous colt, the tall grass swishing against her legs. One hand held the small apple she carried for such emergencies. The stranger sat his horse, his cool gaze following her every movement.
    Tanner. Was that his first name or his last name? No matter, it probably wasn’t his name at all. He had the look and manner of a man with something to hide. She would need to have a serious talk with her grandmother. Mary Gustavson was far too trusting.
    Maybe she should talk with her father as well. Judd Seavers would probably run the stranger off the place with a shotgun. But then the stallion would be gone. She would lose the chance to add his splendid bloodline to next spring’s foals.
    Her father had enough on his mind. She wouldn’t trouble him about the stranger. Not yet, at least.
    “Easy…” She held out her hand with the apple on the flat of her palm. Foxfire pricked up his ears. His nostrils twitched. He took a tentative step toward her, thrusting his muzzle toward the treat. “That’s it. Good boy!” As the colt munched the apple, Clara caught the bridle with her free hand. Moving cautiously, she eased herself back into the saddle.
    The man who called himself Tanner was grinning at her. “Right fine job of horse-catching, Miss Clara,” he drawled. “Couldn’t have done it better myself.”
    “You needn’t patronize me, Mr. Tanner. There’s not that much to catching a horse that I’ve trained.” Clara turned the colt back toward the last open section of fence. “Why not build a gate here? We come this way all the time to visit my grandmother. If we can’t get through, we’ll have to go by way of the road. It’s three times the distance.”
    “Not a bad suggestion. But I’ll need to get the boss’s approval and see what’s in the shed that I can use.” He pulled his horse alongside hers. “Meanwhile, as long as we’re going the same way, I hope you won’t mind my company.”
    Clara bit back a caustic retort. Tanner’s high-handed manner made her bristle. But she’d made up her mind to learn more about the stranger. Here was her chance. She slowed the colt to a walk.
    “You seem to know plenty about me,” she said. “But I don’t know anything about you. Where did you come from?”
    Tanner’s narrowed eyes swept the grassy pastureland, looking everywhere but at her. In the silence, a meadowlark called from its perch atop a fence post.
    “I grew up in Missouri,” he said at last. “But whatever kept me there is long gone. Drifting’s become a way of life for me. Can’t say as I mind it.”
    “No family?”
    He shook his head. “None that I’ve kept track of. My parents died years ago. The rest moved on.”
    What about your sister? The one you said lent you the stallion?
    The question burned on the tip of Clara’s tongue. She bit it back. Confronting Tanner would only put him on guard. Let him go on feeding her lies. He’d already confirmed her suspicions that he was holding something back. Give him enough rope and he was bound to hang himself.
    All she needed was a little patience.
    But he wasn’t making it easy for her.
    Why did the man have to be so tall and broad-shouldered? Why did he have to have a chiseled face and eyes like twin blue flames? Right now those eyes looked as if they could burn right through her clothes. Any town boy who looked at her like that would be asking to get his face slapped.
    The man was dangerous, she reminded herself. He could be a fugitive, even a murderer. She’d be a fool to let him get too close.
    “You don’t sound like a trail bum, Mr.