Tame My Wild Touch – American West Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
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"I owe it all to my uncle, rascal that he was," she said.

He liked the lilting tune of her voice. "Your uncle taught you such skill?"

"Yes. Whenever his ship was in port, he would visit."

"A sailor?"

"No." She shook her head.

"Forgive me," he said and amended, "He was a sea captain."

"Correct, and a fine one."

"Of course, a Winthrop could be nothing less."

"Naturally," she said, doubting he understood the importance of her family background. "He was a wonderful man and so patient."

"A virtue not many people possess."

"You have such insight into other people's shortcomings."

"A talent of mine," he praised himself.

Prudence couldn't help but turn her head away in laughter.

"You don't agree?" he asked, enjoying her relaxed mood.

She looked at him. "I'm sure you have many talents, possibly even insight, but knots . . ." She shook her head forlornly.

"Then you must teach me," he insisted good-naturedly.

Prudence was surprised. She had thought he would protest, yet he had conceded her more knowledgeable in that area and had even requested instruction. She nodded her agreement and added, "You will teach me, in return, about the West?"

Zac was heartened by her willingness to learn of her new surroundings. I’d be delighted."

Prudence felt as though a truce had been reached. How long it would last was doubtful. But for now she would enjoy the peace. She sat back in her seat and watched the passing land slip by. It further soothed her already contented state and caused her eyelids to droop in fatigue.

Her head lolled from side to side, and she ached for a soft pillow. As though her thoughts could be heard and answered, she felt her head rest upon a solid form. A pillow it wasn't, since it was hard. She didn't protest. It felt good, as did the arm that held her firm. Her mind might wonder who cushioned her, but her heart had no trouble deciding. The notorious gunslinger, Zac Stewart, allowed his wife to use him as a pillow. Prudence smiled in sleepy contentment and cuddled against him.

CHAPTER 10

Plattsmouth was a busy town. The train station and steamboat depot saw to that. Travelers could arrange transportation to all areas. And these travelers were good for the economy of Plattsmouth, stocking up on supplies whether traveling by train, steamboat, or wagon. There was always a necessary item to buy before departure.

Zac had that exact intention in mind, but first he needed to learn when the next steamboat was headed up the Missouri River.

Prudence had followed close beside him since leaving the train. It was obvious he was in a hurry. Their baggage had been hastily deposited with the stationmaster, whom they left grinning as he counted the numerous bills Zac paid him in return for his watchful eye. She worried over their destination. She needed time. Time he refused to give her.

"Just a few inquiries," Prudence found herself pleading after her previous requests were repeatedly rebuked.

"What can it hurt?"

Zac continued walking as he spoke, though he slowed his pace. "Ordinarily, I would say it could hurt nothing, but in your case . . ." He allowed his words to trail off purposely, an obvious hint of his distrust of her.

Prudence chose tact instead of anger. "This is important, Zac."

An explanation wasn't necessary He understood the importance of her finding her mother. After all, he had firsthand knowledge of the damage her desertion had inflicted on Prudence. He would love to find the woman himself so he could voice his own sentiments toward her. Yet another part of him worried and wondered if Pru's confrontation with her mother would help heal or would only worsen old wounds.

Zac stopped abruptly, having reached a decision. He took her arm, directing her out of the path of passing couples. "After I purchase tickets for the next steamboat up the Missouri and reserve us a room for the night, I'll see what I can find out for you."

A slim thread was all that was left of Prudence's patience, yet she fought to keep the slender emotions intact.

"That will take time. I could begin the inquiries now and meet you at the hotel."

"Are you suggesting I should trust you not to run away?"

"Be reasonable . . ."

"I'm trying, but you've made it difficult."

Prudence could accept his reluctance to trust her. After all, she had escaped him more than once. "Where would I go? There are no more trains today. It is already late in the day. And the information I seek is here. Why would I want to leave?"

She was correct on all accounts, but he still didn't trust her. He envisioned her hightailing it out of Plattsmouth, information in hand.

"I promise I will meet you at the hotel at the specified time," Prudence insisted. "I won't get into any trouble and —"

A burst of laughter from Zac interrupted her. "You're sure you won't get into trouble, are you?"



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