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Additional info for Angeline - A Story of Love
That was good news. “What brought you to my ranch, Mr. ” Only a very few folks had ever fooled Remington. Libby Blue, as she called herself, wasn’t going to be one of them. He called upon his ability to read people and saw intelligence in her eyes, as well as a healthy dose of caution and a dash of distrust. He also sensed an innate honesty. Fortunately Remington wasn’t troubled by his conscience when it came to fabricating identities or histories for himself. When tracking down fugitives, one was required to do or say many things an otherwise honest person wouldn’t do or say.
She hurried out of the bedroom. Never trust a stranger. Never. I know better. Don’t trust him, no matter what. Keeping her guard up was a rule that had served her well for over six years. It was a rule she couldn’t afford to abandon—not even for this particular stranger’s devastating smile. Unbidden, unwanted, the memory of her father intruded. A regal man with steel-gray hair and eyes to match. A man who bought and sold people the same way he bought and sold property or ships or anything else.
It’s only my leg and side that’s hurt, you know. ” A sudden vision of Remington holding her in his arms overcame Libby. She saw his head lowering toward hers until their mouths could touch. She felt it, as clearly as if it were happening, and she wondered if she wanted God to protect her from this man after all. “All right, Mr. Walker. You may help if you wish. ” Sawyer reckoned Mr. Walker might be of some real help around the ranch once he was good and healed, but from the useless way he swung at—and missed again—that nail, that time hadn’t come yet.