The Wildest Heart
Jacinta Carey
Setting: Wyoming, 1865Rebecca Whitaker is struggling to keep her family ranch from foreclosure by trading with the Shoshone Indians, working in a saloon, and raising horses. Enter the mysterious Walker Pritchard, claiming he wishes to stay with Reb to leave the memories of the war behind and learn about the ways of the west.
Their intense attraction starts to turn to love, a new and dazzling experience for them both. But can Reb trust Walker? What are his real motives for coming to the Bar T, and how did he know there would be gold in those hills?
Falsely accused of murder, Walker must make a terrible choice between telling the truth to clear his name, but putting Reb's family at even greater risk than they face already, or trying to defend himself without revealing all that happened at the fateful battle of Richmond.
As their enemies close in, Reb must fight to discover the truth in time to save Walker as well as her ranch from the unscrupulous men who will destroy anyone or anything in the way of their worldly ambitions.
Walker heaved up the two pails onto his shoulders using a tree branch as a makeshift yoke, and went stumping into the kitchen.
He put the pails down, and looked up to see a naked woman with the loveliest figure he had ever set eyes on rising from the foam. His mouth went dry. The tree branch fell with a clatter.
Reb's aqua eyes met Walker's black ones briefly, before she ducked back down into the suds with a small squeak.
"Walker, really, you should have shouted or something before you came stomping in here like that," Reb grumbled, as she turned completely crimson.
"I ,uh, I am sorry, Rebel, uh, but," Walker stammered, as she avoided his gaze and sank down even deeper into the suds until he could barely see her.
"But, Rebel, you could have just told me you were a woman, instead of playing such a silly game," he began to scold.
"What game?"
"I thought you were a boy!"
Though how he could ever have made that error, he thought as he recalled the sight of her curves, he had no idea...
The Wildest Heart
Jacinta Carey
Setting: Wyoming, 1865
Word Count: 98,000 words
Rating: Quite Sensual
Price: $4.99
CHAPTER ONE
The only sound Walker Pritchard ever heard was the hammer of a pistol clicking back.
"I've got you dead to rights, so don't try anything, mister. Put your hands up where I can see 'em, and don't make any sudden moves."
"Don't worry, I won't," Walker said with something akin to a sigh of relief, for the voice, despite its gruffness, did not sound terribly threatening.
"Now ride on up a little closer, so I can get a better look at you," the voice demanded, slightly more shrilly, from behind a small rock.
"Can I put one hand on the reins, sir?" Walker asked with a slight smile.
"Nope. Any horseman worth his salt can ride bare back hanging onto the mane, and I hear tell movin' one hand down to draw their weapon is a common trick with gunslingers. So just keep 'em up high," the voice demanded.
"Do I look like a gunslinger to you, then?" Walker asked his invisible companion, hoping to catch a glimpse of him so he could size up his opposition.
"Well, black clothes, expensive gear and hat, top quality saddle, and just a bedroll, so you travel light, all add up to trouble to me. Gunslinger, outlaw, bounty hunter. Maybe an Indian scout, though the Shoshone would spot you a mile off with those clothes and that horse. Black don't blend in well around here, mister. I could see you miles off and creep up to this rock without you ever spotting me," his unseen companion explained with a twinge of obvious amusement.
"Would you believe I'm simply a first-time visitor to the West looking for a bit of work and a chance to see some unspoilt wilderness after five years in the war?"
"That sounds about right," the youthful figure nodded as he strolled out from behind the rock. "Yankee by the sound of you, so that's fine by me, in spite of my name. I'm Reb Whitaker, and I'm sorry about pointing my gun at you," Reb apologised. "Out here, you can't be too careful, especially lately."
Walker examined the small figure carefully. The boy was dressed in a long fringed calfskin coat with beading around the shoulders, heavy leather trousers and finely-tooled cowboy boots. A soft hat laced under the chin, with one blonde lock of hair peeping out at the side, topped the slim figure's appearance.
As for the face, the chin was firm, the small nose slightly tilted upwards, but the eyes were as sharp as a cat's. At first Walker thought they were green, but as the boy relaxed his stance, he could see they were a very striking shade of aquamarine. Walker wondered how old the lad was, and probed for more information.
"Reb, as in Rebel?"
"Sums up my nature to a tee, I'm afraid."
"Pleased to meet you, Rebel Whitaker. I'm Walker Pritchard, and I can understand a young boy like yourself alone out here being careful, what with strangers and Indians and all, so no offence taken."
"What are you doing out here anyway, Mr. Pritchard? I mean, you've strayed a long way from the main road to Grange, and there ain't any other homesteads out here 'cept my family's."
There was no mistaking the suspicious glance from the boy's unusual aqua eyes, and Walker was well aware that the lad's pistol was still cocked. He watched the lad watching him, sizing him up like a poker player with a newly-dealt hand.
Reb's eyes took in the handsome features, the solid masculine jaw with a deep cleft, the firm mouth, thin straight nose, and piercing brown eyes, almost black even in the bright sunshine. The thick black hair was slightly shaggy, but suited Walker Pritchard's dashing appearance. There was no mistaking the confidence and power his body exuded as he sat easily in his saddle despite the gun being pointed at him. Reb's instincts said that this man was a force to be reckoned with, and so Reb certainly hoped Walker really was all that he claimed to be.
Walker replied, "I came out this far because the saloon keeper in Grange, Hank Rigby I think his name was, suggested that you might be looking for a hand on the ranch, just for a few days and nights. I was going to go straight up to the house. But then I thought that since there was still a fair bit left to the day, I might as well have a look around, see if I liked the place first, before I went pestering your father about staying."
"And did Hank tell you why we might be needed a hand? Because if he told you that both my brothers were killed in the war, then he probably also told you we haven't got much money either," Reb said with a proud sniff.
"Both your brothers?" Walker gasped, shocked.
Reb shrugged. "The Hamilton family over in the next town lost all five of their boys, so I don't know that two is all that surprising."
"No, no, of course not," Walker responded distractedly.
He recollected just in time that the inquisitive eyes of his companion were watching his every move. "I just meant it must be hard for you and your family now. As you say, the situation would be even worse if you lacked money. No, I didn't want you to pay me wages. I was thinking of you taking me on as a boarder for a few days. I'd help with the chores and pay you for my room and food," Walker offered.
"It's a mighty fine offer, Mr. Pritchard, but it sounds like charity to me. You work, you get fed and housed in payment. Unless you really are up to no good, I wouldn't say anyone in their right mind would have made an offer like you just did." Reb looked down at the primed pistol.
The threat was obvious in the glance.
Walker licked his lips, and asked, "What did you mean, 'especially lately?'"
"Pardon me?"
"You said you couldn't be too careful around here, and then added the words 'especially lately.' Are you having some sort of trouble I can help with?"
Reb's aqua eyes narrowed for a few seconds, sizing up the man on the black mare with a critical eye. Walker could see the assessing gaze relax as the lad reached a decision.
Reb uncocked the pistol and shoved it back into its holster, and said, "That's what I'm doing down here. Fences down, streams diverted, the wells running dry or fouled, the livestock let into our vegetable patches, all in the past month or so. There's a new man in town taking a mighty big interest in our property at the moment, a man called Alexander Greer. I thought maybe I could catch him or his oily brother Abner in the act. Hell, maybe you're even working for them.
"But," Reb added, as Walker began to protest, "you'd hardly come here in those fancy clothes and do your dirty work in broad daylight. In any case, I could have shot you dead any time in the past five miles if I had really thought you were part of his little schemes."
"I'm eternally grateful to you that you chose not to," Walker said in his driest tone.
"You're welcome. So, if you really want to do some chores around the homestead, how about starting now and giving me a hand with the horses? They've broken out of the corral, or rather, they were let out and the fence was made to look as if it gave way. I've been out here all morning, and I'm damned if I can catch a single one. Even my own horse bolted. Got scared off by a rabbit just as you rode onto the trail, which is another reason why you didn't spot me," Reb explained.
"Well, how about you climb up on the back, and I'll help you round up another one. Once you're mounted again, we can get the rest together," Walker suggested.
"You took the words right out of my mouth, Mr. Pritchard," Reb agreed, and began strolling towards the horse.
"But only on one condition, and that is that you stop calling me Mr. Pritchard. Just Walker will do."
"Daddy tells me not too be too familiar with my elders and betters, but if you insist, then Walker it is."
Walker held a hand down to Reb, and marvelled at how small, soft, and cool the boy's hand was. Walker didn't think Reb was much of a fighter, for all his cocky adolescent airs.
But that was all the more reason the boy and his family needed his help, Walker decided. They had been left helpless, alone, and for the sake of friendship, he needed to watch, wait, and choose the right moment to set his plan into motion.
He got a curious jolt when the lad put his arms around his waist, but told himself he had just been alone too long, and not used to human touch.
All the same, it seemed so natural... Like having a son, he told himself, though there was something about the aqua eyes and way the youth walked that just seemed out of place.
But Walker had little time to wonder, for Reb said, "I'm up just fine. Let's go."
So he pushed his musings to the back of his mind and spurred his horse into a canter, and was soon in pursuit of a magnificent chestnut gelding.
The Wildest Heart
Jacinta Carey
Setting: Wyoming, 1865
Word Count: 98,000 words
Rating: Quite Sensual
Price: $4.99
Reviews:
"A wonderful novel. A brooding hero, feisty heroine, and a mysterious set of foes intent on destroying Reb's ranch and the way of life in the West all make this a novel that will keep you turning the pages." Carolyn Stone, Under the Covers Book Reviews
"Remarkable. This novel has it all, powerful villains, an incredibly brave heroine, and the mysterious Walker and Barclay, who come into her life and change it completely. The author certainly knows how to keep us all guessing, and the conclusion is a real cliff-hanger." Annabelle Stevens, author, Love's Sweet Song
"Rebecca Whitaker's life has been even harder on her ranch since her two older brothers decided to go off to fight in the War Between the States, and have never returned. Her father is an older man and impractical, and just when she thinks her burdens are becoming too heavy, she gets help in the form of handsome Walker Pritchard.
"He claims that he just wants to come out and see life in the West before greedy land-hungry developers move in to take over. But while she seems irresistibly drawn to him, she can't help but wonder why he is there, and the appearance of a so-called distant cousin from England and some very mysterious men in town makes her wonder what sort of web she has become ensnared in.
"This is a marvelous first historical novel. It has fascinating characters, a detailed and perceptive portrayal of life in the American West in the 1860s, and a wonderful element of mystery as we try to discover the hidden agendas of all the men who suddenly appear in Rebecca's life.
"The sizzling romance between Rebecca and Walker shimmers on the page, making this one novel that romance readers will not want to miss." Shannon Farrell, Call Home the Heart
The Wildest Heart
Jacinta Carey
Setting: Wyoming, 1865
Word Count: 98,000 words
Rating: Quite Sensual
Price: $4.99
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