Read Cowboy Heart (Historical Western Romance) (Longren Family series #3, Kitty and Lukes story) for Free Online Page B

backing away, moving slowly, trying harder than ever not to trip over my feet, my boots, my skirts, or any other thing.
                  I didn't trip.  Instead, I backed directly into something hard, warm and laughing.
                  The minute I felt contact, I stopped moving, closed my eyes, gritted my teeth and thought about taking to my heels and running.  The man behind me put warm hands on my shoulders just long enough to stabilize us both as he moved back away from me.  His voice was warm and full of laughter when he said, "Whoa, there, missy."
                  Crimson again, my cheeks flaming, I turned, ready to apologize; instead, I blinked and only just managed to shut my mouth.
                  Reddish gold bangs over his forehead, green eyes, a darker beard and moustache; his mouth quirked upward in a grin.  He was tall, at least six inches over my five-six, and wearing trail-stained denim, the shirt rolled to mid-biceps and open at the throat.
                  Ordinary encounters with strangers rob me of speech.  Handsome men rob me even of thought. I couldn't think of a word to say.
                  "You don’t want to go in there," he said, indicating the pasture I'd unwittingly nearly walked into.  "Not that they're not nice cows and all, but—"
                  "—Cattle," I said, without thinking.
                  That just made him laugh.  "Robert McLeod," he said with a nod.  "Are you helping Missus Kennedy with the ranch?"
                  Surely we'd have encountered each other before if I were, but it was as good a guess as any.  "Not that she'd say so," I answered, and when he looked puzzled, "I'm her sister, Kathryn Collins."  Kitty, I wanted to add.  I wanted to hear him say it.
                  Of course, he said, "Miss Collins.  Was there something you needed in there?"  Another nod, this one at the pasture.
                  Common sense, I thought.  Wool gathering.  My palms were damp and my heart beat quite quickly.  Simultaneously, I wanted both to never leave this spot and for Mr. Robert McLeod to never leave it either, and to run, as fast as I could, back to the ranch house and hide myself away.
                  "I'm visiting my sister," I volunteered.  From all around us, I could hear cowboys finishing up with caring for the horses, heading for the bunkhouse, calling to each other, some planning to head into Redding, others cleaning up for chores and supper. 
                  "Will you be visiting long?"
                  Probably he was just being polite.  A man like that, he had to have a girl somewhere, maybe more than one; one at the end of every trail.  And I wasn't sure what made me say it, maybe just that I wanted to stand out, I was Kitty Collins and, shy or not, I was used to being known in my own town and I wanted him to know who I was. 
                  "As long as I can," I said.  "I didn't tell my—" I stumbled, not wanting to say Mother and seem too young—"family that I was coming here."
                  "Devil may care," he said. 
                  Someone called him then, probably the cowboy they called Tiny, because the man was a giant, with shoulders like a mountain and legs like tree trunks, and Mr. McLeod shouted back not to leave without him, that he'd be right there, then turned back to me and nodded.  "Maybe I'll see you at supper, then?"
                  Maybe the cat would have released my tongue by then and I could respond like a normal person, say something like That would be nice or—something, if I knew what to respond I'd have done so.  I'd like that.
                  "I'd like that," I heard myself say with a curious sensation of standing somewhere behind myself, astonished.
                  He gave me a smile that