Read Justice Burning (Hellfire #2) for Free Online

Phoebe draped an arm around his neck and sighed. As soon as she had a pair of shoes, she could get around on her own. She didn’t need this man’s arms to carry her everywhere. Though they were solid, and muscular, and so very strong…
    He backed through the door and carried her inside. “Peg, I have a customer for you.”
    A small, athletic woman with graying strawberry blond hair leaned out from a rack of blue jeans. “Oh, hi, Nash.” She blinked, doing a double-take. “What on earth have you got there? Did I not get an invite to the wedding?” She grinned.
    Nash’s jaw tightened. “I picked up this stray on the highway into town. I don’t suppose you could help her find some shoes to fit?”
    Phoebe frowned. “I’m not a stray, and I can speak for myself.” She glared up at him. “Please, put me down.”
    He set her on her feet. “You’re in capable hands. Peg will help you with whatever you need.”
    With her weight balanced on her good foot, Phoebe gathered her dress around her. “Thank you.” She turned her attention to a large room with row upon row of clothes racks and felt overwhelmed. “Oh, dear, where should I start?”
    Peg’s smile disappeared. “Sweetheart, let me help you.” She held out her hand. “Margaret Clayton. Most folks around here call me Peg.”
    Phoebe took her hand. “Phoebe…S-Smith.” She glanced around. “I need shoes and clothes I can work in.” She held out the bills in her hand. “Whatever I can get for twenty-five dollars.”
    Peg curled her hand around Phoebe’s without taking the money. “Honey, you keep your money. This thrift shop supports the women’s shelter. From the looks of you, I’d say you could use a little of that support right now.” She hooked a hand in the crook of Phoebe’s elbow and herded her toward a rack of clothes.
    For the first time since he’d come across Phoebe on the side of the road, Nash was more than four feet away from her. As soon as she left his side, he felt a void where she’d been. When he should have been breathing a sigh of relief and stepping outside into the fresh Texas air, he stood rooted to the tile floor, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Rescuing a damsel in distress must have triggered some kind of residual protective instinct. That had to be it. He pushed his hat back on his head, semi-satisfied with his reasoning.
    Then why hadn’t he had the same feeling when he’d rescued Maggie Parker from her abusive boyfriend? She was young and as pretty as Phoebe. Maggie was a friend. He knew her and he didn’t know Phoebe. Yet, he hadn’t felt this weird sense of territorial claim or belonging he was feeling toward the runaway bride who kept looking back, as if afraid he’d leave her stranded in the thrift shop.
    Nash spun on his boot heels and started for the exit and clear, country air. He had his hand on the door when he made the mistake of looking over his shoulder.
    Peg had disappeared in the maze of clothes racks.
    Phoebe stood with her wedding dress bunched in her arms, her gaze on him, her eyes round and scared.
    Damn.
    Instead of pushing through the door, he stopped, turned his back to the windows and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as if he had all day to wait for Phoebe to get dressed in something besides that billowing poof of a wedding dress. He nodded toward her, keeping his face set and serious.
    Phoebe’s shoulders relaxed, and she turned toward Peg, who approached with an armload of denim.
    “Start with these. I guessed your size.” She was back in a moment with blouses of all shapes and colors. Like a child’s automated toy, Peg darted left and right, ducking in and out of racks, until she had a shopping cart filled with a mound of clothing and another filled with shoes.
    At the sight, Nash groaned and chanced a glance at his watch. He keyed his mic and spoke into the radio on his shoulder. “Gretchen, could you notify the office I’ll be delayed another thirty