Read Nora for Free Online

was angry, it got deeper and slower. She marveled at the way he used inflection to control his men, and the way they responded to even the softest words. He projected authority in a way that made her wonder about his past. Perhaps he’d been in the military. He could have been, with that bearing.
    He came riding up the next to the last Friday afternoon of August with a bunch of disheveled, hot and dirty men. He dismounted at the front steps and tossed his reins to the stable hand, so that his horse could be attended to.
    Nora, who was on the porch, stepped back when he approached, because he was dirtier than she’d ever seen him, and he had a three days’ growth of beard. She thought that if she met him on the road, she’dexpect him to have a pistol in either hand and a mask over his nose and mouth.
    He noticed her withdrawal with cold fury. Since her remarks out at the corral, he’d been waiting for an opportunity to tell her how much her superior attitude irritated him. She had no right to look down her nose at hardworking men because they didn’t smell like roses or live up to her idea of civilized behavior.
    â€œWhere’s Chester?” he asked curtly.
    â€œWhy, he drove my aunt and Melly into town in the buggy,” she said. “Is there anything I can do?”
    He pursed his lips and studied the lines of the sleek, soft gray dress that clung to her slender figure. “Do you always dress like that?” he asked with cool mockery. “Like you were going to some fancy city restaurant in one of Mr. Ford’s fancy automobiles?”
    She bristled. “The automobile is more civilized than a horse, I tell you,” she said haughtily. “And we have electric streetcars back East as well as automobiles.”
    â€œWhat a snob you are, Miss Marlowe,” he said pleasantly. His smile didn’t reach his cold, silver eyes. Not at all. She felt chilled by them. “One wonders why you came out here at all when you find us and the work we do so distasteful.”
    She wrapped her arms across her small breasts and felt herself shiver. The heat was uncomfortable. She hoped she wasn’t having a chill, because she knew what it presaged. No. She couldn’t have an attack here, she just couldn’t!
    With her dignity intact, she smiled at him. “Why, I came because of the books.”
    â€œBooks?” he asked, frowning.
    â€œYes! I’ve read all about cowboys, you know,” she told him seriously. “Mr. Beadle’s dime novels portray the cowboy as a knight of the range, a hero in chaps and boots, a nobleman in spurs.”
    He shifted his stance and glowered at her.
    â€œOh, and cowboys are the courtliest gentlemen in the world. That is, when they’re not robbing banks to feed little starving children,” she added, recalling two of her favorite books.
    The glower got worse.
    â€œBut there was nothing about the odor,” she added with quiet honesty. “People hardly expect a knight of the range to smell bad, or be caked in blood and mud and…ahem…other substances,” she pointed out. “I don’t expect you get many social invitations, Mr. Barton.”
    His pale eyes narrowed. “I don’t accept many,” he corrected, his face set. “I’m particular about the company I keep.”
    â€œOne supposes that the reverse is also true,” she replied, and wrinkled her nose.
    His pale eyes flashed. “I don’t like your condescending manner, Miss Marlowe,” he added with magnificent honesty. His eyes held no warmth whatsoever. “And while we’re on the subject, I especially don’t like having you flirt with my men to embarrass them.”
    She colored. “I did not mean…”
    â€œI don’t care what you meant,” he said levelly. “Greely is just a kid, but when you started teasing him, he worshipped you. Then he overheard you discussing him, confessing