Read To Find You Again for Free Online

there'd be bruises.
    "So, you like it rough?" Cullen grinned down at her, exposing yellowish-brown stained teeth. "I do, too."
    Tendrils of panic snaked around Emma's chest as she struggled to escape. Although the two busybodies had seen her leave, Emma doubted they'd say anything if she didn't return. And even if they did, who would lift a hand to help her?
    Emma Hartwell had committed an unforgivable sin seven years ago—she'd chosen to live.
     

Chapter 3
    Originally, Ridge'd had no intention of attending the dance in town that Saturday night. What little he knew of dancing was associated with Indian ceremonies and he didn't figure that type of dance would be looked upon too kindly.
    But although he hated politics, he knew how it worked. If he was to become a respectable member of the community which had shunned him as a child, he had to rub elbows with the local folks, even those he didn't like.
    He rode down Sunset's main street as his gaze wandered across the numerous buggies, wagons, and saddle horses lined up and down the road. It looked like everyone from a twenty-mile radius had come in for the dance.
    A block from the meeting hall, he dismounted and tossed the reins loosely around a post. Even this far from the dance, he could hear voices and the occasional rise of fiddles above the hum of conversation. The sound reminded Ridge of a disturbed beehive.
    He tried to swallow, grimaced, and stuck a finger between the paper collar and his neck, and tugged. If the dance didn't kill him, the shirt damned sure would.
    Ridge adjusted his hat and trudged across the street like he was headed to a ladies' tea party. Against his better judgment, he sidled into the crowded hall. Removing his hat, he ran a hand over his head, ensuring the leather tie still held his long hair back. He searched the many faces and nodded to those who met his gaze. Many of them returned his nod of greeting.
    Howard Freeman, owner of the hardware store, crossed through the mess of people to greet him. Freeman grinned broadly and extended his hand. "Must be some special occasion to get you into town."
    Ridge shook his hand and smiled with genuine warmth. "Seeing you dressed up like a Thanksgiving turkey is more than reason enough."
    Freeman chuckled, his fleshy chins resembling a turkey's wattle. "Look at you! I almost didn't recognize you wearin' a store-bought suit."
    Ridge smoothed a hand over his vest self-consciously and resisted the urge to tug at his collar again. "i reckon you won't see me wearing it very often. Damn thing's gonna choke me."
    Freeman laid a fatherly hand on Ridge's shoulder. "i always said it ain't the clothes, but the man wearin' them that counts."
    Ridge noticed Hartwell and his wife chatting with Thomas Lyndon, the mayor as well as the bank president. Hartwell caught his eye, scowled, and turned away. Ridge frowned—the two men were probably scheming to force some small farmer into selling out to the mighty rancher.
    "Maybe not, but men like Lyndon and Hartwell don't see it that way," Ridge said, his lips curled in distaste.
    "They ain't bad men, Ridge, just used to things bein' a certain way." Freeman clapped him on the back. "You shouldn't be standin' around jawin' with me. In fact, I think Grace is just waitin' for some fella with two left feet to ask her to dance."
    Ridge followed Freeman's pointing finger to the man's daughter, a red-haired gal with freckles dusting her nose and cheeks. She was standing by the refreshment table, watching the dancers as she swayed to the music. "I don't know anyone with two left feet, but I reckon I could handle her."
    "Just don't be handlin' too much. Even though you're a friend, you're still a man and she's my daughter," Freeman warned, his eyes narrowed.
    Ridge held up his hands, palms out. "I'll behave."
    "See that you do." Freeman winked and moved away to greet someone else.
    As Ridge wandered through the crowd, he spotted Hartwell's youngest daughter dancing with a boy he