Between the Lines is coming in print Oct. 24th from The Wild Rose Press!

“Mr. Kelly, are you listening to me? I’m serious! Don’t
you care?”
It took him a moment to recall what she’d said. He
shrugged indifferently. “No.”
She gasped. Her expression was so easy to read, he
could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she
searched for a solution to her dilemma. He knew if
Margaret Greyson really was the young woman she
claimed to be, she would never agree to join him. But if
she were truly a loose woman hired by Charlie
MacDonald, she’d do whatever she had to, to get close to
him.
Drawing herself up to her full height, which barely
reached his hip as he sat on the wagon, she squared her
shoulders and announced, “Mr. Kelly, I apologize for my
misunderstanding the invitation you made to share your
life, but in my own defense, I honestly believed the offer
you made implied marriage.”
She paused to draw a deep breath. “While I am
indeed a progressive sort of woman, a common law
marriage would hurt my family, and I will never consent
to such an agreement. However, I am agreeable to a
compromise, and have decided to join you at your ranch,
in order to determine whether or not we are compatible. If
we indeed, do suit, then I insist upon a lawful marriage,
or I shall return to New York. In the meantime, I am
certain your cook and housekeeper will adequately satisfy
Papa’s definition of a proper chaperone.
“I only ask that you give your word as a gentleman,
to respect my person and my reputation during my visit.”
She squarely met his gaze.
She was a brave little thing. Men cowered when he
glared at them. He tried again to scare her off and ice
chilled his voice when he said. “Sure now, ‘tis no
gentleman
I be.”
She gulped. “I-I didn’t mean gentleman literally. I
was referring to your personal sense of integrity and
honor, the soul of a gentleman.”
Kelly leaned so far down from his perch on the wagon
seat his face was mere inches from hers. Tiny beads of
perspiration popped out across her forehead; still she did
not back down. His voice was harsh, without inflection. “I have-
no-soul.”
She shivered. Hurriedly, she tugged open her reticule
and removed the bundle of letters she’d waved around
earlier. She stared at the top envelope for several long
seconds as though seeking an answer in the slanting
script.
Satisfied he’d finally chased her away, he
straightened and slapped the reins against the rumps of
his team, urging them forward. Slowly, they started down

the street.

www.thewildrosepress.com ISBN 1-60154-264-X
www.kathyottenauthor.com