Page 9 of Hard Bounty

Which brought her back to the handsome man.

She groaned another time, but now it had nothing to do with the pain.

“Can you move your legs?” he inquired.

“John Hardin,” she said.

“Yeah?”

She shook her head but winced from the pain. “I meant, your name is John Hardin. It’s all…coming back to me now.”

“Can you sit up?” he asked.

She did so, but it took a few seconds of labored, stiff movements.

Her eyes went from him to his rifle that was resting against the closest tree. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d brought it along in case he needed to use it on her, or just so it wasn’t unattended back in the saddle boot on his horse.

She hoped it was the latter reason. The thought of having the weapon pointed at her wasn’t appealing. But then again, there was a lot about this little adventure that wasn’t appealing.

Like falling down a rocky ravine.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she said.

“And your memory is clear?”

“Yes.”

“So you remember how you ran away from me after lying about needing to answer nature’s call?” he pressed.

She bobbed her head. Ouch! Just that little motion hurt so bad she nearly saw stars!

“If you weren’t in such rough shape, little girl, I’d hike that dress up, pull your pantaloons down, and take you across my knee to give your bottom a good walloping!”

“Hey!” she protested.

“Don’t youheyme, young lady. You could have gotten yourself killed, running around these woods like a wild animal! And could have gotten me hurt, too.” He looked up at the sharp incline of the ravine’s wall. “It’s going to be hard enough getting up that thing, and I attached a rope to a tree up yonder. But it could have been a lot worse than this! Now, you’re lucky your head didn’t get stove in when you fell. Could’ve busted it on a rock or something.”

A pang of guilt stabbed at her and she wanted to cry but managed to barely hold back the tears.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said quietly.

Standing over her, with his hands on his hips, he shook his head. “I don’t know if I believe that. To be honest, I’m not sure what I believe with you.”

That was fair and she knew it. But the words still stung. For some reason, John Hardin’s opinion of her mattered greatly. Far more than it should, she reminded herself.

“You can stand?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

He put his hands on her as she tried, steadying her. Just that small touch sent a jolt of excited electricity coursing through her body. For the briefest of moments, she forgot about the pain the fall had caused.

“And you can walk?”

Putting her right foot out and then her left, she took a few steps and nodded.

“Alright. We’re going to hold onto this rope.”

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