Wild Roses by Hannah Howell Page A

If that is your newest plan of escape, you’ve got to do a hell of a lot better than you just did.”
    Even as the words left his mouth, Harrigan wanted them back. They were not only unkind, they were unfair. The tight look on her face and the way all the color had fled her cheeks told him he had hurt her and he felt ashamed of himself.
    â€œElla,” he whispered, afraid he had irredeemably offended her. “Say something.”
    â€œI was just thinking that, after I kill Harold, I believe I will come looking for you.”

Chapter Seven
    Anger and hurt had formed a solid, painful knot in Ella’s stomach. All the while she and Harrigan had packed up their belongings, eaten breakfast, and walked to where he had stabled their horses, she had not once spoken to the man. She had barely even looked at him. Even George had been made to pay for Harrigan’s insult. She had exchanged only the barest of cool pleasantries with the man and he too had fallen silent.
    She knew it was more than the pain inflicted by Harrigan’s words that troubled her. The fact that his angry accusation had hurt her at all, let alone so deeply, was a cause for concern. So was the fact that she could still feel the warmth of his kiss, and, worse, knew she would greedily accept another without much hesitation. Beneath all of her pain and fury was a need that refused to be ignored or pushed aside by common sense and pride.
    When Harrigan reached for her bag she jerked her hand away so fast, in a blatant attempt to avoid his touch, that the bag almost fell to the ground. Harrigan looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. Ella supposed it was a good sign that he was aware of how badly he had behaved, but she was still too hurt to be cheered by that. She just prayed that he thought her cold silence was born of a deep sense of insult and nothing else. The last thing she wished him to be aware of was how much he had hurt her.
    Suddenly she realized that Harrigan was as immersed in his own thoughts as she had just been. He was not paying any attention to her, busily saddling his horse and pointedly avoiding her gaze. George was still at the far end of the stable settling accounts with the owner. There was a clear path to her saddled horse and a very good chance she could be in the saddle and riding away before either man was fully aware of what she was doing. Ella then realized that she was wasting precious time thinking about it and made her move. She ran to her horse and threw herself into the saddle.
    Harrigan proved to be far more alert than she had thought. He cursed even as he turned and reached for her. Ella kicked him in the face and he stumbled backward into his horse. As she rode out of the stable, spurring her little mare to a fast trot the minute she was clear of the building, she was a little stunned by the violence the man stirred in her. She then smiled to herself as she admitted that she had not kicked him solely to expedite her escape, but also in payment for his cruel words. A quick glance behind her revealed that she had not stopped Harrigan for long either, for he was just emerging from the stable. She concentrated on getting out of town without hurting anyone and prayed that she could maintain the small lead she had.
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    â€œWhat the hell happened?” demanded George as he rode up next to Harrigan.
    â€œWhat does it look like?” Harrigan replied, yelling to be heard over the horses. “I wasn’t paying attention and she got away from me again. And I’m getting damned sick of being kicked in the face.”
    George said nothing and Harrigan was glad of it. He did not want to try to explain things, especially not while they were chasing Ella. It still astounded him that he had said those harsh things to her. For one brief moment he had allowed his frustration and mistrust to control his mouth. One minute he was holding a passionate Ella who, quite rightly, had put a stop to their impromptu and