Читать книгу Colorado Courtship - Carolyn Davidson, Carolyn Davidson - Страница 9

“Good morning, Mrs. Beaumont.” Jessica knew without looking from the back of the wagon that her visitor was Gage Morgan. His voice was distinctive, deep, and with a touch of the South in each syllable. Hastily she fastened the remaining buttons on her dress and snatched up her brush, bending as she reached the opening where he stood.

“I’m not ready for company this morning,” she said quietly, looking out on the circle of wagons, and then to the man who watched her. Close enough to see within, yet far enough distant to appear discreet to the passersby, he smiled as she glanced in his direction.

“Can I help you from your wagon?” he asked, extending a hand as she considered the ungainly chore of climbing over the rear opening.

It was too good an offer to pass up, she decided, having found over the past couple of weeks that her balance was decidedly off center. His palm was broad, his hands callused and strong, and he gripped her firmly, long fingers at her elbows as she carefully climbed to the ground.

“Thank you, Mr. Morgan,” she murmured, feeling at a distinct disadvantage, off balance with the added weight of the baby and her hair disheveled from a restless night’s sleep. Her face was still unwashed, and it was embarrassing to have a stranger see her without the benefit of time alone to put herself together for the day. On top of that, she felt other eyes watching her, probably making her the topic of gossip over every campfire.

“My pleasure, ma’am,” Gage said, smiling lazily, his gaze fastened on her as she wobbled a bit, unwillingly thankful for his steadying hands, hands that caressed her arms lightly before he released his grip. “I brought you warm water from the campfire by our wagon,” he said. “I thought it might be welcome.”

And it was, she realized. Yet, there was a degree of hesitance as she nodded her thanks, and the obligation she felt to the man made her uneasy. If Finn had done the good deed, she’d have no doubt welcomed his help. But coming from Gage Morgan, it didn’t sit well, and she had to force the smile he no doubt expected.

“I’ll leave you to it, ma’am,” Morgan said, tipping his hat, his gaze narrowing as his eyes took a survey of her face and form. “If there’s anything at all I can do for you, just give me a wave and I’ll be here. I hope you realize you can depend on me to lend a hand when you need it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Morgan.” Turning from him, she reached inside the wagon and found the towel she’d left on a box, handy for her morning ablutions. When she looked back to where he’d placed the bucket of water, she found he’d filled the basin for her use, and she felt her mouth tighten. It smacked of intimacy, tending to her needs this way, and she felt he’d ventured too close for comfort.

But the water was warm, refreshing against her skin and she used it lavishly, appreciating the luxury of the early-morning wash without having to first light a fire. Her hair required daily brushing before she braided it, and it didn’t seem she would have the time available this morning to perform the task. A quick swipe of the brush through the dark waves would suffice, she decided, as she reached for her sunbonnet.

More than one man spoke as she made her way to a secluded area that had been set aside for the women’s use last evening, and assessing eyes took note of her, much to her discomfort. It seemed that marriage had, before today, provided a barrier, protecting her from the attentions of other men, and now that Lyle was no longer in the picture, she was open game for the available men on the train. Jonas had warned her it would be so, but the reality was almost overwhelming.

In a few minutes, she returned to her wagon and found Finn there, tending a small blaze, her skillet in his hand, bacon waiting on its surface for the burning wood to heat sufficiently. He glanced up at her and grinned. His hair looked like morning sunshine, she thought, and his eyes were warm. It was unfair to compare men, one to another. It was like apples and oranges, her mother had always said. Yet, the difference between Finn and the darkly handsome Morgan was a night-and-day variation.

Finn watched her, his good mood apparent, and she found herself returning his smile as he welcomed her back to her own campfire. “Good morning,” he said with a hint of teasing edging the greeting. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this morning, but I had to leave early on, just before sunrise. Jonas asked me to ride out and take a gander at the trail up ahead. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to lend a hand, but I promise you I’ll have a real treat in store for you tonight when we circle the wagons.”

“A treat?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“I’ll say no more till tonight,” he said.

The man was clean shaven this morning, his clothing neat, his hair showing the line where his hat had perched as he rode. An altogether presentable appearance, one she could envision taking pleasure in viewing in the days to come. And with an indrawn breath, she recognized that she was very near to making her choice, no matter the suitability of Gage Morgan.

“I missed you earlier,” she said in answer to his apology. “I was about to set a match to my fire and fix some breakfast.”

“I beat you to it, and saved you a bit of time,” he told her. “Now, I expect some food for my trouble. But I’ll bet you’ve already figured that out.”

He was crowding her, and she recognized his methods, knew he meant to gain a foothold, but she was onto his shenanigans. Her smile came easily as she nodded, waving a hand at the skillet he held. “I’ll do that. Give me a few minutes and I’ll mix together some biscuits and get them baking in the coals, then I’ll tend to the bacon.”

Turning back to the opening, she lifted the wooden box, settling it in place so that she could climb into the wagon bed, only to find him at her side. “Here, you take this,” he said, giving her no choice as he pressed the skillet into her hands. “I’ll climb up and get you a measure of flour from your barrel.”

Flustered, she took the iron pan and then watched as he made short work of what would have taken considerable time and effort on her part. In moments, he had the bowl of flour handed out to her, and she took it in her free hand and placed it on a precious chunk of wood by the fire. The lard can and her jars of salt and soda clutched to his chest, he climbed down and placed the bits and pieces next to the bowl of flour.

“All right. I’ll switch with you,” he said cheerfully, spreading the coals a bit as the wood burned down to permit the skillet’s placement atop the heat. “We’re going to have to resort to buffalo chips soon,” he said. “There won’t be much more wood available until we reach Council Grove.”

Jessica nodded. “I thought I might gather some during the day and fill a burlap sack full while I’m walking by the oxen.”

“Probably be a good idea,” Finn agreed, placing the bacon to fry atop the coals.

With deft movements, Jessica mixed lard into the flour, added salt and soda and then formed the biscuits while Finn turned the bacon as it cooked. The shallow stone she used for baking was already hot beneath the coals and Finn poked it from the fire, then wiped it clean with swift movements, readying it for her use.

The biscuits sizzled in a bit of lard and within ten minutes the small, flat bits of bread were ready to eat. “These don’t look like what I made back home in Saint Louis,” she said, placing bacon between two layers of the makeshift bread. “But they don’t taste half bad when you’re hungry.”

“It’s enough to keep us going till nooning,” Finn told her as he gingerly lifted two more from the stone, tossing them from hand to hand to cool them down. She smiled at his antics, aware that his actions were designed to amuse her. Hers were not the only eyes focused on Finn, but he seemed oblivious to the frankly envious looks from several men aimed in his direction.

And then he settled down to finish his breakfast and sat cross-legged on the ground, his gaze assessing Jessica, lingering on her face as if he gauged her well-being by the color of her skin, the circles she knew lingered beneath her eyes.

“Thank you for sleeping under my wagon last night,” she said as she brushed the crumbs from her fingers. “I know I was less than gracious to you, and I apologize.”

“When I consider the day you lived through, I’m surprised you didn’t reach out and toss me on my—” He grinned suddenly. “Sorry. I forgot myself for a moment there.”

He was a scamp, she decided, his eyes twinkling, his mouth curving in a smile. And she was responding to him as might a young girl faced by her first suitor, enjoying the company he offered. Companionship she’d lacked with Lyle. She looked down at her hands, clenching her fingers in her lap, and felt a moment’s shame that she should so quickly set aside the memory of her marriage.

But Lyle was gone and buried, she thought, gritting her teeth. Still, she supposed she should feel some small bit of remorse, perhaps even grief at his passing. Yet, when all was said and done, she could only be relieved that he was no longer here to berate her and make her life miserable. Her sigh was audible as she faced her own lack of caring for the man she’d married.

“What is it, Jessica?” Finn rose from the ground and moved toward her, then crouched, one knee on the ground, his big frame dwarfing her. “You look like a shadow just passed over and left you in the shade.”

“I suspect I’m feeling guilty,” she murmured, unable to look up at him. “Lyle’s been dead less than a full day, and I can’t find it in me to regret his death.” Her voice caught on the words and she felt the warmth of a tear as it slid the length of her cheek to fall against her breast.

“Jessica.” Finn spoke her name, almost as a sigh, and she lifted a hand, as if she rejected his comfort. “Surely you don’t have regrets,” he said quietly. “The man was not worthy of you. Everyone in the wagon train recognized that as the truth. He didn’t have a friend among the family men, only a handful of lowlifes who liked to gamble as much as he did. And the whole bunch of them aren’t worth the powder it would take to blow them away.”

Jessica nodded, aware that his assessment of Lyle and his cronies was on target. “He used to get angry with me,” she began quietly, “when he’d been playing poker late at night and then was too tired to get up in the morning. He said I should take my turn and walk by the ox team and let him sleep in the wagon.” She looked up as she spoke, as if she sought comfort in the gentle smile Finn offered. His features were blurred by her tears, and she brushed them away with her palms.

Finn’s mouth tightened as he watched her futile gesture, for the tears would not be halted now that they had begun. “Don’t cry for him,” he said harshly. “He wasn’t worth your tears, Jess.”

“I suppose that’s why it saddens me so,” she said haltingly. “I loved him once—or at least I thought I did. When he came courting, he was a gentleman, mannerly and polite. It wasn’t until we were married for a few months that he began drinking more. I suppose he’d hidden his vices well, early on.”

“Why on earth did he marry you?” Finn asked bluntly. “He didn’t seem cut out to be a family man to my way of thinking. Surely he didn’t have an overwhelming love for you. At least it didn’t seem so.”

She shrugged. “He thought he would be well-fixed. My parents have a bit of money. We always lived nicely, and my father had his own business. I think Lyle had visions of coming into an inheritance one day. My parents had me very late in life, and I was their only child. He thought they’d support all of his schemes. And if that didn’t work, he figured he’d inherit a nice amount when they passed on.”

“And then it didn’t work out the way he thought it would, I expect.”

She shook her head. “No, it didn’t. My father gave him a job, and Lyle stole from the company.” She felt the blush of shame sweep over her countenance. “He was let go, and then no one else would hire him when it became known that he wasn’t trustworthy. My folks wanted me to leave him and come back home.”

“But you didn’t.” Finn’s words were touched with anger, and she watched as his hands formed fists and his eyes narrowed with the force of his emotion.

“No, I couldn’t.” She looked up at him, remembering the day she’d made that foolish choice. “I couldn’t admit I’d been wrong to marry him. But I changed my mind later, after I found I was carrying a child. Then, one day—”

Her words came to a halt as she remembered the day when Lyle had struck her down and she’d fallen the full flight of stairs in the boardinghouse where they lived.

“What happened?” Finn asked, rising to stand before her.

She looked up at him. “There was an accident and I lost my child. She was born too early and didn’t live.”

“And Lyle? Did he feel any remorse?” His jaw taut, Finn looked away, as if unwilling to allow Jessica to see the depths of his disgust with the man.

“No. He refused to pay the midwife who came. He said it was her fault the baby died and he didn’t owe her one red cent. Then we moved away from there and I began to work for our keep in a boardinghouse. It gave us a roof over our heads, and so long as I could cook and clean, we had a place to live.”

“How long were you married to him?” Finn asked.

“Four years. Four long, miserable years.” She bit her lips, remembering the past months. “I thought when he brought home the deed that night, things would be different. He said we’d go to Colorado, farm the land, and he’d look for gold. The papers that came with the deed said there was a rich vein there. It was probably the first time he’d ever won such an amount in a poker game.”

“So you joined a wagon train and headed out from Saint Louis.” Finn’s voice took on a lower, gruffer note, and Jessica looked up at him.

“It didn’t take Lyle long to make that decision,” she said. “We must have been leaving the day you said you saw me, that first time. That was two months ago.” Her mind searched out the memory of that day. “I don’t remember you being there, but then, things were hectic, and Lyle was late getting our things packed up.”

“Yeah, he was busy.” Finn’s voice imbued the word with a harshness she hadn’t expected. “He tossed you on top of the wagon seat like you were a sack of oats.”

Jessica’s gaze searched his face, bewildered by the anger that tightened his jaw as he spoke. Surely he had no reason to hold such a grudge against Lyle, no matter how poorly he’d behaved. He hadn’t even known the man.

“It’s all in the past, anyway,” she said, rising and brushing down her skirts. “I survived, Mr. Carson. I’m tougher than you think.” She looked to where Jonas was walking inside the circle of wagons. “It looks like Mr. McMasters is getting ready to roll. I’ll have to go and sort out my team.”

“No, Jessica. You’ll do no such thing,” Finn told her. “Just put your dishes away and scrub out your skillet. I’ll have your team here and hitched to your wagon in fifteen minutes.” He stalked away, and Jessica was left to watch his long legs cover the ground to where the animals were staked within an enclosure.

As she watched, Gage approached the herded beasts from another direction, and he and Finn came face-to-face, obviously having words in the midst of the docile oxen. Finley Carson was not a man to cross swords with this morning, she thought as Gage cast a look in her direction, tipped his hat in a gesture of greeting and walked back to the wagon where his partners waited. The other men were already hitching up their team and Gage turned aside, tossing odds and ends of their gear inside the wagon.

Finn led Jessica’s animals toward her, his eyes seeking her out. Time was fleeting while she stood gawking, she thought, and with practiced movements, she washed out her skillet and scrubbed off her baking stone. Within ten minutes she was ready for the day, and at Finn’s bidding she climbed into the back of the wagon, reaching to take the wooden box inside for storage until they halted once more.

“You forgot your hairbrush,” he said from behind her, and she turned to see him in the rear opening, handing in the bone-handled utensil. “I’ll have to speak my mind, I think,” he said with a smile. “I like your hair that way, hanging loose down your back. It makes you look about sixteen years old.”

“I’m not sixteen,” she told him tartly. “I feel like an old woman already at twenty-four, and this morning every single year is weighing me down.” As if to refute his remark, she gathered her hair across her shoulder and separated it into three thick strands, her fingers industrious as she formed the accustomed plait she wore.

“Don’t scowl,” he said with a grin. “I’d think you’d be feeling pretty special, Jess,” he told her, the teasing note returning to his voice. “There’s a whole flock of menfolk circling you like wolves after a pretty little red deer. You’ll have your pick,” he reminded her.

“I’m not in any hurry. I have two weeks to make up my mind,” she retorted, and noted his satisfied smile as he turned away. The fact that at least two men were actively seeking her favor should have made her feel a bit more secure, she supposed. But instead, she knew an uneasy sensation that blighted her day.

Gage Morgan was a handsome man, and if she hadn’t already been approached by Finn, he might have been able to win her over, to a point where she’d consider him more seriously. As it was, Finn was crowding her, intent on cutting out the competition, and though it made her feel womanly and worthy of attention, she didn’t like it—not one little bit. For the first time in her life, she savored the feeling of making her own choices, of pondering her future and charting her course. Independence was an exhilarating thing, she decided.

After the stop for noontime, when the women brought forth cold food left from breakfast or the night before, Jessica offered Finn what was left of the rabbit stew. He forked through the bits of meat and placed several on a biscuit, then topped it with another and ate the makeshift meal while he stood beside the wagon.

“I’m sorry there wasn’t more,” she said. “Maybe Arlois Bates has leftovers to spare. Want me to ask her?” As a scout, Finn was welcomed at almost every campsite, and offered food from various kettles each night. He carried supplies in Jonas’s wagon, but rarely needed to set up a fire of his own.

“I’m fine,” Finn assured her. “I have to ride out for a while. If I see any game, I’ll bring you back something for supper. Will you mind pacing the oxen for a couple of hours?”

She shook her head quickly. “No, that’s fine. If you’ll get my burlap bag I’ll keep an eye out for chips for the fire tonight. I need to walk for a while anyway,” she told him, sliding over the back of the seat into the wagon bed. He was at the rear when she made her way through the piles of boxes and bits of furniture stacked on either side of the floor, and reached in to lift her from the canvas shelter with a total lack of ceremony. He reached back inside for the burlap sack she’d left handy.

“Here you go,” he said, and then hesitated as she grasped the heavy burlap. “I hate you having to gather buffalo chips,” he said.

“I’m healthy and able,” she told him. “I’m just lucky not to have run out of wood before this. All the other women do their share, and I’m no different.”

“That’s where we’re going to disagree,” Finn said. “You are different. In the first place, you’re going to have a baby.”

“All women have babies,” Jessica told him. “I knew when I started out from Saint Louis that this wasn’t going to be an easy trip. I’m not afraid of work, and I can certainly do my share, whether it’s picking up buffalo chips or cooking or walking with the team. As a matter of fact, the responsibility is mine—all of it.”

“Not anymore it isn’t,” Finn said gruffly. “You’re going to have a man to take care of you, Jessica. I’m planning on it being me.”

“I thought I had a choice in this,” she said smartly. “Gage Morgan is interested in me. And I’ve had several other of the men looking my way.”

“And you wouldn’t take on any of them,” Finn told her. “Maybe Morgan, in a pinch. But I’d rather you didn’t consider him, either.” His jaw was taut and his eyes blazed with an icy fire. “I want to marry you, Jessica. It isn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing with me. I’ve been committing the sin of looking at a married woman with desire in my heart for the past—”

“Stop it, Finn Carson,” she said, cutting his declaration short. “I don’t want to hear this. It makes me feel like you’ve been waiting for something to happen to Lyle so you could come courting me.”

“No, I didn’t wish him dead,” Finn told her firmly. “But I sure as hell wished he wasn’t your husband. The man didn’t deserve you, Jessica.”

She snatched at the burlap bag and stalked away, heading for the team, the pair of them standing with their heads down waiting for the signal to leave. Finn’s admission was honest, she’d give him that. And he was right—it was a sin to be looking at another man’s wife. Look what that sort of shenanigans got poor King David in the Bible.

Jessica laughed beneath her breath. She was no Bathsheba, that was for sure. But she’d be willing to bet that an offer from Finn Carson was as good as she’d ever come by in this lifetime. The man was prime. Golden hair that tempted her fingers to measure its silky length, and blue eyes that touched her with tenderness.

“Can I walk with you?” Arlois approached, her own bag in hand, and Jessica smiled a welcome.

“It looks like we’ve been given the job of gathering up tonight’s fuel for the fires,” she said, holding her own bag at arm’s length.

Arlois wrinkled her nose. “I’d think firewood would be the better choice,” she said. “I told David that handling buffalo dung was not my idea of fun, and he told me he’d give me fun after dark tonight.”

Jessica laughed softly, a yearning for the sort of happiness Arlois shared with her David sweeping over her. She’d heard their murmurs as they walked outside the circle of wagons on occasion, had noted David’s possessive gaze on his wife, had seen his hand reach for Arlois as they sat by the fire at night. They had two children, and yet there was a shine about them that made her think they still resembled newlyweds.

She’d had little of that sort of affection with Lyle. Maybe with Finn, she thought. And in her mind’s eye she could envision his hand enclosing hers, imagine his body sheltering her from the wind.

“Jessica?” Arlois peered at her. “Did I upset you, talking that way about David? I wasn’t thinking.” Her cheeks blushed crimson, as if she regretted her impetuous remark. “I forgot for a minute about Lyle…about him being gone.” She faltered and then leaned closer to hug Jessica.

“Do you miss him at all?” she asked. “I mean, I know he wasn’t a very kind man, but he was your husband—and I’m just rattling on like an idiot, aren’t I?”

Jessica stifled a laugh. “You’re not an idiot,” she said, admonishing Arlois. “And you’re right about Lyle. He wasn’t very kind to anyone, least of all me. We were married, but never close the way you are with David, or Geraldine is with Harvey.”

Arlois squeezed her tightly for a second and then stepped back. “Well then, I won’t apologize for being so blunt. I think you’d be better off with any one of the other bachelors than you were with Lyle.” She grinned. “Although I’m partial to Finn Carson, if the truth be known.” And then her eyes widened and she groaned.

“Here comes another suitor, Jessica. And this one is scary. I’m not sure what there is about Mr. Morgan, but he’s a little frightening if you ask me.” She set out at a fast pace. “I’m going to do a roundabout for a while, see if I can fill my bag and make David happy.” With a wave of her hand at the approaching horseman, she walked at an angle, joining several other women who were scanning the ground on either side of the train for fuel for tonight’s supper fires.

“Mrs. Beaumont.” Gage Morgan slid from his gelding and held the reins in one hand, then closed the gap until he walked apace with Jessica. “I thought I’d check on you and see if there’s anything I can do to lend a hand.” He gestured toward her bag. “I see you’re going foraging this afternoon. Maybe I can bring you some wood from our stockpile instead,” he offered.

“I doubt your partners would appreciate you sharing their supply,” Jessica said. “I don’t mind gathering chips.”

He nodded, as if he accepted her refusal of his offer, and then took her arm. “I made you a walking stick,” he said. “I hope you have use for it. I thought I’d ask first and then bring it by later if you like.”

She looked down at his hand, and he grimaced and released her elbow, murmuring a soft apology. “I’m sorry if I offended you,” he said nicely. “Perhaps I’ll stop by the wagon and get the stick now. It will make it easier for you, I think.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” she said, unwilling to be rude, yet not wanting to be beholden to the man in any way. His gaze touched her again, dark and shuttered, as if he saw within her and could know her thoughts. His next words supported that theory, she decided.

“I wonder what there is about me that frightens you,” he said quietly. “I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to cause you alarm, have I?”

She shook her head. “No, of course not. I’m not easily frightened, Mr. Morgan.”

“I’m sure,” he said agreeably. “But nevertheless, I’d like to get to know you a little better, ma’am. But I don’t want to be pushy or infringe on your grief.”

Jessica met his gaze head-on. “I’m not grieving, Mr. Morgan. My marriage was not a happy one, as you have probably already guessed.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug as she continued. “I’ve decided that life must go on, no matter what.”

“Then would my proposal to you be out of line?” he asked. “I’d like you to consider marrying me, ma’am. I know that Jonas McMasters has given you a choice of either marrying one of the single men of the group, or leaving the train in Council Grove and going back East.”

“News travels fast, doesn’t it?” She picked up her pace, feeling a flush paint her cheeks at his words. “I feel as if I’m up on an auction block, Mr. Morgan, and I’m not enjoying it one little bit.”

“You’re a good-looking woman,” he said bluntly. “I’d be foolish if I didn’t throw my hat in the ring. I won’t be the only one trying to persuade you into a wedding ring.”

“And you have a ring handy?” she asked, glancing at him skeptically.

“I’ll come up with something,” he told her. “If I have to buy one from one of the ladies on the train, I will.”

“I doubt any of the married women would give up their wedding band for my sake,” she said. “I wouldn’t wear someone else’s, anyway. I’d rather go without.”

“That’s all right with me,” he said. “The ring isn’t the important thing.”

“I’ll be very blunt with you, sir,” she said after a moment. “I have two weeks to make up my mind. I’ve already had one offer, and I’m considering it carefully. I’ll put your name in the hat and let you know my answer.”

“I can do more for you than Finn Carson,” he said harshly.

“Really?” She looked at him, saw the flash of anger he hid with lowered lashes and felt a shiver of awareness spin the length of her spine. She’d been wrong. There was an element of fear in her that responded to this man’s presence. Relief flooded her as he turned aside and mounted his horse. The nod he tossed in her direction was quick and his horse spun from her, its rider obviously holding a tight rein.

She walked alone for several minutes and then heard Arlois’s call as the other woman hastened to catch up. “Wait for me, Jessica.”

With a look over her shoulder, Jessica stepped to one side, allowing her team to plod ahead, and Arlois joined her, breathless from her hasty jaunt. “David is sending Joshua to walk by your team for a while,” Arlois said. “Let’s climb inside and rest for a few minutes.”

Even as she announced her idea, Joshua, a cheerful youth of perhaps thirteen years, took Jessica’s place by the lead ox. Arlois gripped Jessica’s arm and together they paced the wagon for a few minutes, then climbed into the back as it lumbered over the rutted road. Weaving their way through the assorted barrels and boxes inside, they gained the front and shared the wide plank seat.

“Whew!” With relief, Arlois untied her sunbonnet and lifted it from her hair. “I’m about tired out. That sun is really beating down today.” The breeze teased the few locks that had escaped her braid and they curled over her forehead, giving her a youthful look, Jessica thought. The woman had become a good friend over the past weeks, ever present when help was needed, offering an ear and reserving judgment.

Now she looked as though her curiosity was about to burst the boundaries of good taste, and Jessica took pity on her. “No, I didn’t accept the man’s proposal,” she said with a laugh. “Not that he wasn’t persuasive. He even offered to buy a wedding ring for me from one of the ladies on the train.”

“He didn’t!” Arlois was caught between laughter and disgust, it seemed, and she made a face. “As if any decent woman would sell her wedding ring.” She tilted her head to one side. “Not unless her children were starving, or some idiot offered an outrageous amount.” Her laughter won out, and Jessica joined in.

“I needed that,” she whispered, wiping her eyes as her giggles subsided. “The man is handsome and even a bit dashing, but pompous doesn’t begin to describe him. He told me he could do more for me than Finn Carson, as if he were offering to buy my affections.” She considered that idea. “I think he’d want more from me than I could offer,” she said quietly, her humor retreating as she recalled the man’s anger.

“How about the other bachelors?” Arlois asked in a teasing manner.

“Most of them are still wet behind the ears, as well you know,” Jessica said, “and the rest haven’t had a bath since we left Independence.”

“Speaking of which,” Arlois said, her voice rising as if she announced something of tremendous import. “We’re going to be crossing a nice shallow creek in the morning, David said. Instead of dabbing around in a bucket, we’ll be able to wash clothes and get ourselves clean all over while we’re waiting to cross over. Maybe even by tonight, he said.”

Jessica would warrant that the creek ahead of them was the surprise Finn had spoken of this morning. Just the thought of fresh, cool, running water made Jessica’s heart beat faster. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” she said, already plotting her strategy. “Maybe we can gather up all the ladies and go as a group.”

“Not unless we have some menfolk to watch out for us,” Arlois said sharply. “I wouldn’t put it past those scruffy young miners to sneak up and take a peek if they got the chance. I doubt David would let me go without him tagging along.” Her eyes lit with mischief. “Of course, he’s liable to sneak a peek himself.”

Jessica felt a tinge of envy as Arlois spoke of her good-looking husband. She’d never had such rapport with Lyle, but the prospect might be feasible with a man such a Finn. It was a prize to be considered in the gamble she was considering.

The thought of Gage Morgan’s eyes on her naked body was enough to send goose bumps traveling the length of her frame. In fact, the idea of any man catching a glimpse of her swollen belly and oversize bosom was enough to make her shudder with dread.

Even Finn? The thought rattled her and she closed her eyes. She could almost imagine his warm gaze sliding over her, his callused palms curving beneath her breasts.

“Jessica?” Beside her, Arlois spoke her name and Jessica’s eyelids flew open. “Are you all right? You looked so funny there for a minute. You’re not having any pains, are you?”

Jessica shook her head and dredged up a smile. Not pain, she thought. But an aching void that would only be filled by the tender care and attention of a man—though not just any man would do. Her choice was as good as made.

Even though Gage would yet pursue her, Finn Carson had already won the race.