Oh dear.
She nodded, took the branches, and left. Her ears buzzed with his chuckle as she walked away.
Another overconfident man. She’d had enough of those types. Her father had been a charmer, until it came time to raise his daughter after her
mama died. Then he dumped her on Aunt Martha and took off.
She snorted. And James! He, too, exuded charm and good looks. And where did that get her? Engaged to a man who’d practically left her at the altar. No, never again. Aunt Martha was right. Men were a pain in the neck, and not to be trusted.
Jesse Cochran concentrated on the woman’s swaying hips as she walked off with her head held high. A pretty little thing, she didn’t even come up to his chin. Lots of curves, no bag of bones, that woman, something for a man to hold onto. Four kids! He whistled through his teeth. How the heck did she plan to make the run dragging four kids with her? He shrugged. Glad he didn’t have to deal with that problem.
Sunlight just about gone, he might as well do with some jerky and cold beans for supper, since there’d be no fire. He stretched and rolled his neck muscles. Tomorrow would be an important day. A fresh start, away from everything he wanted to put behind him.
He smiled as he headed back to camp. The woman with the kids, who’d claimed no husband—thank you very much—continued to occupy his thoughts.
Large brown eyes behind wire-rimmed spectacles made a man think he could see to her very soul. Full lips, kissable. He scowled. Pity, she made it quite clear his charm hadn’t done anything for her. All right with him. He didn’t come here to be distracted by a pretty face.
He whistled a familiar tune as he dished up some beans. As he forked a spoonful of supper into his mouth, he pursed his lips. Cold beans. What he wouldn’t give for a nice hot meal. But he’d done it to himself. Giving away his only fuel. As he ate, thoughts of the feisty woman sashaying away with his firewood ignited his pulse. Yeah, he wouldn’t be forgetting her anytime soon.
Tori sat by the campfire hugging her cup of coffee, the low buzz of conversation all around her. Excitement for tomorrow’s run sizzled in the air. She yawned and stretched, balancing the almost empty cup in her hand. She doubted she would get much sleep tonight. Rachel, Ellie, and Hunter had gone to bed a while ago, making do with blankets on the damp ground since the wagon still perched on a tree stump. They would probably all have pneumonia before they could even start the run.
Michael rolled the wheel over to the wagon, and leaned it against the stump. Shoulders drooping, he walked over and hunkered down next to her.
“Sorry, I couldn’t find anyone to fix the wheel.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Every blacksmith in Arkansas City is overloaded with work, and those who were willing to do it wanted too much money.”
“Oh, no,” she said, pushing her spectacles back up the bridge of her nose. “What will we do now?”
Michael shrugged, and a long, thoughtful silence followed as they both stared into the fire.
“I wonder if taking the wagon on the run is a good idea.” Sparks flew in the chilled night air as she poked at the embers.
“I didn’t want to tell you, but that’s pretty much what I heard all afternoon while I tried to get the wheel fixed.” He stretched his arms out to warm his hands. “There are plenty of wagons making the run, most of them for farmland, but it’s not the fastest way to go, and they’re in much better shape than this one, even before the wheel broke.”
“What if I made the run myself on one of the horses?” She glanced sideways at him.
Michael stared at her, grim-faced. “No. I mean, it sounds like a good idea, but I’ll do it.” He poured the last of the coffee in his cup. “A woman shouldn’t be racing with a bunch of men for a piece of land.”
His words rattled, a boy telling her what women should and shouldn’t do. “There’s no reason why I can’t make the run.” She set her coffee on the rock next to her and crossed her arms over her chest. “I can ride and shoot as well as any man.”
Michael’s head jerked at her harsh words. “I’m hoping there won’t be any shooting going on, and I know you can ride as well as any man. But it’s not proper for a woman to be racing around with a bunch of men, her skirts flying after her.”
“Michael Henderson, I don’t need my sixteen-year-old nephew telling me what is and isn’t proper behavior. If I decide to do the run myself, then I will do it myself.” She clamped her lips in a firm line.
Michael shrugged his shoulders, avoiding her gaze. “Is there anything left to eat?”
She sighed. It wouldn’t do to take her general disgust with men out on her nephew. “I saved you a plate of beans and some bread. I’ll get it for you. Go ahead and wash up.”
While Michael readied for supper, and made his disapproval known by eating in silence, different ideas kept running through her mind. Finally she snapped her fingers. “I know what I’ll do. I’ll disguise myself as a man.”
He stared at her as if she was crazy. “Do you think you can do that?” He spoke around a mouthful of beans.
“Sure I can. I’ll borrow some of your clothes, and put my hair up. With a hat over it, no one will know.” She warmed to the idea. She could do this.
“Ah, Tori.” He cleared his throat. “What about, your ah, you know?” He waved in the general direction of his chest.
She smiled. “I’ll have Rachel help bind me.”
Flames from the fire highlighted the deep red flush on his cheeks before he sprang to his feet. “I’m turning in now. See you in the morning.”