When they were alone, Tim looked at Alex in warning. “You touch me again and I’ll . . . I’ll . . .”
Alex gave him such a hard look that Tim didn’t finish his sentence.
With one more suspicious look, Tim went inside the tent.
Alex was tempted to stay outside the rest of the night, but a mosquito bit him on the neck and as he slapped at it, he entered the tent. Tim was already asleep, and Alex heard what Eli meant when he referred to Tim’s snoring. The boy made a wheezing sound when he drew breath in, and it came out in a high-pitched whistle. At first, the sound made Alex smile. He’d been hearing it since they’d started the trip, but he’d thought it was a night bird. Now that he knew what poor Eli’d had to put up with for the entire trip, he wondered how the man had managed.
The next morning, when Alex got up as tired as when he’d gone to bed, he was no longer smiling.
“Best night’s sleep I’ve had since we started on this trip,” Eli said as he poured coffee into tin mugs and handed them around. “Not once did I wake up from hearing whistles and wheezes.” He slapped Cay on the shoulder so hard she nearly fell off the log she was sitting on. “I tell you, boy, you’re the quietest sleeper I ever met. If I could just find a woman that quiet, I’d marry her in a minute.”
Alex was sitting across from them and glowering at Cay, but she was ignoring him.
“Are you looking for a wife?” Cay asked Eli.
“I told Mr. Grady before we left that this is my last time on one of his gadabouts. In fact, I said I didn’t want to go on this one, but he begged me. ‘I can’t go without you, Eli,’ he said. ‘Especially not on this trip.’”
Alex looked at Cay to make sure she understood the significance of what Eli was saying. It was as though he was admitting that Grady, somehow, knew about Cay, and about Alex, too. They were to reach the trading post in just three days, and there they’d get horses and go riding south rather than on the flatboat. Alex couldn’t help but wonder what would be waiting for them at the post. A sheriff with handcuffs?
But Cay wouldn’t look at Alex, didn’t acknowledge his hint to her. Her attention was on Eli. “I think I have the perfect wife for you.”
“Do you?” Eli asked, his voice interested.
“I don’t think that now is the time—” Alex began, meaning to cut her off. If, by chance, they didn’t know she was female, her matchmaking would give her away for sure.
Again, Cay paid no attention to him. “She’s Uncle T.C.’s goddaughter.”
“Miss Hope?” Eli asked, his eyes wide in wonder.
“Then you know her?”
“I had the pleasure of her company on one instance when I was with Mr. Grady. A very handsome young woman.”
“Then you know about . . .” Cay hesitated.
“Her leg? I do. But have you tasted that woman’s apple pie?” Eli was dousing the breakfast fire. “I always wondered why a fine lady like her wasn’t married.”
“Then I take it you haven’t met her father.”
“T.C.?”
“Ah,” Cay said, “I see that gossip travels well. No, I meant the man who was married to Hope’s mother, Bathsheba.”
“You mean Isaac Chapman.” There was no mistaking the dislike in Eli’s voice. “He once cheated me out of nearly a hundred dollars. When he dies, the devil will be richer.”
“What did you do when you found out that he’d stolen money from you?” Cay’s voice was curious.
“I’m ashamed to say that I hit him in the face, but then I took him to court, where I defended myself, and I won. The judge made him pay me back the money, pay the lawyer’s fee, plus give me another ten pounds for all my trouble.”
“Well done!” Cay stood up. “I think you’ll do nicely. Hope asked me to bring her back a husband who could stand up to her father, and it looks like you can.”
“Isaac Chapman won’t let me marry his daughter,” Eli said.
“Yes, he will. After I tell Hope about you, she’ll make him agree,” Cay said. “Oh, but there’s something special she asked for.”
Eli snorted, as though to say he knew there’d be a catch. “She’ll want a young, handsome man like Alex here, not an old duffer like me.”
“Hope asked for a man who wouldn’t fall asleep on his wedding night.”