«Yes.»
«Even so, ma’am, you’re looking hard used at the moment. I hope your husband’s wrong about the passes opening soon. You could use a few nights of sleep.»
Jessica smiled reassuringly, though she knew she would sleep no better in the coming night than she had any night since the terrible argument with Wolfe.
He had not relented one bit. No matter how hard she tried to be a good companion, he still treated her as an enemy, or worse, as a traitor who had betrayed him.
«My husband assures me the passes are open,» Jessica said.
«Has he talked to one of the gold hunters?»
«No. He watched the peaks all the way from his — our — home. When the new snow melted back up the slopes so quickly, he said the pass would be open by the time we were ready to leave Canyon City.»
«He’s certain?»
Jessica slantedRafe an odd glance. «You met Wolfe. Did he strike you as an indecisive sort?» Shaking his head, Rafe laughed, remembering the uncanny precision of Wolfe’s rifle work, men falling like dropped cards, one after another, with no break in the relentless rhythm of Wolfe’s shots.
«No, ma’am. That’s one hard man you married.»
Jessica’s smile thinned and turned upside down.
«Don’t take me wrong,» Rafe continued. «I meant no insult. In wild country, a hard man is the best kind, whether it be for a husband, a brother, or a friend.»
Rafe looked out the window again. The group of men who had been lounging in front of one of the three saloons on the main street had drifted over to the wagon, where a sidesaddle was perched on top of a sack of grain.
«Ma’am, is your husband in the saloon?»
«No. He has a rather low opinion of the local whiskey.»
«Smart man. Matt had almost as many warnings about Taos lightning as he did about theUtes.»
«Matt?»
«Matthew Moran.» When Jessica looked thoughtful, Rafe added, «Maybe you’ve heard the name?»
«I’m not sure.»
«How about Caleb Black? His friends call him Cal.»
«Ah, yes,» Jessica said with soft bitterness, «that name I’ve heard. The blasted paragon.»
«I wouldn’t know,» Rafe said, amused. «I’ve never met the man.»
«Not Caleb. His wife. She’s a paragon, Wolfe assures me.»
«Must be the wrong Caleb Black, then. Willy was a lot of things, but a paragon wasn’t among them.»
«Willy?»
«Willow Moran. At least, she used to be a Moran. Now she’s Willow Black.»
Jessica’s mouth curved into a rueful smile. «PoorRafe. You’ve had a long stage ride and a bullet wound for nothing. The paragon is already wed.»
«It’s not what you think.»Rafe settled his battered hat onto his head with a tug. «Willy is my sister.»
«Uh-oh.» Jessica flushed. «I’m sorry. I meant no insult to her. That is, I — oh, blazes, when will I learn to bridle my galloping tongue?»
«Don’t worry,» Rafe said kindly. «Willy would laugh as hard as anyone at the thought of being a paragon. She’s as sassy as they come. But, Lord, can that girl cook. I’d go halfway around the world for some of her biscuits.» He grinned. «In fact, I did.»
«It appears thepara — er, your sister-and I have something in common.»
«Biscuits?»
«In a manner of speaking. Wolfe has traveled half the earth and talked of little else but my biscuits in comparison to Willow’s.»
Rafe’sgray eyes lit with inner laughter. «Don’t feel bad about your own cooking, ma’am. Bride’s biscuits are famous the world over.»
«Mine are infamous. EvenMessr. Skunk turned up his pointy black nose at them.»
Rafetried not to show his amusement, but the thought of a skunk passing up food was too much. He threw back his head and laughed.
Jessica smiled up at him with real pleasure. It was good to hear a man’s laughter and know there was one soul in the West who enjoyed her company. Then her smile faded as she remembered how she once had been able to amuse Wolfe. Once, but no longer. Now all he wanted from her was the sight of her back as she walked out of his life.
«Don’t look so down, Red — er, Mrs.Lonetree,» Rafe corrected quickly.
«Please call me Red,» she said, sighing, «or Jessica orJessi or whatever suits.»
«Thank you.»
«No thanks are necessary. If no one out here wants his family name known, it stands to reason nicknames and Christian names would be used instead. One must, after all, call others something.»
Rafe’ssmiled faded as he looked out the window. A familiar tension stole through his body. He had spent enough time in rough places with rougher men to know that trouble was afoot.
The men standing around theLonetree wagon were part of the crowds of drifters, outlaws, and prospectors who had gathered in Canyon City to await the opening of the passes. Lust for gold ran through the men, but there was nothing they could do about that lust for the moment. So they talked about women waiting for them with white thighs spread, and they drank, and they bullied people less coarse than themselves.
The crowd outside had been getting rowdier with each drink from the bottle that was being passed around. WhenRafe had passed them on the way to the store, he had heard their speculations on the subject of fancy foreign ladies, and if they had a special way of riding their men as well as riding their horses.Rafe doubted that the men’s thoughts had become loftier with each passage of the bottle.
«Mrs.Lonetree —»
«That’s too formal,» she insisted softly.
Rafelooked away from the window. «All right, Red. Don’t go back to the wagon unless your husband is with you.»
«Why?»
«The men out there are drunk. They aren’t used to decent women.»
«I see.» Jessica sighed. «I have a few more purchases to make, in any case.»
Silently, Rafe accompanied her down the counters loaded with dry goods.
«Perhaps you could help me,» she said after a few moments. «I’ve never bought clothes already made. Does this look the right size?»
Rafestared in disbelief at the Levis she was holding up.
«Ma’am, I doubt that your husband could get one of his arms in those, much less a leg.»
She smiled. «I was thinking of myself, not Wolfe.»
Rafemade an odd sound as he measured the size of the denims and the delicate girl whose quality shone through her travel-rumpled clothes.
«That cloth is much too harsh for someone like you,» he said simply.
Jessica slantedRafe a sideways look and saw that he wasn’t teasing. He truly thought she was as delicate as she looked.
«You would be amazed at how sturdy I really am,» she said mildly.
After shaking out the Levis, Jessica held them against her waist. The legs fell to the floor and beyond.
«Blast.»
She put back the Levis and rummaged for yet smaller ones. In time she found a pair that had been cut for a boy rather than a man. She held them up. She suspected they would be too loose in the waist and frankly snug in the hips. On the other hand, they were the smallest Levis she had yet found.
«Would you hold these for me?» she asked, handing over the Levis toRafe.
He accepted them without a word and watched with increasing amusement while Jessica rummaged among the shirts for one that might possibly be small enough. He was still smiling indulgently when he sensed a presence behind his back. He turned around and saw WolfeLonetree standing there, measuring him for a shroud.
«Rafe, what do you think of — oh, good, you’re back,» Jessica said, holding out a shirt to Wolfe. «What do you think of this?»
«Too small by half.»
The clipped tones of Wolfe’s voice brought Jessica’s head up. She looked at him and sensed the anger that blazed just beneath his impassive surface.
«I rather thought it was too large,» she muttered, measuring her arm against the sleeve.
Abruptly, Wolfe realized that Jessica was buying clothes for herself. «Your ladyship, we already have enough clothes for two packhorses. In any case, I won’t have you parading your limbs like a saloon girl throughout the West.»