Carolyn Davidson (20 page)

“You drive the wagon, Carl,” Will said. “I’ll ride on ahead and see if I can get the doctor out of bed. He still live in the same place?”

“Yeah, across from the parsonage.” Carl tied the horse
he had ridden to the back of the wagon and swung up onto the seat.

“I’ll be bringin’ your wagon back later on today,” he shouted, aiming his words at the old man, who nodded his understanding. “I’ll be takin’ it easy, Miss Josie,” he said, speaking to her over his shoulder.

“Just hurry,” she croaked, her hands performing their task with tender care, fearful of hurting the torn flesh as she washed the dirt and blood from Jeremiah’s face. She bent low to brush her lips against his, and her whisper was caught and held as his lips moved against hers.

“I love you, Jeremiah. Do you hear me? I love you.”

The answer was a groan, so deep and so tortured she wept afresh. “Hush, hush, sweetheart,” she sobbed, her tears falling to mix with the water, bathing him with the evidence of her distress.

The doctor was out on a call, delivering a baby, his wife told Will, but she would send him out to the farm as soon as he returned. His mouth grim, Will rode from town, the wagon not far behind.

The sun was well above the treetops east of the farmhouse as Cassie, watching from the front door, sighted the big stallion coming down the road. “He’s coming back!” she called, running to the kitchen. “Will’s coming up the lane right now.”

“The bed’s ready upstairs,” Clara told her quietly. “I’ve got Maggie sleeping on the couch. Guess we’re about as ready as we’ll ever be, in case they’ve found them.”

“You’re lookin’ for the worst, aren’t you?” Cassie asked bleakly.

Clara lifted her shoulders in a gesture that spoke of defeat. “Whether they’re dead or injured when they get them
here, we might as well be ready. We’ll either be tending to them or layin’ ’em out for the preacher.”

Cassie shuddered as she ran to the porch, watching as Will slid from his horse. “Will?” Her cry was pleading as she clung to him. He patted her back and bent to kiss her, then drew her even closer, as if he drew comfort from the softness that warmed him.

“He’s alive, Cass. Josie’s all right. She wasn’t hurt much, just shook up.” As he led Cassie into the kitchen, his gaze sought that of his mother.

“We’ll need hot water and rags to clean him up. Some salve, probably. We’ll have to go ahead and do our best. Doc is out on a call. Hard telling when he’ll be here.” At his mother’s nod of assent, he headed for the pantry. “You got any whiskey in here, Ma?”

“Top shelf, way in the back,” she called. “You gonna douse him with it or pour it down him?”

Will’s voice was muted, coming from the narrow pantry just off the kitchen. “Probably both. We’ll need to strip off his clothes to find out just how bad he’s banged up.”

“They’re coming now,” Cassie said from her post at the door. “Sheriff’s driving at a pretty good clip, Will. You want me to look for the whiskey while you go on out and help with Jeremiah?”

His tall figure appeared at the pantry door, his fingers clasped around the neck of a bottle. “No, I found it.” He handed it to Cassie as he passed her. “Take everything on upstairs, Cass. We’ll be bringing him up right away.”

Chairs were brought from the dining room as the family gathered for supper. Eben and Samuel were unusually silent, filling their plates with ferocious intent, as if piling the food high and then eating it with gusto would somehow vent their anger.

Elizabeth and Louise were in the sickroom, taking a turn while the family ate together. Josie was a reluctant participant in the meal, unwilling to leave her husband but aware of her need for food. The three little boys preened under their grandmother’s attention, and Clara bestowed it.

It was a true gathering of the clan, Cassie thought as she refilled a bowl with mashed potatoes. She’d barely eaten, choosing to wait on the others. Her stomach had been churning all day.

The cruelty dealt to Jeremiah was not to be believed, although the menfolk had brushed aside the bruises and small cuts. Only the sore ribs had caused their eyes to darken with anger, when Josie told how one of the ranch hands had kicked Jeremiah as he lay on the barn floor, unconscious.

Eben waved his fork in the air, punctuating his words. “You sure you know the whole list of them, Will? Has the sheriff got them in jail?”

Will shook his head. “No, can’t see that there’s any need for that. Devlin Bartlett’s boy came clean when we caught the bunch of them red-handed in the livery stable. Can’t figure how they thought they’d get away with it.”

“Josie said they were wearing masks when they grabbed her,” Cassie volunteered, filling Will’s cup with steaming hot coffee as she spoke.

“They’re too damn young to know when to go to ground.” Samuel reached for another piece of chicken as his scornful words labeled the bunch of troublemakers. “Ain’t one of them dry behind the ears, and that’s the truth.”

Will stabbed a chicken leg and delivered it to Matthew’s plate. “If they hadn’t been standin’ around braggin’ over at John Hogan’s place, we’d likely have had to do a heap of lookin’ for them.”

“What will happen now?” Cassie asked, sliding into her chair. She tasted the beans on her plate and chewed slowly, thinking of the man upstairs who would not be eating for a couple of days, from the looks of him.

“They’ll all appear before the judge. Probably pay a fine.” Will’s succinct words were tinged with bitterness. “Whatever the judge decides, it won’t be enough in my book.”

Clara rose, collecting her plate and silverware as she headed for the sink. “Well, we knew the town wouldn’t accept this marriage. Folks thought it was bad enough that we’d taken up with a half-breed. When Josie showed up at the church yesterday with him, it ruffled a lot of feathers.”

“He’s our kin now, Ma.” Eben spoke the words with conviction, earning a look of pure gratitude from his sister.

“We’ll be doing his chores till he’s back on his feet, Will,” Samuel said.

“No need. I can handle most of it, and Josie’s good with the colts.” Will ruffled the hair of Mark, sitting next to him, sending a warning look at his brothers. “Guess we’ve about talked the whole thing to death, anyway. Time to feed the stock and get the cows milked.”

“Uncle Will, can I help?” Matthew asked, gnawing at the last of his chicken leg. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he pushed his chair back from the table and stood beside his uncle. “I like Many Fingers. I’ll help do his work.”

Josie shot the boy a quick smile. “He’d appreciate that, Matthew. And if you like, you can call him Jeremiah from now on. Since the men from town relieved him of the extra finger, the name doesn’t fit anymore.”

Cassie’s stomach rolled and she bolted from the kitchen, her feet fairly flying as she left the porch, heading for the outhouse. Barely had she cleared the small building’s doorway when the contents of her stomach came up. She
retched, her throat straining as she shuddered. From behind her, Will’s hands circled her waist, holding her on her feet till she was finished, and then he offered her his handkerchief.

“That was the last straw,” she said hoarsely. “You didn’t tell me they’d done that”

“You didn’t have to know.” Will wiped at her mouth, taking the cloth from her trembling fingers. “It’s okay, honey. He even tried to laugh about it. Said no one would be standin’ around countin’ his fingers anymore.”

“I’ll bet Josie didn’t laugh,” Cassie said with a grimace, thinking of Josie’s tender feelings. “She really feels responsible.”

“Well, she’s not. Jeremiah didn’t put up a fuss at first, for fear of involving Maggie. They had Josie, and he said he figured he’d take a beating rather than have them hurt her.”

“Will his hand be all right?” Cassie asked.

“Yeah, it oughta be. Josie sure shed enough tears over it when she bandaged it. We gobbed a mess of stuff on it. Jeremiah told us what to use and then Josie wrapped it up.”

Cassie leaned against her husband, having gained the outside of the privy. “Will he be all right?”

Will circled her waist with his arm and led her toward the house. “Yeah, as all right as we can make him. Doc said we’d done as much as he could have. The ribs are the worst of it. He’ll be takin’ short breaths for a while. His face might have some interesting-lookin’ marks on it, but once the swelling goes down, he’ll be all right.”

From the house a swell of voices rose as Eben and Samuel joked with the little boys, and Cassie’s frown eased. “Family is wonderful, isn’t it, Will? They all showed up to let Jeremiah know he isn’t alone in this.”

“Well, from what Doc said, the town is pretty much in
an uproar, too,” Will told her. “In fact, we’re supposed to be gettin’ some visitors before nightfall.”

“Maybe before then,” Cassie said, pointing at a cloud of dust across the pasture, where the road to town edged the wooden fence.

“Well, I’ll be! Looks like Ma better add some coffee grounds to the pot. We got company comin’,” Will announced, nudging Cassie into a quickstep as they neared the porch.

“Don’t you think I should take a turn sitting with him?” Cassie moved indecisively, looking toward the door, then back at the bed where Will was propped against the headboard. Her fingers fiddled with the sash of her robe, pleating the ends and twining them around her hand as she thought of the man across the hallway.

“He’s got Josie over there and, trust me, sweetheart, you’d only be in the way. I’ll bet she’s all curled around him and whisperin’ in his ear and makin’ him wish he didn’t hurt so bad.” Though his words were teasing, Will’s eyes held a shadow of sorrow.

It was enough to decide her, and Cassie’s fingers were swift as she untied the belt and cast the robe across the foot of their bed. One knee pressing into the mattress next to Will, she leaned to kiss him. “You hurt for him, don’t you?” she asked quietly, her hands resting on his shoulders as she turned to fit herself on his lap.

“I brought him here, honey. I should have known what might happen. Especially after I knew how he felt about Josie.”

“It was Josie’s choice,” she reminded him. “Jeremiah didn’t drag her off kicking and screaming, you know.”

“I know. But even with that whole delegation from town
coming out here, there’ll still be those that’ll look down their noses.”

Cassie nodded. “Maybe. But did you ever see such a sorry sight as those boys trying to apologize with their daddies nudging them along? The preacher’s son looked to be walking a bit carefully, didn’t you think? I’ll bet his daddy laid him low.”

Will grinned. “He wasn’t the only one caught hell. I suspect there was some thrashin’ goin’ on in town today.”

Cassie shivered at the thought. “I don’t like anybody getting hurt, Will, but if those boys caught it from their folks, they deserved every lick. I just wish those two cowhands of Mr. Barnwell’s hadn’t managed to skip out the way they did.”

He smiled down at her, his lips curving in a satisfactory manner. “From what I hear, they got escorted to the county line, and neither one of ‘em was in much shape to do more than try to sit upright in a saddle. Sheriff Mosley managed to be busy elsewheres this afternoon, and a whole passel of men formed a vigilante committee of sorts.”

“That isn’t legal, is it, Will?”

His shrug was eloquent. “It appears they were eggin’ on the town boys, kind of rigged the whole thing. Seems to me they about got what they had comin’.”

His arms full of soft curves, Will eased her gown up her legs as he spoke. “Those young fellas from town aren’t all bad. They just got caught up in something and then felt like they had to go along with the crowd. From what the preacher’s boy said, those two hands of Barnwell’s did the most of the damage.”

“How’d they know to look in the bunkhouse for them, anyway?” Cassie asked, lifting her body to allow the removal of her gown, her mouth against Will’s throat as she spoke.

“The preacher talked about it at the dinner table and his son repeated the story in the saloon later on.”

“The preacher’s son was in the saloon?” Cassie’s eyes widened with surprise.

“Pretty near broke his mama’s heart, from what I hear tell,” Will said.

“Your mother’s pretty lucky, isn’t she?”

“Not nearly as lucky as I am.” His mouth settled on hers with a damp caress and he groaned his satisfaction as her lips moved to accommodate him.

Within moments the gown she’d barely warmed with the heat of her body was on the floor and Will had managed to deposit her beneath the sheet, next to him. In moments, Cassie was covered by the long, lean form of the man she’d married. Muscles honed by hours of hard work flexed beneath her palms as she slid her hands beneath his shirt.

“I’d like it better if you took this thing off,” she whispered against his mouth.

“I ‘spect I could manage that,” he said agreeably, rising to kneel between her legs, taking the covers with him.

“Will!” Her protest was muffled as she glanced at the door, fearful of being overheard. “I’m cold!”

His grin was wolfish as he shed the offending shirt, lowering himself once more to cover her. “You’ll notice I already took off the bottoms,” he said against her ear.

“I noticed.” Her hips rose against him. “Are you going to turn out the light, Will?”

He shook his head. “Nope. I kinda like watchin’ you, Cass.”

Her eyes closed. “Don’t embarrass me.”

“Nothing we do in the name of love is embarrassing, honey,” he whispered, his mouth seeking the soft curve of her throat. “I just like the sweet look you get when our bodies join. Sorta like you’re welcoming me home.”

Such tenderness was more than she could deny. Cassie’s hands covered the back of his head as he nuzzled against her. “We’re both home, Will. When I’m in your arms, I feel for the first time in my life like I have a home. After all those years…”

He lifted himself to meet her gaze, rising on his elbows. “This is fine, isn’t it, Cass? This being married, having a baby. It’s almost too good to be true. Even with the trouble…you know, with Josie and Jeremiah, life is just about perfect, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “Just about, Will. Just about.”

“I
didn’t know a body could feel so glum about…” Clara’s voice trailed off, her demeanor totally at odds with her usual cheerful self. Shoulders slumped, she sat at the table, nursing a cup of breakfast coffee, one hand at her forehead.

“I think feeling glum over shooting a man dead is pretty much what anyone would expect.” Cassie paused in peeling a potato to peer anxiously at her mother-in-law. “I think you need to consider what would have happened if Jeremiah had been the one to put Bennett Percival in a grave. We’d probably be doing without a husband for Josie and a new father for Maggie. Not to mention Will having to run the whole place on his own.”

Clara nodded agreeably. “Oh, I’ve told myself all that. In fact, I’ve decided I did the whole world a heap of good when I pulled those triggers. But saying it doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Cassie’s heart twisted within her and her sensible self chided her for what she was about to say. Impulsive as she was, she’d probably rue the moment, once she thought it over, but if ever a woman needed some hard truths delivered, Clara was the one.

“Truth to tell, you might never get over it,” Cassie said quietly, paying special attention to the eyes on the potato she was hacking away at.

Clara looked up quickly. “Well, that’s about guaranteed to make me feel a whole heap better.”

“Sometimes we just live with what we’ve done. At least everyone here knows about Bennett Percival, and nobody blames you one bit.”

Clara shoved the cold coffee from her, wrinkling her nose at the sight of it. “You’d think you were speaking from experience, Cassie. I’d be willing to bet you’ve never even seen a dead man, let alone made one happen.”

Cassie looked up quickly, paring knife stilled by the challenge. “Don’t bet more than a plugged nickel on that, Mother.”

Clara grinned now, her face softening as she watched Cassie from across the table. “I sure do like it when you call me that. Those boys of mine have been callin’ me Ma since the day they found out how to say it, and Louise and Elizabeth are still stuck on Miz Tolliver.”

“Don’t change the subject.” Bending over the speckled bowl she held in her lap, Cassie picked up another potato, examining it closely as if unwilling to meet Clara’s gaze.

Clara looked surprised, her eyes narrowing as if she were reviewing the last words spoken. “You mean, talking about you seeing a dead man? Besides that scallywag I shot?”

Cassie nodded. “I’ve seen one, close by.” She glanced up furtively, as if she would catch Clara in the midst of a horrified reaction.

Instead, the older woman lifted an eyebrow in question. “Lately?”

Cassie considered for a moment. “About six months ago, back in Texas.”

“Wasn’t that about the time you met up with Will?”

“Just about.”

“Before you met up with Will?” Clara prodded.

Cassie nodded. “The day before, in fact” She drew a shaky breath. Now that the thing was under way, she was beginning to wish she’d kept her mouth shut. But somehow it had to be told to the sheriff in town, and maybe it would be easier to start off with a friendly audience.

She’d decided last night, after Will’s announcement that he considered their life to be just about perfect, that it was a good time to clear her conscience. Not to mention the fact that having a baby growing inside her was making her think a lot about honesty and getting the shadows of the past put in their place.

And the biggest shadow she’d ever had to hide was that of Remus Chandler. The possibility that somewhere, someone might be looking for her with a Wanted poster in hand was enough to make her blood run cold. She shivered at the thought, her index finger poking at a long, curling piece of potato skin that had landed over the side of the pan.

“Quit your lollygaggin’, Cassie. Speak up. I have a notion you’re stewin’ over something, and now’s a good time to get it off your chest,” Clara said sternly. She rose, coffee cup in hand, her eyes holding more sparkle than Cassie had seen there in over a week..

“Will doesn’t know about this.” Cassie lifted the pan and plopped it on the table. Then, looking down at her lap, she fit both hands carefully over the more than noticeable curve of her belly.

“About that chick you’re hatchin’ there? He’s proud as punch, Cassie. ‘Course he knows about it.”

“No. About what I’m trying to tell you.” Her sigh was deep, her mouth suddenly feeling as if it had been wrapped around a dill pickle, all pinched and puckered up.

Clara deposited her cup in the cold dishwater and walked
slowly and silently back to the table, her face somber, as if she had only this moment realized that Cassie was dead serious about telling her a secret.

“Who was the dead man, Cassie?”

Once more she shivered, as if she saw afresh the blood and the crumpled body at her feet. As if she felt again the bone handle of that sharp knife cradled in her palm. Looking down, she examined the faint scar she’d gained that night.

“Cassie?” Clara’s voice was closer, sharper, as if she sensed the horror that had newly visited Cassie’s mind in these few moments.

“I killed a man, Mother.” Amazed at the calmness of her own voice, the flat tones of her blunt admission, Cassie looked up, dry-eyed, when deep down inside, tears were begging to be shed. “He was my stepfather, and he’d been waiting for my mother to die so he could get his hands on me. And when she did, when she had barely stopped breathing, he came after me.”

A muttered sound passed Clara’s lips—a curse, muffled by the palm of her hand as she stifled the words. “You were just a young girl! Still are, for that matter,” she murmured, kneeling beside her daughter-in-law’s chair. Her hands reached to cover Cassie’s, warm against the cold fingers that spread as if to protect the child growing beneath the striped apron.

“I grew up in a hurry,” Cassie whispered, eyes closing as twin tears squeezed from beneath her lashes. “I ran away that night and walked all night long. In the morning I fell asleep by a stream. And that’s where Will found me.”

“Well! I’ll be! You never told me where you met Will. I didn’t ask, either. Figured if he wanted me to know, he’d say so.” A look of pure satisfaction drew Clara’s mouth into a half smile. “Rescued you, didn’t he?”

Cassie nodded. “He took me along with him and bought a horse for me to ride and then brought me here.”

Clara’s eyes were piercing as her hands gripped Cassie’s. “Look at me, girl! When did my boy marry you?” Her mouth tightened. “He did, didn’t he?”

Rising from her knees, she drew Cassie to stand before her. Her brow furrowed deeply as her dark gaze met teary blue eyes.

“When did he marry you?” she repeated.

Cassie shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. He married me, truly he did! And he never laid a hand on me till then.” She blinked and looked toward the window. “Well, he kissed me and kept me warm at night on the trail, but he never…you know, did the other.”

“Well, I should hope not.” Clara’s eyes softened, a faint relief painting her features. “Many Fingers—Jeremiah, rather…can’t get used to him changin’ his name, I declare. Was he around when you got married?”

Cassie shook her head. “No, it was just Will and me and the preacher and his wife.”

“Not here in Greenbush?” At the negative movement of Cassie’s head, Clara heaved a deep sigh. “Well, land sakes, I guess I’d better be grateful for small favors. At least he brought you here all legally wed.”

“Jeremiah thought we were married on the trail,” Cassie said quietly. “But we weren’t. We got married in Mill Creek. Will took me there a week after we got here.”

“Well, that scamp!” Clara pursed her mouth, and then the sour expression turned to a grin. “He always was a one to keep secrets.”

“He’s been good to me. And in return, I lied to him.”

“How’s that?”

“I never told him that my stepfather was dead. I said I just ran off. So when a sheriff came across us the second
day out, Will told him a tall tale. He told him we were married.” Her hands were clutched together in her apron, the material twisted in a knot, and she looked down at the evidence of her distress.

Carefully she straightened her fingers, brushing at the wrinkled fabric with concentration. “I guess you’re wondering what kind of a person I really am, aren’t you?”

“For heaven’s sake! I know exactly what sort you are, girl. A scared young thing with a secret hangin’ over her head, and her not knowin’ what to do about it. Well, you might just as well forget the whole thing, as far as I’m concerned. Any man who’d come after a girl, and her mother not even cold yet, deserves whatever he gets.”

“I can’t forget it,” Cassie said quietly. “I have to find out if there’s anyone after me. I don’t want my baby born in a prison, and if I don’t get this cleared up, that could likely happen.”

“Well, tell Will and he’ll take care of it for you,” Clara said quickly as if that would solve the whole problem.

Cassie’s laugh was tinged with sorrow. “You make that sound so easy…and I can’t even find the courage to begin telling him. I’ve been lying to him for months, just by keeping it a secret. And every once in a while he lets me know that honesty is the most important thing in the world as far as he’s concerned. Almost as if he knows…”

“Do you think maybe he does?” Clara’s words were hopeful.

Cassie shook her head. Looking down at her apron, she reached behind her to untie it, lifting it over her head and folding it with great precision before she placed it on the table. “I’m going to see Sheriff Mosley in town. I’ll tell him what happened and see what he thinks I need to do.”

“Now? Today? You’re just gonna ride to town and blurt
this mess out and hope to high heaven he doesn’t put you in a jail cell?”

Cassie nodded. “Something like that. I hope he’ll let me come back here, seeing as I’m not likely to run off.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Clara asked stoutly. “I’ve known Carl Mosley a good long time. He’ll listen to me.”

Cassie shook her head. “No, I have to do this myself. Besides, you have to finish fixing dinner.” She chewed on her lip, stilling its trembling. “Please. I don’t want Will to know till I’m ready to tell him.”

The need for silence was implicit, and Clara agreed with a silent nod.

“Where’d she go? It’s time for dinner and it’s not like Cassie to be late. Hell, it’s not like Cassie to be runnin’ off in the middle of the morning!” Will’s loud protest rang out boldly, never mind that he’d been out on the farthest pasture all morning, unavailable should Cassie want to talk to him, let him know her destination. Clara, hands full with a stew pot, holding it by the metal handle, looked up at him with steel in her gaze.

“If you don’t get out of my way, you’re gonna be wearin’ this stew right down your front, Will Tolliver! I swear, I’ve never seen such a fussbudget. Cassie went for a little ride. Maybe she decided to stop at Eben’s to see Louise. She was feelin’ a bit edgy this morning. Probably thought it would do her good to get some fresh air.” She plopped the heavy pot on the table. “I doubt she thought she had to ask your permission. She’s a big girl.”

“Not very,” Will grumbled.

Somewhat mollified, he sat down at the table, muttering beneath his breath as Jeremiah and Josie came in the door. Josie was full of excitement over the colts she was helping
to train, and her eyes sparkled. Jeremiah walked carefully, his gait stiff, his demeanor subdued as he favored his left side. Bruises covered his face, and one eye was still swollen almost shut, but at his insistence, Josie had allowed him to move them back into the bunkhouse.

For one night he had stayed in the big bedroom upstairs, Josie sitting by his side. Finally, toward morning, Jeremiah had awakened and reached to pat the bed beside him.

“Lie down here,” he’d murmured, his one good eye peering at his wife. “I need to touch you and know you’re close by.”

She’d done as he bid, and after the second day’s rest in that big bed he’d told her to help him walk back to the home they had made. She’d begun to argue, but a long look from Will had halted her fretting, and under Clara’s watchful eye they’d made the trek down the stairs and out the back door.

This morning Jeremiah had risen and asked for help dressing. Josie had complied with a minimum of fuss, and he’d watched as she worked with the young horses all morning. Now he sat at the dinner table and quietly filled his plate.

“How you doin’?” Will asked in an undertone.

A long glance from dark, enigmatic eyes was his answer. Eyeing his fork, laden with meat and a chunk of carrot, Jeremiah opened his mouth, only to find the bite too large to handle. His swollen lips refused to part more than a small distance and he was finally reduced to mashing the vegetables before he scraped them onto his fork.

Will watched surreptitiously, slowing his own chewing as he kept time with the other man’s progress. Watchful of the open door, ever aware of the absence of his wife, he ate with an absentminded air. Only when he was scraping
the second helping from his plate did he finally catch sight of Cassie’s horse approaching from the town road.

“Here she comes now,” he said, shoving back from the table as he wiped his mouth with his napkin. The screen door slammed behind him as he stepped out onto the back porch. “Cass! Wait up!” he called, heading across the yard to where she rode at an easy lope.

She turned, pulling back on the reins as she saw him coming, and her brown mare eased to a walk, straining at the bit as if she scented the oats waiting in her stall.

“You all done eating dinner, Will?” Cassie asked.

“Yeah, mine and your share, too.” He stalked to where she sat atop the horse and grasped the bridle beneath the bit. “Where’d you go? I hope you didn’t go into town with britches on.” His voice was rough and demanding, and he almost winced as he recognized the abrasive tone he’d used.

Cassie hesitated, cocking her head to one side as she looked at him. “What’s the problem? Can’t I go for a ride without you being upset with me? And how do you expect me to ride in a skirt? Of course I have britches on.” She lifted her right leg over and slid to the ground, removing her gloves as she watched her husband.