Page 57 of Wagon Train Hope
As Walt eased toward the door, Mr. O’Conner’s gaze lingered on the older girl. Walt would leave the saddlemaker to enjoy his company, for it was plain from the deepening of his voice that he was eager to do so.
The older girl blocked Walt’s escape. “And good day to you, Mr.…?”
“It’s Mr. Miller. Hello to you both.” He dipped his head in acknowledgment and shuffled to the side.
Miss Harrison matched his movements. “You’d be with that wagon train Pa told us about.”
“I suppose I would.”
Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. Then she blinked and spoke to the other man.
Walt hurried out without waiting for more. Drawing in a deep, refreshing breath, he crossed the street to find Irene.
The scent of lemon oil and dill pickles welcomed him. The dark wooden floor ate up the light from the window. A display of tinned goods lined the shelves behind the polished wooden counter. A coffee grinder held a place of prominence near the cash register. Dry goods filled barrels. The shelves around the store displayed a generous selection of goods. Hazel and Ruby hovered over some fabric. Marnie and Pa selected supplies and stacked them on the counter.
He’d seen Louise and Angela walking down the street.
But where was Irene? He asked Pa, who glanced around as if only now noticing she wasn’t there.
Marnie stopped examining the sack of flour she’d chosen. “Irene headed back to the wagons. Said she wanted to make sure Bertie was all right.”
Why hadn’t she waited for him?
“I’m done in town. I’m going back.” He’d catch up and have a few minutes alone with her.
Pa nodded. Marnie waved without turning from her shopping.
Walt adjusted his hat more firmly to his head and hurried from the store. His long strides ate up the distance. Through the trees, he glimpsed Irene. She was more than halfway back. He increased his pace, wanting to catch her before she reached the wagons. A few minutes later, he had almost caught up. She gave no indication she’d heard him.
“Irene, wait.”
Her steps slowed. She brushed hair off her cheek.
The fragrance of disturbed grass rose at their feet as he stopped at her side. “What’s your hurry?”
Like a distressed horse, her nostrils flared a warning. But what about? A quick review of the events in town provided no clue.
“Are you angry with me?”
She widened her eyes in what must be an attempt to look innocent. “Should I be?”
“I can think of no reason.”
With an airy shrug, she moved on. “Then I guess there isn’t any.”
“If I’ve done something, wouldn’t it be fair to tell me?” It was best to keep things in the open. “Grandpa often said that the sooner one mends fences, the less time for things to pile up.” Though he knew of nothing that would have offended her, it was plain as the sky overhead that he must have.
A bird warbled from the trees, and she searched for the source. “It’s understandable that a proper young lady would attract your attention.”
“A what?” He scrubbed at the back of his neck. “I confess I have no idea what you are referring to.” He hadn’t told her, but only one young lady interested him. And she wore unconventional trousers, rode like a man, and challenged his thinking in ways that blew away dusty cobwebs.
“The Harrison young ladies with their hair neat as can beand their modest dresses clear to here.” She grabbed at her neck in a choking grip.
And then things made sense. But she was so wrong. “I rather like hair that reveals someone is enjoying life.” He caught her untidy braid and lifted it to make sure she understood. “I find it’s pleasant to have someone who can ride by my side without needing me to help them.”
Their gazes caught and held. The air shimmered between them, rich with the scent of summer trees and something unfamiliar and…promising.
She was the first to lower her gaze. “You think I’m reckless. That I pose a risk to everyone in camp?—”
