Page 47 of Wagon Train Promises
“From a wild animal.”
“Pfft. It was only a coyote. They’re sneaky creatures.” Another snort. “He can hunt his own dinner.” She shook the water from the carcass. “I’ll have to cut off a few spots and throw away. But not to the greedy little coyote. No sir. I’ll bury the meat so deep he’ll never get it.”
Cecil roared with laughter. When her expression remained fierce, he quelled his amusement. “I better remember never to cross you. I don’t want you hunting me down. You’d be relentless.”
His laughter resumed and carried across the river, bringing Bertie and Marnie to the far bank to see what was going on. He waved. Oh, how he’d like to share the details with them.
Louise climbed the bank, bearing her trophy. She stopped in front of him. Fire flashed in her eyes. “I fail to see the humor.”
Was it a remnant of her anger with the coyote or—he began to edge back—was she annoyed by his laughter?
He tried but failed to stop his amusement from bubbling out.
“You—” He backed further and faster at the way her eyes darkened. “I think you would have wrestled that meat from him if he hadn’t dropped it.”
“Are you telling me you’d let it go without a fight?” The challenge was impossible to miss.
“All I can say is I’m glad it wasn’t a bear.” His shudder was only fractionally pretend.
He’d backed up clear to the wagon and could go no further. She didn’t stop until she was toe to toe with him, the rabbit hanging from one hand. Would she use it as a weapon against him? Because he laughed?
“Louise, you’re beautiful when you’re all fierce like that.” And before he could give it a second thought, he leaned toward her and brushed his lips to hers.
She jolted back. Or did he? Her eyes widened, but they’d lost all fight and softened.
Everything inside him slowed. His heartbeat. His breathing. His thinking. Nothing existed apart from the tingling of his lips. One thought surfaced. She had every reason to be offended and could show her objection any way she wanted.
Well, another thought made its way to his befuddled head.
He ought to apologize.
And then a third.
He’d rather enjoyed it.
“Louise.” Her name was but a breathy whisper.
She blinked. Swallowed loudly, ground around, and hurried to the campfire.
It took another minute before Cecil could pull himself together to follow her.
Pretending to be busy with the meat, she turned her back to him.
He circled the fire until he faced her. “Louise, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“And now you regret it?”
Regret? Not for one moment. He’d never forget the way that kiss made him feel. “I regret offending you.”
Slash. Whack. She cut the carcass into pieces and put them into fresh water, adding salt and pepper and other things. He couldn’t say exactly what because his attention was on her expression.
He waited for her to respond. And held on to the hope she’d say she wasn’t offended. Had, in fact, found it enjoyable.
“We’re about out of wood.”
His shoulders sank. “I’ll get more.” Grabbing the ax, he ventured back to the trees. On the way, he met Hazel meandering along the trail with Petey. He hadn’t even noticed her absence.
She paused to give him a hard look. “Did something happen?”
