Page 4 of Wagon Train Honor
Moving soundlessly, she reached into her valise, extracted her sketchbook and opened it to the place where she’d been working. She’d almost finished, but the leaves weren’t done. They needed to be precise. That meant she’d have to slip away again.
She turned to the place where she kept the letter and barely managed to hold back a gasp.
It wasn’t there. How was that possible?
Flipping through the pages, she deflated. It was truly missing.
She sank back on her heels. Her stomach twisted. She’d had it just this morning.
Pawing through the contents of her valise, her heart pounding in her throat, she came up empty.
Had she dropped it up on the hill? Perhaps in her haste to get away from that intruding man. She pressed her eye to the hole in the canvas. The constable was gone. Ma and Gabe were out of sight. She could slip away now.
After pausing only long enough to get her sketchbook and pen, she dropped to the ground and hurried into the bushes.
Chapter 2
Robert meandered to the trees, going only far enough to be out of sight. As he’d talked to Mr. and Mrs. Miller, the movement of one wagon caught his attention. It wasn’t much. Only a slight tilting of the box and a barely-there rustle of the canvas. Enough for him to think someone hid inside. Was Miss Woods hiding there? And why? Was she afraid of him? Or so shy she fled from strangers? What had Carson said about his sisters other than one was widowed with a baby? Did Robert recall that Carson said one of his sisters was on the wild side? All he remembered Carson saying about the younger three was they were still in pigtails. If he meant the Miss Woods Robert had seen…well, she was not a girl in pigtails.
His scarlet tunic was hard to blend into his surroundings, so he hunkered down behind some low bushes, making himself as small as possible. With nothing else to do, he prepared to watch for Miss Woods so he could return the papers to her. Of course, he could have given them to her mother but?—
The wagon holding his interest rocked. Then Miss Goldiehair dropped from the back and scooted toward the trees. Furtive, as if she didn’t want to be noticed.
Mr. and Mrs. Miller were out of sight. Bertie too. Only Limpy, the brown, three-legged dog, lifted his head at Miss Woods’s departure. His interest was short-lived.
Not wanting to attract her attention, Robert remained motionless, his gaze following her flight. She’d be returning to the place he’d previously seen her. When she was out of sight, he straightened and slipped through the trees in the same direction. Guessing she would flee if she heard or saw him, he remained out of sight in a position that allowed him to watch.
She fell to her knees, rifling through the grass. Frantic. Searching for something.
The papers in his pocket made a slight rustling sound as he patted them. “Miss Woods, I?—”
Her face wreathed in alarm; she straightened. Her gaze went past him.
Guessing she was about to run, he held the papers aloft. “I think you might be looking for this.”
Her blue eyes mirrored the sky as they hit his. Her lips pursed. Her throat worked with her swallow.
“How—?” She jabbed her finger toward his hand.
“I found them after you ran away earlier. You must have dropped them.” That seemed rather obvious, but what else could he say? This woman was as skittish as a wild colt. He didn’t step toward her. Best to let her make the first move.
Her arm dropped to her side. But she stood motionless.
He could almost see the thoughts racing through her head as she considered what to do.
One cautious step after the other, she eased forward and reached out her hand.
The papers slid from his fingers to hers, and she clutched them to her chest. “Thank you.” Her words whispered over the short distance between them. Then she ducked her head to study the letter. Jerked up to stare wide-eyed at him. “You saw what they are?”
“How else would I know who it belonged to? And then I found the drawing. It’s excellent, by the way. Congratulations on your invitation to join the explorers.”
“No. No.” The fingers of her free hand curled and uncurled, crumpling the front of her dress.
A fetching dress, to be sure. A silvery gray with dark blue trim. The latter reflected in her eyes, drawing his attention to the rim of navy around her sky-blue irises and the pink in her cheeks.
“You can’t tell anyone about this.”
“Pardon?” Did she mean about him meeting her on the hillside? Or about the letter? Or something else entirely?
