Page 38 of Mail-Order Bride Runaway
“Everybody.” He spoke so airily, so confidently that she laughed.
“Well. I never heard it before.” Every word came out in a breath of indignation.
They studied each other for a moment. She couldn’t remain serious in face of the sparkle in his eyes and again laughed.
Grinning, he pushed away from the wagon. “Let’s get moving.”
Shifting, her arms across her chest, she blocked him. “Not until you tell me.”
Silent war existed between their eyes. Neither of them relenting.
He nodded and she breathed in victory. “On one condition… you tell me how it was for you too.”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
“It felt nice.” He grinned, seemingly pleased about his answer.
“Nice? That’s the best you can do?” Her breath huffed out.
“Nice is good. It’s your turn.”
How had she gotten herself into this? She wasn’t certain she knew how she felt about the kiss. “It was… well, nice.”
“Think we could improve on it?” He leaned toward her, his gaze on her mouth.
Her heart raced upward, her lips parted in anticipation.
He slapped his hand to his forehead. “Forget I said that.” He strode toward the horses.
She watched him go, silhouetted against the golden ball of the dawning sun.
Forget he said that? Could she? Did she want to?
10
Andy reached the horses to bring them to the wagon before he remembered that he and Della needed to eat. He made his way back, careful not to look at Della. Her presence had him as off balance as if someone had tipped him down a hill and left him to roll. Or was it their kiss? It being his first and all, how was he to know if everyone had this reaction. But it couldn’t happen again. That wasn’t part of their agreement. Nor part of their plans. She meant to go to Europe. He—
Well, he couldn’t rightly remember what his plans were. Something to do with the mountains. He turned to look in that direction. The rising sun reflected off the peaks, turning them golden. That’s right. There were places he hoped to explore. The trail leading past the western-most line shack, the vista the mountain man had told about…
He stood at the wagon, lost in thought.
“Are we going to have breakfast before we head out?”
Her question jarred him into action, and he drew the food box toward him. “You want to try the salmon?”
She laughed. “I’m about ready to eat anything.”
Did he detect a hint of uncertainty in her tone? Was it because she, too, wondered about their kiss? Or had his reaction left her thinking he regretted it?
“Della—” But he couldn’t tell her how much he’d enjoyed kissing her and how he wished they could do it again. “I’m not going to start a fire this morning.” Not only because of the dry conditions but also because the idea of sitting around dancing flames drinking coffee with her at his side made his knees turn to rubber.
“Of course. I understand the dangers but how are you going to manage without that concoction you call coffee?” She shuddered but her eyes danced, informing him of her humor.
“I could chow down on the dry coffee instead.” He always ground the beans before he set out on a trip.
“That sound delightful.” Her voice gurgled with amusement.
As they talked, he used his jackknife to open the tin and handed her a fork. Eating from the same can forced them to stand almost toe to toe.
