Page 40 of Conveniently Wed
Hours later, Edgar urged his horse across the grassy field, careful as he could be in the darkness. Morning was coming, and he needed to get back to the cattle camp before it was time to ride out.
His hunt hadn’t turned up what he was looking for. They must’ve hit a patch of unclaimed land, because there seemed to be no farmhouse close. The fact that there were no farmhouses nearby meant that whoever followed them hadn’t just been checking on who was passing by.
Which amounted to one of two things.
Rustlers.
Or men coming after their two female stowaways.
Neither option was pleasant.
He was a decent tracker and hadn’t been able to find hide nor hair of anybody. John had seen two sets of tracks the day before, but they’d been covered over when Edgar had returned to where John had told him they were. And there weren’t that many places to hide out here in the open prairie. Not like there would be closer to the mountain range.
Someone was being extra careful not to be seen.
And that didn’t sit well with Edgar.
His hand was still swollen and near to useless, but he had his equilibrium back and riding in the early morning had been a relief.
He whistled a welcome to Seb, who’d been assigned sentry duty, and was gratified when a return whistle came quickly. The boy wasn’t sleeping on the job.
He dismounted as the first rays of light started sliding over the eastern horizon. He tied off his mount and knocked softly on the side of the chuck wagon, where Fran and Emma slept.
There was a frantic rustling, a whisper, then dead silence.
He knocked again. “Fran, it’s me.”
The canvas flap kicked open and she hissed, “You about scared the life out of me!”
Her pert nose peeked out of the darkness inside. He imagined she was on her knees in the wagon bed, as they werepretty much face to face. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders, teased him with the desire to touch it.
His mouth kicked up in a smile at her petulant adorableness before he even realized it.
“C’mon. Rise and shine. We’ve got work to do.”
He heard her soft groan. Knew being out here must be hard on her, if she’d been used to city living and had grown soft from days of train travel. But she hadn’t complained yet.
“All right, I’m—Emma!”
Her soft exclamation came only a second before she tumbled out of the wagon.
He caught her against his chest.
And for the first time, didn’t want to let her go.
Fran landed hard against her cowboy husband. At least that’s the excuse she would give if anyone asked her why she was breathless.
The frantic beat of her heart had changed from the stark fear she’d known at his soft knock against the wagon to something entirely different.
She was attracted to her bear of a husband.
It wasn’t light out yet, and standing together in the darkness like this, with his hands at her waist…. At least the semi-darkness would hide the heat in her cheeks.
Emma was likely watching from inside the wagon. The little goose had shoved her, and only Edgar catching her had stopped Fran from falling face-first to the ground.
But she forgot about her sister and all their troubles in the safety of his arms.
“Does no one tell you you should cut your hair?” she asked, daring to reach up and touch one of the long locks trailing out beneath his hat. It was surprisingly soft.
