Page 78 of Conveniently Wed
They’d left town before the sun had come up. She suspected it was Edgar’s way of protecting her and Emma from whoever might be following them.
But it made for a drowsy morning, especially with the bright spring sun glaring in her eyes.
She was glad to take a mid-morning break.
Emma had been quieter than ever. She hadn’t slept the night before. In their shared bed, Fran had felt her constant restlessness.
She was ready for this to be over. Would Underhill’s obsession with Emma never end? What possessed a man to such a crazed state?
She waved to Edgar as she stepped down off the wagon. Emma went to take a private moment in some nearby brush, andFran just walked a bit away from the wagon, stretching the kinks out of her still-sore muscles.
The grass in this area was taller than her knees, and dotted with wildflowers. It smelled fresh and springy, and she felt hope for the first time in a long time.
He hadn’t made any declarations. But didn’t actions speak louder than words? This morning had given her a tiny kernel of hope.
Contemplative, she sat down among the prairie grass, letting the sun warm her shoulders.
Then she thought she’d like to feel it on her face, so she laid down and spread her arms, face turned up to the sky.
It stretched, limitless and blue, like the possibilities before her.
Could she and Emma be happy on a ranch? She thought so. Could Emma find peace? Without a constant shadow over them, Fran was hopeful.
She’d gotten used to the work of a cattle drive. And although the daily chores of a homestead were probably much different, working alongside the cowboys had given her the confidence that she could do what needed to be done.
How would Underhill make his move? He was sly, deceptive, controlling, dangerous. She couldn’t trust that he’d given up.
But those worries seemed far away in the warm morning sunlight.
She closed her eyes for a moment and the sunlight shone pink against her closed eyes. Soft shadows—clouds from high above—flickered.
She smiled.
She could be happy here. She knew it.
A shadow fell over her face.
She opened her eyes, raising up on her elbows to face the man standing over her.
“What are you doing?” Edgar’s voice revealed his curious confusion.
“Enjoying the day,” she retorted, lying back down to stare up at the puffy clouds against the blue sky. “You’ve been driving all of us so hard I thought I could take a few moments for myself.”
He settled beside her in the grass, heads tucked together, only inches apart. “Tyrant that I am, I’m only giving you two more minutes,” he said. He sat his Stetson on his chest.
He took a deep breath. She felt more than saw the motion, as his feet were pointed in the opposite direction of hers, and she couldn’t really see his chest.
“How long has it been since you stopped to smell wildflowers?” she asked, genuinely curious. “You haven’t stopped working since I met you.”
“It’s not always so bad,” he murmured. “Things around the homestead slow down in the winter months. There’s time for reading, games… But in spring there’s planting, calves being born, steers to sell…”
They were silent for a moment before he went on. “And I guess my brothers are probably right. I’ve been working more and not taking time to slow down and have fun like I used to.”
“Too afraid some eligible girl might catch your fancy?” she asked, only half teasing.
He snorted. “Didn’t stop you,” he said, reaching over to tweak her nose.
“Ha.” She swatted at his hand, and he captured her fingers. Slowly, he interlaced their fingers, surrounding her hand with the warmth of his larger one. He kept her hand, their clasp resting lightly on his shoulder.
