Page 81 of Conveniently Wed
Edgar crossed his muscled arms over his chest. “I’ve heard you’re the reason my wife and her sister left Tennessee. Fran, Emma, you want to go back?”
She shook her head quickly, and saw that Emma did the same on Edgar’s other side.
Mr. Underhill took a long look around, taking in the cattle now moving on up the hillside, the wagon, the number of men standing around.
“You’ve got a big herd there. On your way to sell them, I believe?”
Why had he changed the subject? Fran knew his shrewd gaze would miss nothing, but she didn’t understand the change in topic.
Edgar nodded slowly.
“It would be a shame to not have enough cowboys to get your cattle where they’re going on time.”
“You threatening me and mine?” Edgar asked, voice level.
Emma whimpered a little on his other side. He rested a kind hand on her shoulder. Fran could still see her sister shaking.
Fran couldn’t help noticing that his other hand rested at his hip, just above the revolver in his belt. Why had she left the gun he’d given her in the wagon?
“Of course not,” he said, voice just as calm as Edgar’s. Even a little cold.
“Good. Because if you were, I’d want you to know that you might have a few more guns than we do, but that doesn’t mean you’d all get away unscathed.”
Underhill bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile. “I must confess to being a little surprised Miss Morris has found herself such a…passionate champion.”
That made two of them. She hadn’t wanted to think about what would happen if Edgar had to stand up for her against Underhill, but now that it was unfolding, she worried for her husband. She knew what Underhill was capable of.
And she’d fallen for the rough-edged cowboy. She loved him.
The realization hit her hard, as if she’d been struck.
It didn’t seem possible. She’d only known him for a few days and for most of that time she’d been afraid for her life, on the run, overly emotional.
And he’d been a rock through all of it, steady and unyielding. Someone she could count on for the rest of her life.
She wished she’d seen it sooner. What if she never got the chance to tell him?
What if something happened to him because of her? She couldn’t even countenance it.
She must’ve made some noise of distress, because Edgar looked down on her with a puzzled gaze.
She shook her head minutely, fear and love and distress all entwined inside her.
“I can see you’re a man of some intelligence,” Underhill said, bringing Edgar’s attention back to him.
Edgar grunted.
“So let’s talk about just whom you are protecting.”
Fran’s stomach dipped. He couldn’t accuse her…not all the way out here, in Wyoming.
“This is a federal marshal.” Underhill motioned to the man with the badge. “He has accompanied me all this way in an attempt to get back something that was taken from me.”
Fran knew exactly what it was. Emma.
“No doubt Miss Morris has told you that she and her sister escaped Memphis, running from capture.”
Edgar nodded. She watched his eyes scan the men before them, planning, thinking. But he was also listening.
