Bride of Shadow Canyon. Stacey Kayne

and your sister,” she continued, ignoring his comment. “There’s eighteen years between Elizabeth and me, but we had three brothers between us. Do you have other siblings?”

      Lord, she must have been deprived of conversation. “No,” he said in a hard tone. “Laura was my half sister. My mother was a widow when she met and married my father.”

      “How did they die?”

      Hell, she was persistent. “From what I recall, they set out for an Indian camp and didn’t return. I reckon they met some Indians who didn’t much care for the preaching of a white man.”

      “Oh my goodness! Do you find it ironic that you were raised in the very culture your parents were trying to convert?”

      “I didn’t say they were killed by Cherokee,” Jed clarified. “And I was raised by Shuhquoy, in California mostly. We tended to roam. But I read the Bible and prayed to the God Shuhquoy called Laura’s God. What I do find ironic is my telling you I’d not be your servant, yet here I sit, braiding your hair as though I’m your damn chambermaid.”

      “Why did you cut your hair when you were seventeen?”

      “Because, like you, it was a pain in the ass to take care of.”

      Rachell didn’t say anything, but Jed sensed her smile. He’d also noticed how her posture had relaxed as she sat chattering between his thighs. From the corner of his eye, he saw her hand reach toward his raised knee. Her fingers grazed the fringe at the top of his tall moccasin, sending a lightning charge straight to his groin.

       Damnation!

      He didn’t like the power this woman had over his body. He shook his head in self-disgust and secured a leather thong around the end of her silky hair. Twenty-three. She’s twenty-three! Ben’s wife was only a year younger, a girl he’d helped raise and considered his daughter in every way that mattered. Rachell was too damn young for him.

      “Finished.” He flipped the braid over her shoulder. He pulled out the bonnet he’d tucked into his waistband while folding up his bedroll, and tugged it onto her head.

      “Thank you.” Rachell scooted out from between his legs before she got to her feet.

      Jed actually winced as he watched her rise, the vivid image of her sweetly shaped backside flashing in his mind. Dear God, he was pathetic. He hung his head like a whipped dog, resting his forearms on his raised knees.

      What in blazes is wrong with me? He wasn’t a man deprived of the physical pleasures of a woman, yet his body was behaving like that of a sex-starved coal miner. Having seen every smooth inch of Rachell’s skin hadn’t helped matters.

      “Jed?”

      “Yeah?” he said without looking up.

      “Are we leaving?”

      “Yeah. Just…give me a minute.”

      “Are you feeling ill?”

      “Not exactly,” he mumbled.

      He took a deep breath, then rose to his feet, obviously a bit too soon. The blunt proof of his stray thoughts still pressed against the confinement of his pants. Rachell’s wide eyes seemed to home right in on it.

      “What the hell do you expect to happen when a man has a beautiful woman sitting between his legs, all soft and smiling?”

      Her gaze darted up as her cheeks flamed to a bright red. “I, I didn’t mean…that is, I wasn’t—”

      “I know!”

      Why did I have to braid her hair? Now she truly looked like a frightened schoolgirl in braids and a bonnet.

      “Don’t worry,” he said as he turned and walked away. “I’m not a rutting beast. I can control myself.”

      At least he used to be able to.

      Chapter Five

       He thinks I’m beautiful?

      That should have been the least of Rachell’s concerns, yet as she watched Jed kneel beside his scattered supplies, tossing them back into the large canvas sack, she seemed unable to form another thought. His absurd statement stunned her. She knew what attracted a man. It had been her business to know.

      She’d spent six years being thoroughly trained in all the proper etiquette and apparatus to capture a wealthy husband. Too bad she’d never met any worth being caught. Surprisingly, many of the same lures were used to pack randy men into saloons. Both required oodles of satin and lace, heavily padded corsets, and for her later field of employment, layers of colorful cosmetics. All to hide the short, flat-chested waif hidden beneath.

       How can he be attracted to me?

      Yet, she’d seen the proof, plain as day. It just didn’t make any sense. She glanced down at the grass-green calico tent hanging from her spindly frame. Without a stuffed corset, a man had to use a good deal of imagination to even believe she had breasts under the roomy bodice.

      The tips of her high-heeled scarlet boots poked out from beneath the curtain of green. Her braided hair and makeshift bonnet certainly couldn’t have improved her impoverished state.

      She looked ridiculous. The man must be daft.

      Her own state of mental well-being was none the better, for she had very much enjoyed sitting in the midst of Jed’s long, brawny limbs, feeling his deep voice grate across her neck as he brushed her hair.

      Not at all sensible. But then, when had her life ever made sense?

      She watched Jed stalk off toward the river, clearly impatient to be away from her. She reminded herself that Jed hadn’t liked her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. He was only helping her as a favor to Buck and Elizabeth, and to protect his ranch.

      The last thing she wanted was to cause her sister pain. Only now did she see the selfishness in her endeavors to be reunited with Elizabeth. She had put her own longing to be part of a family again ahead of her sister’s safety.

      Tears burned at her eyes, her chest ached with grief.

       I’ve been fooling myself.

      She would never find a place where she would be accepted. Her own father had been the first to send her away, unable to stand the sight of her. She’d been no better received at boarding school or with the Carlsons. Not even the saloon patrons had wanted to have anything to do with her and had ridiculed her appearance, just as everyone else had. She knew she’d been lucky to be selling her voice and not her body, but it hurt not to belong, anywhere. She’d taken solace in her sole friend, Titus, who’d been killed on her account.

      She caused pain wherever she went. Why should California be any different? She would only find further torment and cause more pain to those she loved. The sister she remembered from her youth didn’t deserve the cloud of despair that shadowed her existence. She would indeed be doing her sister a kindness to remain on the opposite side of the continent.

      Rachell glanced toward the river, then east, recalling the slightest glimpse of a settlement they had passed. It couldn’t be more than a day’s walk.

      She started through the dense section of trees, increasing her pace until she was running, her only thought, to get away. She headed for a patch of aspen too thick for Sage to get through. Not that Jed would bother to look for her. He’d surely be happy to find her gone.

      I’m not helpless. She leapt across a narrow gorge, lifting her skirt higher to accommodate longer strides as she sprinted through the trees.

      Fifteen minutes later, Rachell’s heartbeat pounded in her ears, and her lungs drew raggedly for breath as she ducked under another low branch, her boots rapidly working across the uneven ground. Certain she’d gotten a good start, she slowed her pace to a brisk walk, endeavoring to catch her breath. Jed probably hadn’t