Frontier Bride. Ana Seymour

      “My routes are in here,” he said, tapping the side of his head with his finger. His hair was a deep, rich brown and he wore it long, not pulled back into the customary queue. His short dark whiskers emphasized the rugged line of his jaw.

      “You know the wilderness well?” she asked after a moment.

      He grinned. “Well now, I’m not a man to boast. Let me put it this way. Before I round a bend of the Ohio, I can tell you how many marsh rats we’ll find nesting on the other side.”

      Hannah laughed. Ethan Reed’s utter lack of humility both irritated and fascinated her. Some of her nervousness subsided. Here was a man who actually knew this land Mr. Webster had described so glowingly and in such detail. “Is it as rich as they say? As beautiful?”

      “The Ohio River valley’s richer than anything these colonies have seen. One of these days people will be clamoring to own a piece of it. You folks are lucky to be among those getting there first.”

      “Do you ‘own a piece of it,’ Captain?”

      He shook his head. “I’m not exactly the settling-down type, Mistress Forrester. I figure, why should I limit myself to a little piece of paradise when I can freely roam the whole thing?”

      “But, surely, now that families are moving into the area, you’ll not feel quite so independent?”

      “The tiny little chunks of land you folks will hack out of the wilderness won’t change things much.”

      Hannah looked puzzled. “I thought Mr. Webster said that the tracts would be upward of two hundred acres.”

      Reed laughed, rich and low. “There’s hundreds of thousands of acres out there, mistress. Your little portion of it won’t amount to more than a fly speck.”

      Hannah shifted her eyes to the fire. “Not my portion, Captain Reed. I’m just going along to care for Mr. Webster’s children. At the end of three years I’ll return here to the city to seek employment.”

      Reed was silent for a long moment. When Hannah turned back to him, he was looking at her with a half smile and eyes that had grown suddenly intense. “I’d not place a wager on that, mistress,” he said softly.

      She wanted to look away again, but his gaze held hers. “Why not?” she asked. Her mouth suddenly felt dry.

      “Webster’s not that big a fool.”

      It was the second time that day she’d had to listen to insinuations about her relationship with Randolph Webster. Hannah gripped the arms of the rocker and said stiffly, “Mr. Webster is my employer, Captain Reed. He has just lost his beloved wife. And if we’re all to be traveling together, I’ll thank you not to embarrass the poor man with your preposterous comments.”

      Reed was unruffled. “If not Webster, then some other man will snatch you up, Mistress Forrester. There’s a sore need for women on the frontier.”

      Hannah stood briskly, setting the rocking chair swaying. “I’m not available to be ‘snatched,’ as you put it, Captain. I’m contracted to Mr. Webster, and that’s the end of it. In the future I’d appreciate it if you kept your speculations about my destiny to your-self.”

      With no visible effort, Reed went from his easy crouch to a standing position. His broad chest was just inches from her face. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a grin.

      “Thank you. I’ll bid you good-evening, sir.” She turned away with a flounce of her skirts.

      Reed watched as she crossed the room to lift a drooping Jacob from Randolph Webster’s lap.

      Hannah had cleaned the tiny office in the back of the Webster house many times, but this was the first time she had ever sat there in the stiff horsehair chair across the desk from Randolph Webster. It was after the noon meal. Peggy and Jacob were playing blindman’s wand with a group of children from the neighborhood. Hannah had been watching them from the front window, thinking that soon they would be leaving all their friends behind, when Mr. Webster had come up quietly behind her.

      “Are you busy, Hannah?”

      She’d jumped and a guilty flush had come over her. It was seldom that she could be found idling thus in the middle of the day. But Mr. Webster looked distracted and didn’t seem to be chiding her for her lack of activity.

      “I wonder if I might have a moment of your time?” he’d continued.

      He’d led her into the office that he used to keep his accounts and those of his in-laws and many other friends and neighbors. The neat rows of books and ledgers made Hannah question once again Mr. Webster’s decision to leave his home and comfortable city life. What did Randolph Webster know about carving a farm out of the wilderness? She sighed. It wasn’t her decision. And she supposed someday the frontier would need accountants, too.

      Mr. Webster appeared to be studying her from his deep leather chair, and Hannah was just beginning to grow uncomfortable when he said, “I’ve not been the most attentive employer these past months.”

      The remark surprised her. It had sounded almost apologetic. “You’ve had your grief to bear, Mr. Webster. ‘Tis understandable.”

      “You’ve done a remarkable job with the children. They miss Priscilla, but I can’t imagine how they’d be faring if you hadn’t been here for them.”

      “They’re very dear.” Hannah smiled uncertainly.

      “Yes, well…” Randolph reached out to roll a marble blotter back and forth under his hand. “It’s been brought to my attention that it might be unfair of me to ask you to join us on the trip west.”

      Hannah let out a breath. So this was what was on his mind. “My contract doesn’t specify where my services will be performed, Mr. Webster. I consider that you and…Mrs. Webster…have always been fair with me.”

      Randolph gave the blotter a spin, then stopped the motion with a smash of his hand. “The MacDougalls want me to sell them your indenture.”

      Hannah swallowed. She had thought of little else all morning. It wouldn’t be a bad life. The MacDougalls were honorable people, and Hannah had no doubt that her three years would pass pleasantly enough. But if she stayed in Philadelphia, she’d never see those silver rivers….

      Randolph Webster watched her silently. His stern features had softened, and he looked almost like a little boy making a silent plea for permission to embark on an adventure.

      All at once Hannah realized that her decision had already been made. “Mr. Webster,” she started slowly, “back in London when my mother became too ill to work, we moved to an almshouse. I lived with forty other people in a room the size of your Sunday parlor. On the crossing, there were over a hundred of us in a smelly ship’s hold not as big as this house. Now you tell me about a rich land where you can walk all day in the sunlight and never see another living soul. Just imagine!” Her blue eyes sparkled. “If you and the children want me, I’ll go west with you.”

      Randolph seemed to let out a breath he’d been holding. He didn’t smile, but the tenseness left his face and he leaned back in his chair. “We do want you, Hannah.” The slightest bit of red began to show from underneath his stiff white collar. “Er…that is…the children are very fond of you.”

      “Then it’s settled,” Hannah said briskly. “Please thank the MacDougalls for their offer and their concern.”

      Randolph nodded. He didn’t speak further, but continued studying her.

      “Was there anything else, sir?” she asked.

      “No. Ah…thank you, Hannah.”

      She got up and started to leave, but Mr. Webster’s voice stopped her at the door.

      “Hannah, there is one more thing. Would you please prepare the back room?”

      She turned back to him. “The