Frontier Bride. Ana Seymour

to her annoyance, Hannah realized that her heart had given a thump inside her chest at the mention of the man’s name. “Very good, sir,” she said a little sharply.

      Randolph looked up at her curiously. “Reed seemed taken with you last night at the inn.”

      “He said it had been a spell since he’d been around women, and judging from his manners, I believe he was telling the truth.”

      Randolph smiled. “It’s hard to fault a man for noticing a pretty girl, Hannah.”

      Hannah’s cheeks grew hot. It was the first time that Randolph Webster had made the slightest comment on her person. His eyes had an odd expression, too, as he watched her from behind his big desk. She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I’d best see to getting his room ready, Mr. Webster.” Then she gave a bob of her head and escaped down the hall.

       Chapter Two

      Ethan Reed had spent the entire past year with a government survey party mapping the unknown territory along the Monongahela River north of the Ohio. The winter before that, he’d spent at Fort Pitt, the rough frontier stronghold that the English had built to replace the burned-out French Fort Duquesne. As he had told Webster’s servant yesterday, it had been a long spell since he’d been around a lot of women. It had been an even longer one since he’d seen any as pretty as Mistress Hannah Forrester.

      He stood framed by the open doorway of Webster’s house and watched her as she bent dipping candles in a pan of tallow. She was too intent on her work to notice his arrival, and he took advantage of the moment to let his eyes roam over her long, slender body. Too slender, perhaps, for the rigors of the West. But with a willowy grace that put a hollow in his midsection. She wore no cap, and her bright blond hair hung in a thick braid down to the middle of her back.

      She turned to hang a dripping row of candles on the drying rack, then stopped as she spied him. Her body stiffened. She was a skittish one, that was for sure. Like the fawn he’d tried to tame last fall when one of the members of the survey party had killed its mother. Ethan had patiently attempted to convince the little animal to trust him, but it had looked at him with big fearful eyes and jumped every time Ethan came near.

      Mistress Forrester’s eyes were not fearful, but they were full of mistrust. He wondered if she’d been telling the truth about Webster’s lack of interest. The man must be daft…or blind. Of course, as she had said, Webster was still grieving for his wife. Ethan shook his head. If he had a woman like this living under the same roof, he’d do a lot more than notice.

      “You startled me, Captain,” she said, putting the candles in their place.

      “I beg your pardon, mistress. I should have announced myself. But you were standing there in that shaft of light, and I was trying to decide if that was your real hair or a halo of sunbeams wreathing your pretty face.”

      Hannah wiped a wisp of hair from her forehead. “Captain Reed, it’s not seemly for you to address such remarks to me. I’m Mr. Webster’s servant.”

      Ethan stepped inside the door and removed his felt tricorne. “I believe you’re going to find that west of the Ohio those kind of labels don’t make much difference anymore. Everyone’s as good as a servant out there. Those who don’t work hard won’t make it.”

      Hannah’s eyes widened as he approached. He was clean shaven now and dressed in a well-tailored suit, tapered at the waist in the current style. He still looked big. His shoulders filled out the jacket in a way that she’d never noticed with Mr. Webster or his friends. With his whiskers gone and clean clothes, Captain Reed suddenly looked as if he could be one of the fine gents who had sauntered into Piccadilly back home in search of a good time and easy women. Her mum had always scurried away when one approached, dragging Hannah behind her. “They’ll not be after you with their fancy words, luv,” she’d say with that distressing look of desperation in her eyes.

      “Perhaps you’re not aware that I’m indentured to Mr. Webster,” she told the captain. “I’m his servant not by choice, but by contract.”

      His potent dark eyes watched her. “Contracts don’t mean a hell of a lot out West, either.”

      “Nevertheless,” she said with quiet dignity, “I intend to honor my commitment to the Websters—Mr. Webster and the children.”

      “It’ll not be a picnic.” He finally broke off his gaze and began looking around the large kitchen. “You’ll not be able to take much of this with you.”

      Relieved to turn to a less personal topic of conver-sation, Hannah said, “The MacDougalls will be selling most of these things after we’re gone. Mr. Webster has spent the past few weeks packing up the essentials. We’re taking very little.”

      “I saw his bundles out in the carriage house and told him to reduce the amount by two-thirds.”

      “But surely…”

      Ethan gestured impatiently. “As I told Webster, we’ll be traveling over little more than a mule track as far as Fort Pitt. From there we’ll move onto the flatboats, which will be a sight easier on everyone. You might be able to pick up some extra supplies at the fort.”

      “We were hoping to take Priscilla’s vanity for Peggy,” Hannah said with a frown.

      Ethan shook his head. “Tell her grandparents to save it for her. Someday the roads west will be broad enough to move a whole house, but not yet.”

      Hannah nodded. She felt sorry for the little girl, who had lost her mother and must now leave almost every trace of her behind. But Hannah herself had gone through worse sacrifices during her childhood. Her mother had always said what didn’t kill you, made you strong.

      “I’ll talk to the MacDougalls. They’ve plenty of room to save some of Mrs. Webster’s things for a future date.”

      Ethan gave a smile of approval. “I like your attitude, Mistress Forrester. Most women put up a fuss about leaving their precious belongings behind.”

      “I only asked for Peggy’s sake, Captain Reed. For myself, I’ve nothing precious to take or to leave.”

      She spoke the words matter-of-factly, Ethan noted, without a trace of self-pity or bitterness. Webster’s servant was not only beautiful. There was an underlying strength to her character that would serve her well on the frontier.

      Hannah’s back hurt again. She’d spent all day trying to prepare enough candles to last for the unknown number of weeks before she would be able to make more, and the bending and dipping had her muscles aching. Her unpredictable back was one of the curses of being tall and slender, her mother used to say. Of course, her mother had measured little more than a yeoman’s yard, which meant that Hannah’s height had to have come from the deserting black-guard who had fathered her. Her mother would see naught but ill in the trait.

      “You’ve put in a long day, Hannah.” Mr. Webster stepped in the front door and clapped his hat on the wall peg.

      Hannah smiled at him. Since their conver-sation in his office this morning, Mr. Webster’s remarks to her seemed to be subtly different. The day had gone much as most days, a busy combination of household chores and children, but more than once she had caught his eyes on her, and he had complimented her warmly on the supper, which had been nothing but an unpretentious beef stew. Of course, the presence of Captain Reed had made the meal more festive than usual. He’d regaled them with stories of the West until both Peggy and Jacob had jumped around in a circle and declared that they wanted to leave that very minute.

      “I thought you would be staying up at the tavern with Captain Reed and the others,” she answered.

      “The noise was giving me the headache. I decided I’d rather come home and tuck the bairns in their beds.”

      Hannah’s smile dimmed at his use of Priscilla’s