Lone Wolf's Lady. Judy Duarte

coffee percolating on an open flame.

      Apparently Mr. McCain had realized he shouldn’t order her to cook all their meals. If so, why hadn’t he backed down the day before? It would have saved them both some unnecessary trouble and anger.

      Maybe he’d decided it was time for a truce. After all, they were stuck with each other for the next couple of days. Bickering wasn’t going to do them any good. And it certainly wouldn’t help Sarah Jane feel safe.

      After biting back a groan, Katie rolled to her side and carefully climbed from the wagon, trying not to disturb the other woman and the child, both of whom still slept soundly. Then she made her way to the small campfire, where McCain sat upon a large rock, studying the flickering flame.

      He hadn’t shaved, and in the morning light, he appeared more rugged, more manly and even more handsome—dangerously so.

      She lowered her sleep-hoarsened voice. “Good morning.”

      He glanced up for a moment, then gave her a cursory nod. “’Morning.”

      She bit down on her lower lip, unsure of how to broach an apology, then swallowed her pride and pressed on. “I’m sorry for being disagreeable yesterday. I’m afraid we both started off on the wrong foot, and I’d like to make amends. We have a common goal, and I think being at odds isn’t going to help matters.”

      He seemed to ponder her words, then said, “You’re right.”

      She let out the breath she’d been holding. “I think it’s best if you call me Katie from now on. Miss O’Malley is too formal for this type of trip. Besides, if we’re supposed to be traveling as—” she didn’t dare say husband and wife “—as a family, then it’s more believable, don’t you think?”

      Silence swirled around them like the steam from the coffee in his tin cup.

      Finally she asked, “May I call you by your given name, as well?”

      He reached into the wooden box that rested next to him and pulled out a second tin cup. “My name’s Tom.”

      Another step in the right direction.

      “I may not be one to take orders,” she added. “But you’ll find that I’m not afraid of hard work.”

      He filled the second cup with coffee. “I saw you tending Sarah Jane and Erin.”

      She waited for him to continue, for him to utter some kind of compliment or recognition of all she’d done to assist Erin yesterday and through the night by wiping the dust and perspiration from her brow, feeding her and changing the chamber pot.

      When no other words followed, she supposed that was all he was going to grant her. She’d just have to be happy with that.

      He handed the coffee to her, and she took the tin cup from him, being careful not to burn herself.

      “Where do you plan to take Sarah Jane and Erin?” she asked.

      “To stay with a woman named Hannah.”

      “Who is she?”

      “A friend.” A slow smile broke across his face, reaching his eyes and softening his expression. “She’s a good woman, the finest one you’ll ever meet. Sarah Jane and Erin will be safe there—and well cared for.”

      Katie’s heart tumbled in her chest, although she wasn’t sure why. Surprised by Tom’s obvious respect and affection for the woman, she supposed. And curiosity, too.

      Was he courting Hannah? Or was she merely a friend, as he’d said?

      Katie took a sip of the hot, bitter coffee and bit back a grimace, wishing she had some cream and sugar to temper the taste. Yet she knew better than to voice a complaint. Instead, she relished the warmth it provided in the crisp morning hour as dawn broke over their campsite and accepted it as the first sign of their truce.

      “How will Hannah feel about you bringing a couple of women with you and asking her to keep us until you return?” Katie asked.

      “She’s used to me bringing home strays.”

      Katie didn’t like being referred to as a stray, and that’s certainly what Tom had implied. She hadn’t led the same kind of life that Erin had, although smudged in dirt and covered in trail dust, they all seemed to be the same—except for the bumps and bruises Erin still bore.

      Katie had half a notion to give Tom a piece of her mind for implying otherwise, but she wasn’t about to hurt Erin’s feelings, should she be awake and listening. Nor did she want their fragile truce to suffer a setback. So she kept her thoughts to herself.

      Still, she didn’t want to be a burden to a woman she’d never met, although she wouldn’t mind a bit if Hannah got angry at Tom for bringing her a wagonload of trouble.

      * * *

      By the third day, the wind and sun had chapped and burned Katie’s lips and cheeks. Sitting on the hard wooden slats had given her a backache and a crick in her neck, but she hadn’t uttered a single complaint. The journey hadn’t been easy on any of them, especially Erin, even though she’d managed to sleep through most of it, thanks to the medication Dr. Hennessy had told them to give her.

      An hour ago, they’d stopped long enough to eat hardtack, stale bread and apples for the noon meal, then they’d started out once again.

      “How much farther until we reach Hannah’s place?” Katie asked Tom.

      “Late this afternoon or early evening.”

      Katie could hardly wait to be out of the wagon for good. She wondered if Tom was as eager to get there as she was. Most likely. He clearly cared about Hannah and undoubtedly missed her.

      Again, she found herself curious about their relationship.

      “I suppose Hannah will be happy to see you,” she said.

      As Tom flicked the reins along the backside of the team, the wagon swayed, causing his arm to brush against hers again, a warm touch she’d grown used to, an intimacy she’d actually found rather nice and comforting.

      “Hannah will welcome me with open arms,” he said.

      Katie suspected as much and, if truth be told, she couldn’t help feeling a bit apprehensive at meeting Tom’s lady friend.

      As the day wore on, her apprehension and discomfort grew steadily.

      By the time the sun had lowered in the west, perspiration had dampened her collar and the fabric under her arms. Dust powdered her skin in spite of the long sleeves she wore, and the sun had no doubt burned her nose and cheeks.

      She must be a sight. Yet, in spite of her reluctance to meet the woman herself, Katie looked forward to arriving at Hannah’s house if it meant that she could stretch her legs and, hopefully, soak in a warm, soapy tub.

      “How are our passengers faring?” Tom asked.

      Katie glanced over her shoulder and spotted the child holding a rag doll while watching over a drowsy Erin, who’d had another dose of medication after they’d had their midday meal.

      Sarah Jane turned, smiled softly and gave a little wave. What a sweet child. She seemed to like Tom, which was a bit surprising. Katie would think she’d find him intimidating. Of course, a six-year-old was easily swayed by lemon drops, handcrafted moccasins and the easy smiles that lit his eyes.

      “They’re both doing just fine,” Katie said, as she scanned her surroundings.

      It would be dark soon, which meant they were drawing near the end of their journey.

      Up ahead, just beyond a small orchard chock-full of peaches to tempt hungry travelers, a white clapboard house sat surrounded by a whitewashed picket fence. Bright red geraniums blossomed in a planter beneath a single window in the front.

      The two-story structure was clearly a home to someone, and it warmed Katie’s heart to gaze