The Best Man (Blue Heron, #1)

“I might nick you,” she murmured, feeling a need for some kind of explanation.

Taking the mirror from her hand, he gazed into it as if he hadn’t seen himself in a very long time. Finally, he took up the shears, revealing a full lower lip and a well-shaped upper lip. When he finished, he stood and looked down at her, a question in his grey eyes.

“You may have your supper now,” she said, smiling. Dressed, with his hair cut and beard trimmed close to his jaw, he was as unnervingly handsome as she had guessed he would be.

Again, he placed his hand gently on her shoulder, telling her not to rise, and helped himself to a ladle of stew and two biscuits. Instead of joining the men around the fire, he returned to Alex and sat on the ground beside her.

She should have finished washing the dishes in the wreck pan, should have laid out the items she would need for breakfast tomorrow. Instead, she sat quietly beside the man and observed him from the corners of her eyes.

He’d taken a napkin, which surprised her, as she always had to remind the drovers. And he handled his knife and fork like a gentleman. He didn’t slump. Everything about him intrigued her.

When he finished eating, he slipped his plate and flatware into the wreck pan, then bowed before he sat beside her again, now taking some interest in the campsite. He studied the men sitting around the fire, then looked toward the fire burning at the observers’ campsite. Turning to her, he lifted an eyebrow, which she interpreted as a question.

After a brief hesitation, she explained Joe’s will and the conditions, wondering as she did so why she was revealing personal matters to a stranger. Maybe it was because she felt a secret outpouring of gratitude for his obvious interest. She’d never expected a man to show this kind of interest in her ever again. Or maybe it was recognizing that tonight, with him beside her, she didn’t experience the aching loneliness that usually made her feel so hollow inside.


“If you didn’t want to talk to me,” Jack Caldwell said, gazing down into Freddy’s face, “then why did you come over to our camp?” A knowing smile opened beneath his gold mustache.

“Coming here had nothing to do with you. Les asked me to accompany her,” Freddy said, noticing that Les and Ward had disappeared. Probably they had ducked out of sight to exchange a few kisses. They were pledged to be married, after all. But it irritated her that Les had left her alone with Jack. She peered into the deep shadows between Luther’s wagon and Ward’s, wondering if they were hiding there.

“I think about you all the time, Fancy. I see you over there, watch you singing with the boys after supper.” When she didn’t say anything, he added in a low voice. “I miss you.”

“You’ll have the company of your future bride the day after tomorrow.” That’s when they would reach Fort Worth. And that’s when she would have to deal with Dal’s proposition. Pride told her to stick her nose in the air and refuse to go to a hotel with him. But her traitorous body yearned to discover if there was more to the mystery than what she’d experienced.

“You know, I’ve been thinking.” Lifting a hand, Jack touched her hair. “I sure hate to imagine you coming out of this drive with nothing to show for it. I can fix that for you.”

She jerked away and her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“If I were you, I’d be planning how I could get something no matter how many cattle make it to Abilene.”

“We’re going to win!”

He grinned. “No, you aren’t. But you don’t have to come out of this with nothing.”

“Damn it, if you have something to say, just say it.”

“Suppose you let some of those stragglers get lost along the way, or overlook finding a few strays after the next stampede. Maybe you aren’t as careful as you might be at the next river crossing and a few steers get washed away. If you agree to help out a little, I’m authorized to promise you enough money to set yourself up in a nice cozy theater in San Francisco.”

Heat flooded her face, and her hand dropped to the pistol on her hip. “You bastard. I ought to shoot you where you stand!”

“I’m just thinking of you,” he said in a low persuasive voice. “Agree to lose a few steers, and your worries are over. You get what you want no matter how many cattle you deliver.”

Fury shook her body. He was asking her to betray her sisters and all the effort they had put into preparing for this ordeal and all the hardships they had endured since. “I tried so hard to see something good in you,” she said in a low furious voice. “I wanted to like and respect you.”

Irritation flickered across his expression. “I have to back the winner. No reason you can’t do the same. We can make this a no-lose deal for you, Fancy honey. Think about it.”

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