The Best Man (Blue Heron, #1)

“If you can’t afford a room,” she said, staring down at her boots, “then you stay here. But I’m going.” This was the best thing she could do for herself. “I’m so tired. I need the rest.”


“Are you defying me?” he asked incredulously. He dropped his coffee cup and his hands opened and closed at his sides.

Exhaustion washed through her body, and her shoulders slumped. She was fatigued to the bone. So weary of trying to please him, of trying to always say and do the right thing, the thing that wouldn’t make him angry. Right now she was worn-out enough to say things she might not have been brave enough to say otherwise.

“Why didn’t you tell me that Alex and Freddy would have given me my share of the inheritance even if I’d dropped out?” The reason she still felt weak and half-ill was because Ward had decided she had to work the drag even if it killed her. She couldn’t stop thinking about that. He had endangered her life even after Alex and Freddy had guaranteed her share of the money.

“Don’t be stupid. We wouldn’t have seen a penny if you’d dropped out! I see through those two. Believe me, they wanted you gone so they would have a larger share for themselves!”

Before the drive began, he might have convinced her, but not now. Her relationship with her sisters was changing. She liked their company, and she was beginning to respect their courage and determination. She cherished this new connection and growing closeness. More than she wanted to win this contest, she wanted her sisters’ acceptance and respect. The realization astonished her and raised a film of moisture to her eyes.

“Are you coming to town with us?” Freddy called.

“I’ll be right there.” When was the last time Ward had smiled? When had she last felt any tenderness toward him? “Please try to understand. All I want to do is sleep for two days.”

For the first time since he’d come calling, she walked away from him without a backward glance and without caring what he thought.


Dal tied John’s cows to the tail of the wagon, then helped Les into the back. He would have assisted Freddy except she slapped his hands away. She sat on the far side of the driver’s seat, as far from any contact with him as she could get, her hat pulled down over her eyes.

Alex rolled up to the wagon. “Buy as many eggs as you can find.” She spoke to Dal, but her gaze fixed on John, who sat in the back of the wagon with Les.

“You can come with us,” Dal suggested. He planned to drop John off, check Les into one hotel and Freddy into another, then purchase the supplies Alex needed and bring them back to camp. Then, finally, he would return to Fort Worth and Freddy.

Alex had never impressed him as a fidgety type of woman, but she was now. Her hands moved over the wheels of the chair, across her lap, up to her hair, touched her lips, then returned to her lap. She shook her head. “No, maybe I’ll go into town tomorrow with Luther.” A small smile curved her lips. “Good-bye, John. Have someone change the dressing on your ribs.”

Dal flicked the reins over the horses’ backs, gave Grady a wave, and one to Caleb, whom he was leaving in charge of the herd. “You didn’t bring a satchel,” he said, flapping the reins.

“I don’t need one,” Freddy snapped. “I’m only doing this because you swore you’d force me if I didn’t come willingly.”

“That’s correct.” He pressed his lips together and considered. Clearly, she wasn’t going to help relieve an awkward situation. All right, he’d add another stop to his list of chores. She was, by God, going to cooperate, like it or not. He would buy her a pretty nightgown and a ribbon for her hair. “You are one exasperating woman,” he muttered grimly.

“Got to hell, Frisco.”

“You’re supposed to say that afterward, not before.”

He let John out of the wagon when the man tapped him on the shoulder. Got Les settled into a quiet hotel away from the main street. He all but shoved Freddy into a small hotel at the other end of town, checked them in as man and wife, which bothered him some, and caused her to lift both eyebrows. Then he ordered her a bath, slapped the room key in her palm, and warned her that she better be there when he returned.

That done, he purchased the supplies Alex had requested. Then he stopped by the telegraph office and sent a message to Emile Julie in New Orleans. Before he drove back to the herd, curiosity prompted him to stop by the sheriff’s office where he asked if the sheriff knew anything about the naked man he’d found on the range.

“That’s John McCallister,” the sheriff informed him, standing beside Dal’s wagon, where he could keep an eye on the cowboys whooping it up before they headed north again. He tapped his temple.

“McCallister’s crazy as a coot. Been wandering around out there since the war ended.”

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