Page 12 of The Prospector's Only Prospect
“That I was sullying her name for my own purposes. Humiliating as the court proceedings were, the worst part was realizing how willing Ben was to ruin me for his own gain. He even took our townhouse. I was left with nothing despite the fact we bought it with money my uncle had saved for me all those years after my parents passed. I thought Ben and I were in love, that I was making a good home for us and our future family, but he strayed after only a few months of marriage. Then to be so cruel on top of that? Frankly, Virgil, your lecture on how selfish men can be was unnecessary. I am well acquainted with what snakes some are. That’s why—”
She cut herself off, aware of the precarious position she was in.
He gave her a prompting look to continue.
“Why I’m glad we’re not marrying,” she finished. If he took offense, she couldn’t help it. She was being as honest as she knew how and lifted her chin with what self-respect she had left. “I don’t want a man making false promises and leaving me to suffer for his mistakes.”
He snorted, and she raised her brows at him.
“That’s also the reason I’m glad we’re not marrying.”
A fresh stab of rejection went into her, but she ignored it.
“Gosh, it’s almost as though we were made for each other.” She spoke lightly, trying to disguise the catch of hurt in her voice. “That’s funny.”
“Sure is.”
About as funny as a dropped ice cream at a rained-out picnic.
…
Virgil fed and watered the oxen, then returned to the small fire, where Marigold was warming the last of her stew. They ate while watching the sliver of a moon rise over the white peaks above them.
“It’s pretty here,” she said softly. “I’ve always felt very vulnerable with only the prairie sky around me. But with mountains… They’re like guardians watching over us.”
He wondered how much of her vulnerability and desire for protection came from leaving a failed marriage and moving into the unrest of Kansas Territory.
She brought her gaze down from the sky and looked at him, her face a little flushed from the fire. “That must sound strange when you can at least see what’s coming out on the prairie. Should I really look out for all those predators you mentioned?”
“Yes. And bobcat, lynx, coyotes. Hell, if you come face-to-face with a moose, you head the other way, pronto. Mountain goats can be territorial, but they’re pretty shy.”
“I was hoping you were teasing me,” she said on a sigh.
“Let’s not make a habit of lying to one another.”
“Deal.” She scraped up the last bite of her stew. “We had a rattlesnake in the woodshed one spring. That’s the most dangerous animal I’ve ever encountered.”
“You might see one of those here, too,” he said.
“For heaven’s sake! I’m starting to think I’ll be lucky if I’m only attacked by aman.”
Andhewas starting to think her sense of humor was morbid enough to fit in around here. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from showing his amusement.
“Where, um, will we sleep?” she asked with a glance around. “That will be safe, I mean?”
“About that.” He scratched under his beard. “I usually sleep on the ground by the fire.”
“Can I sleep in the wagon?”
“Sure,” he said, “if you want to empty it, then freeze to death. I only have the one bedroll.”
Her spine straightened and her mouth soured up.
“Like I said, I wasn’t expecting you. If I wanted to attack you, I’d have done it already. We’re going to lie back-to-back, same as I’ve done with men. Fart if you want to. Nothing you do is going to affect me in any way.” That’s what he kept telling himself, anyway, since he’d realized how ill-prepared he was for company.
She was still looking as though she’d sat on a pin.
“Wash these in the stream.” He thrust his emptied plate at her. “You can tinkle on the other side of the wagon if you need to. Then we’ll turn in. It’ll be a long day tomorrow. I want an early start.”
