Page 37 of Mail-Order Lady

Whoever was out there might have crept in while Robert dragged out the carcass. Even now he might…

Fear pounded through his body as he reached the glow of light. Both horses nickered at his appearance, but he ignored them. Just charged on to the wagon. He had his weapon raised and ready to shoot as he approached the rig, though he kept it aimed away from where the women should be.

Clara’s face appeared above the side. “Robert.” Her blonde hair haloed around her just like an angel. A beautiful, unhurt angel. Her wide eyes searched him. “What’s wrong?”

He lowered the rifle. Made himself breathe.

“Nothing.” The word came out too hard, so he tried again. “Nothing’s wrong. I wanted to check on you.”

Mrs. Wang pushed up beside Clara. Her dark braid was mussed and her dark gaze narrowed in the shadows. “You are hurt?”

He shook his head. “No. Not hurt at all.” She must think he’d come over to be tended.

He took a step back. “Just making my rounds before I bed back down.”

Yet he couldn’t make himself step farther away from them. The wagon wasn’t far from where he’d been keeping watch, but whoever spied on them could approach the rig from the dark side. He might not even see the man before he attacked.

Maybe he should watch from within the wagon. That way he could see all sides around it.

He glanced back toward the fire. Then up to the horses. The animals stood with their heads drooping, settling back into the night.

He turned back to the women. “Think there’s room in there for me too? The ground’s a bit damp.” The lie came far too easily. Not even a thought before it slipped out.

Mrs. Wang grunted and pushed a crate toward the front of the rig. “Come.”

He moved around to the rear and eyed the space. The women were already creating an empty section at the tailgate.

Beside Clara.

A new pressure twisted inside him. Sitting beside Clara. He’d stay upright of course, but she’d be lying down. Sleeping beside him.

He swallowed down the knot in his throat and forced his focus to their surroundings. As far as he could see in the darkness, nothing moved.

He climbed up into the wagon. He hadn’t even taken his blankets out yet, and his bedroll now lay stretched out beside Clara. How had she done that in the space of a single minute?

Sitting on the blanket, he positioned himself against the side at the back of the wagon so the open bed gave him a clear line of sight across the camp.

He settled the rifle across his legs and kept the shot bag over his shoulder.

Beside him, Clara had eased back down onto her bedroll. She lay on her back, her shawl still wrapped around her shoulders against the cold, her blanket drawn up.

She closed her eyes, and within a minute, her breathing came careful and even. But not deep enough for her to be asleep. Was she trying to pretend she didn’t feel him near her? Or maybe this situation didn’t bother her at all. Maybe she truly was settling into sleep.

Mrs. Wang’s breathing had already deepened.

He kept his focus roaming…across the camp to the right of the wagon, the darkness on the far side, the shadows on the left. Every part of him strained for an unusual sound.

The horses stood quiet too, heads low again, the brief terror of the wildcat already faded. The fire he had built up was burning lower again, throwing its uneven light against the side of the cliff. Past the trees, the dark held.

The minutes passed.

Clara shifted once, settling deeper into her bedroll, and her shoulder came to rest against his thigh.

He went completely still.

She didn’t wake. Her breathing had finally evened into the long, slow rhythm of genuine sleep. Whatever tension had kept her hovering at the surface had finally released, and now she lay with her face turned slightly toward him and her shoulder pressed warm and solid against his leg.

He made himself look at the tree line.