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She blinked once, then again, and flushed. “Oh, I’m… I’m sorry. I have to admit you caught me by surprise.”
“The feeling is mutual,” Lane murmured. I couldn’t miss the subtle sarcasm in his tone, but she did. Yes, she was quite surprising. If we’d known she was going to be this pretty and full of… sass, we’d have ignored the weakened timbers at the mine and let the whole thing cave in on itself.
“May I introduce Mr. Lane Haskins?”
Lane tipped his hat. I could tell he liked what he saw up close just as much.
“He is quite trustworthy, and also as you’ve just discovered, dry-witted,” I added. “While we are not brothers, we were raised together from when we were small.”
I left out the details about our mothers being whores and instead of being raised in a traditional home, we grew up in a whorehouse in Denver.
Lane spoke up, perhaps before I told her more about him. “Do you have a bag?” She only carried her heavily laden reticule.
She looked down, as if surprised it was not with her. “Oh, I left it with the man at the livery.”
Nodding, I took her elbow once again, was reminded by her size at the feel of her dainty bones beneath my fingers. “Excellent, for we need to return there for our animals. We will travel to Jasper today as it stays light so long this time of year. You are not too weary to ride after your journey this morning?”
Lane pointed to the right and he led the way toward the livery.
“No, I am quite well. How far is Jasper?”
We weaved and dodged others on the boardwalk and I couldn’t help but notice the way other men stared at Miss Strong. No, Mrs. Drews, for she was my wife. I wasn’t jealous. In fact, I preened inside knowing the men could look at her but Lane and I were the only ones who could touch.
“We will travel up the canyon and into the mountains. We should be there just after dark, if all goes well.”
“And this is where you live?” she asked.
“Lane lives there.” I tilted my head toward him. “I am the new doctor in a town called Slate Springs. It is above Jasper, higher in the mountains.” As we walked across the street, a man riding a horse came barreling our way, the hooves kicking up clouds of dust, so I gave her elbow a squeeze and we stopped to let him pass.
“I see,” she said as we continued on.
Her simple response was the last of our conversation before the livery. I doubted she saw at all, being from Kansas where there were no mountains, but Lane and I looked forward to giving her the full details of our arrangement.
“Are you hungry, Miss Strong?” Lane asked. “We’ve arranged for some food for our return trip, but you must have worked up an appetite playing cards.”
We stopped in front of the livery; the strong scent of animals came from the open entryway.
Looking into the sun, she squinted up at Lane. It was difficult to tell if she was blushing or if she was overly warm from the sun. For July, it was quite hot, although Lane and I were used to the cooler temperatures of the higher elevations.
The man from the livery came out from the building, gave us a little wave, then turned back to retrieve our animals.
I had yet to release her elbow, so I steered her into the depths of the stable. We passed the man who led one of our animals out to be tied to a hitching rail. “I need a private moment with my wife,” I told him as we went into a dimly lit empty stall.
Offering a shrug in passing, he continued out without a word. Either he had quite a few chats with a wife of his own or he didn’t care.
“You saw that at the saloon, did you?” she asked, looking from Lane to me, then back.
“We did,” I said.
“Are you planning on shooting us?” Lane asked.
She narrowed her eyes. “Do I have reason to do so?”
I held out my hand. Waited.
It took her a moment to understand my tacit request. Reaching into her reticule, she pulled out the gun, placed it in my palm. Quickly, I checked it for bullets, then tucked the muzzle into the front of my pants.
“Careful,” she warned. “You wouldn’t want to shoot anything off.”
