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Shit. Was I going to have to fight my brother for her? We hadn’t done that since we were teenagers and neither of us got the girl, only black eyes.
I made my feet move again. We quickly closed the distance to her. She didn’t look up at the sounds of our boots on the rugged boardwalk, but when our bodies blocked out the sun. Only then did she lift her chin and drop her book to her lap.
“Oh. Hello,” she murmured, startled. She pushed her glasses up.
Her eyes were the greenest I’d ever seen. Like cottonwoods dappled in sunlight. That was my first thought when she glanced at us. She stood abruptly, the book falling to the ground. We stepped back to give her room and I knelt down to pick it up. With one knee bent, we were just about eye level.
I glanced down at the book. The Mines of Colorado by Ovando J. Hollister. Intriguing. She was not only a bluestocking, but one interested in learning about her new surroundings. She couldn’t know that we owned a mine, a mine so new it couldn’t be listed on the pages. I held the book out and she took it from me, her fingers brushing mine. While hers were gloved, I could still feel her warmth.
My cock stirred at the slight brush, the way her eyes widened.
Startled, she tugged away, her book pressed against her belly. I wasn’t sure if she was unsettled because I knew the topic of her reading or because we’d brushed fingers. It mattered not. I wanted her more, either way. This close, I could study her better. While she was very petite, she was not small. Her body was lush and soft with curves a man wanted to hold. There wasn’t a sharp edge to her, which was good, because I was all rough and hard.
Color flagged her round cheeks and her lips clamped together. Somehow, her shoulders went back impossibly further and she stood even straighter. I found it amusing and arousing, for while she was a prickly thing, she also had very lovely, very curvaceous breasts she thrust toward my face. I doubted she knew of her enticing actions and that only made me want to muss her up. And make her cry my name.
“Miss Jamison?” I asked. Legally, she was Mrs. Thomkins, but I didn’t feel comfortable with saying that since she’d never meet the man.
She gave a slight nod of her head and a wayward curl fell down and brushed her cheek. Watching her tuck it absently behind her ear, I had to assume it was second nature for her to do so. Her eyes widened slightly behind her simple glasses and a small smile formed on her full lips and I realized she must assume I was Melvin.
I would have paid handsomely to know what she was thinking. Did she find the idea of me as her husband appealing? The thought of her being mine sat right with me. Hell, yes, it did. I usually didn’t follow my sister’s advice, but I was thankful I’d taken her tip and trimmed my beard so I didn’t look like the wild mountain man I’d turned into in the past year. I wanted this woman to like what she saw, because I did. I liked the look of her very much.
“I am Knox Dare.” I eyed her as she frowned, realizing I wasn’t her husband. Then she glanced at Jed.
“As you can probably tell, we’re brothers.” He tipped his hat. “I’m Jed.”
A dimple appeared in her right cheek and I was entranced.
“I am sorry we were not here when the stage arrived. We are not used to one arriving early.”
“It is of no matter.” Her voice was soft, yet clear. “I am content on my own while I wait for Mr. Thomkins.”
Independence was a good thing, but I would not have her alone where some random miner might come and harass her. It was my job—our job—now to keep her safe, especially since Melvin would most definitely not be coming. I might not want Jed to have her, but he could damn well help keep her safe.
Remembering I held the ribbons in my hand, I thrust them toward her. “These are for you.”
Her eyes widened at my offering. So did Jed’s.
It was a delay, for I just wasn’t ready to tell her about Melvin yet.
“They are lovely. Blue is my favorite color. Thank you.” The smile she gave me changed her face entirely—and my desire to remain a bachelor. It was cruel and heartless to even think, but I was glad Melvin was dead, because now she could—no, would—
be mine.
“Are you going to kneel before her like a swain all day?” Jed’s words made me flush and I was thankful for my beard to hide it. His shove to my shoulder had me standing.
“Miss Jamison, I’m afraid we have some bad news,” Jed murmured.
She frowned then and I wanted to punch Jed for stripping her of that smile.
“Your, um, well, Mr. Melvin Thomkins passed away last week.”
Her frown dropped then and her face was completely expressionless.
“Oh, dear. Was he… was he an old man?”
The question answered much, for she had no idea whether her mail ordered husband was twenty or eighty.
“Thirty-five, perhaps.”
