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Zac smiled. He liked strong women, soft and responsive to the touch, but strong-natured. And Prudence surely was that. He wondered if she would be responsive to his touch. He would love to wrap his arms around those full hips, bury his face in her soft breasts, and taste her.
Roasted beef, potatoes, turnip greens, and hot bread dripping with honey were on the night's menu.
Prudence sipped at the welcoming hot tea as they waited for their food.
Zac drank cider. The young woman serving them left not only a full pitcher for his use but also a smile that hinted interest.
"Mr.—" Prudence immediately amended the slip of her tongue when she caught the warning glare in his eyes. "Zac, I would like to discuss my reason for coming west. Perhaps then you will understand why I can't possibly return to Boston with you."
Zac nodded his consent as the food was brought and placed on the table. They helped themselves to generous portions from serving dishes and took several delicious bites. Prudence was about to continue when Zac interrupted with a question.
"Don't you ever take your gloves off?" he asked.
She had removed her linen duster and her hat, but the gloves remained. She glanced down at them, not allowing his query to upset her. She was accustomed to handling such situations, and she did so now with calm aplomb as she raised her eyes to meet his. "My hands are soiled and sweaty from the long trip. Until I can properly clean them, I prefer to eat with my gloves on."
"Look, Prudence," he said, leaning forward, "everything out here gets soiled and sweaty from time to time. Water isn't always conveniently located. We make do. It doesn't matter if your hands aren't perfect."
She thought about her two crooked and useless fingers and the way her friends had often made fun of them. Perfection in her branch of society was important. "Yes, it does," she said softly.
Zac found her Bostonian manners grating here in the West. He'd love to strip them away from her, along with that confining gray dress and the corset and undergarments beneath. Damn, but he couldn't stop thinking of her in a sexual manner.
He'd been too long without a woman that was the problem. And since she was here, his mind just naturally wandered in that direction. That was it, pure and simple. Her full breasts and hips had nothing to do with it… absolutely nothing. Then why the hell did he want so badly to feel her naked beneath him?
"Zac?"
"Sorry, my thoughts were wandering."
"Pleasant wanderings, I hope," she said, her tone sincere.
"Very pleasant," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Now where were we?"
"I had hoped to explain my reason for traveling here."
"Which is?"
Prudence didn't falter in tone or response. "I am trying to locate my mother."
Zac sat staring at her for several silent moments.
"Excuse me, I don't mean to appear insensitive, but your father informed me that your mother had died several years ago."
"Yes. That was what I was told and believed until my grandmother informed me of the truth."
"Your father knows your mother isn't dead and has kept it from you?" he asked doubtfully.
"Correct, and I wish to locate her. I hired a man to track down her whereabouts, and the last place he could trace her was here in Wells City."
"And you didn't mention any of this to your father? Didn't confront him with the information? Ask questions?"
"No," she hesitated a moment. "I thought he would discourage my search for her."
For a minute, Zac thought she might be telling the truth. Then he recalled James Winthrop's description of his daughter's tenacity when she set out to do something. Was a lie beyond a means to an end for her? "I think it best if you return to Boston, confront your father with this, and allow him to help you."
Prudence could see his doubt. "You don't believe me?"
"It's a bit farfetched."
"I'm telling you the truth."
Her look was gentle, compelling, and trustworthy. Her tender expression was so opposite her usual resolute nature that it almost did him in… almost, but not quite.
"That's not for me to decide. We'll return to Boston and let your father settle this."
"I'm not going back to Boston until I find her," Prudence said, her tone cold, breaking her soft demeanor.
Zac tried to remain calm, but he was growing extremely tired of her dictating to him. "You're returning to Boston with me. We leave in the morning."
"You can't make me —"
"I can make you do anything, honey," he said gently, much too gently.
"I wish to go to my room," Prudence said. She needed distance from him so she could find a solution to this perplexing problem.
"Excellent idea. We both could do with a good night's sleep."
Prudence retrieved her linen duster and hat from the nearby chair and followed Zac to the front desk.
