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"Hold still and behave!" he scolded. "It was easier cleaning up Devil City of gunslingers than keeping tabs on you."
"I have a mission," she announced, almost cringing at the words that sounded as though they came from Preacher Jacob's mouth.
"Lord help me, a woman with a mission," Zac said with a rough shake of his head.
"It's important, Zac." Prudence's tone was soft now.
Her voice was low and his name sounded sweet on her lips.
Zac's dark brown eyes settled with a strange intensity upon her face. He took note once more of her fatigue and weariness, apparent in the gray half circles beneath her eyes and the gentle droop of her lids. The West had a way of draining a new arrival, replacing whatever energy it had robbed with a quiet strength and leaving the individual changed forever.
For the better, Zac had always felt.
He wished he could allow Prudence her "mission," even if it was a daydream. He would have enjoyed watching the woman who would materialize and grow in strength and beauty. She reminded him of a long blooming flower left neglected on the vine. Given the proper attention and care, she would flourish and outshine all others.
I could provide what she needed. The crazy thought was a jolt to his senses. "You're going back."
"I won't!" she said emphatically.
"Your father said you didn't take orders well."
"My father knows me well enough; therefore he won't be disappointed when you return without me."
Zac pulled her closer to him. "You're going back."
Prudence hated those words and, at the moment, Zac Stewart. She was about to tell him just that when a male voice interrupted.
"Excuse me, ma'am. Is this gentleman bothering you?"
Prudence smiled at the portly man from the train station and his friend beside him.
Zac turned quickly, slipping his arm protectively around her waist and greeting the men with that captivating smile of his. "Gentlemen, it is so nice to see that a lady is so well-protected in your town, especially when that lady happens to be my wife."
His emphasis on the word wife caused the men to grin and shake their heads as though they understood.
Their action irritated Prudence. She opened her mouth to correct the situation, but Zac's biting fingers at her waist instead brought a strange and most unladylike sound from her.
The two men tipped their hats and walked on.
Zac's hand remained firm on her waist as he urged her to walk. "You should clear your throat before you attempt to speak, dear."
"You should keep your hands where they belong."
Zac squeezed her waist. "But they are where they belong, around my loving wife."
Prudence tipped her head up and to the side to look at him. His shoulder caught the brim of her hat and knocked it askew. She tried to right it but only made it worse.
"Take it and those stupid gloves off," Zac ordered.
Prudence attempted to stop in mid-stride, but Zac's firm hold wouldn't permit it. They kept walking.
"A lady always wears her hat and gloves when out," Prudence said, sounding like a schoolteacher instructing a student.
"Not out west," Zac corrected. "Here a woman has no use for a fancy bonnet except maybe for church services. And gloves . . . well, gloves are worn when tending the garden or driving a team. You’ll find no use for your fancy wears and airs out here."
"Proper attire and manners have a place even in the wild West."
"That they do. In the ladies' journals the women receive from back east."
"You're impossible."
"No, practical."
"Where are you taking me?"
"To the hotel."
Prudence stopped dead still, forcing Zac to do the same.
She raised her finger, pointing it in his face. "I refuse, absolutely refuse, to share a room with you again." Her face turned scarlet as several women passing by stared in disapproval.
Zac hid his merriment well, only allowing himself a sly smile. "Did I ask you to share my room?"
Prudence eyed him suspiciously.
Zac squeezed her chin playfully. "I need to get my bag and settle my account there. Then we'll be off."
"Where?"
"The train station. Well be taking that train, but once in Hastings, we'll be heading in a different direction."
She didn't comment. She was happy they were going to Hastings. At least she was headed in the right direction. She could always find a way to escape him. She had done so once, and she could do it again.
They entered the small hotel.
"Can I trust you to sit here while I see to things?" Zac asked. "Or must I keep my hands upon you?"
Prudence sat down in the chair, finally adjusting her hat to fit properly. "I intend to take that train with or without you, and most certainly without your hands on my person."
"You mean you won't give me any trouble until we get to Hastings?"
"Correct," she announced. "Now please hurry. We don't want to miss the train."
