Ana Seymour by Jeb Hunters Bride Read Free Book Online Page A

beside her, his leg touching hers, and, using a smaller, unlit log, maneuvered the burning ones into a more stable pyramid. “That ought to do it,” he said, pushing himself backward to sit beside her. Their legs still touched, and neither one pulled away.
    Kerry drew in a deep breath of warm air that smelled of dry meadow and smoke. “It’s a perfect night,” she said dreamily, looking up at the black velvet sky.
    Scott leaned back on his hands and looked upward, then turned his head to study her. “Yes, it is,” he answered finally. “When I set out on this journey, I had no idea just how perfect it was going to turn out to be.”
    His voice had grown unmistakably husky, and Kerry turned toward him in surprise. Their gaze held for a long minute, then Scott reached out a hand and gently pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over her forehead.
    His fingers were rough on her smooth skin, but she didn’t mind. They moved a little into her hair, a gentle caress. “I like your hair short,” Scott murmured. For once she was not wearing her big felt hat. She made no effort to resist his touch. The warm contact blended with the peacefulness of the night to make her relaxed and happy. He leaned closer until she could see the stubble of his whiskers. Perhaps he was going to kiss her, she thought in a kind of haze. Darkness had closed around them like a protective cloak. She wouldn’t mind if he did, she decided sleepily, and her eyes drifted closed.
    “Good evening!” came a deep voice from just beyond the light of the fire.
    Kerry and Scott pulled apart abruptly. Scott scowled into the darkness. “Hunter,” he acknowledged in an uncharacteristically gruff tone.
    Kerry’s cheeks were burning, though she didn’t know exactly why. She and Scott had not been doing anything wrong, but she felt like a child caught stealing cookies.
    Jeb Hunter moved to the other side of the fire and crouched down. “How’s the foot today, Kiernan?” he asked. There was an edge to his voice.
    Kerry straightened up farther and slid her leg away from contact with Scott’s. “It’s fine,” she said with a dry mouth. Her voice came out much too high. Forcing it to a lower register, she repeated, “The ankle’s nearly healed, I think.”
    The captain nodded, then looked from her to Scott and back again. He seemed at a loss as to what to say. After a moment the silence became awkward,and Kerry said, “Would you like a cup of coffee, Captain?”
    Scott made a slight grimace of annoyance at her invitation, but he recovered quickly. “Your duties must be about done for the day, Hunter.”
    Jeb gave a faint smile. “My duties won’t be done until I get you and everyone else on this train to California, Haskell.”
    “Done enough for a cup of coffee, at least.” Scott got to his feet and went to fetch a tin mug from the canvas sack that held the Gallivans’ dishes.
    Scott Haskell acted as if the wagon belonged to him rather than the two Irish lads, Jeb noticed, and tried to decide why the thought irritated him. He knew that part of the reason was simply that the affable young Haskell had declared his intentions of becoming a prospector. Jeb had left California and taken up his job as trail guide partly because he never again wanted to have anything to do with the gold rush fever. Whenever prospectors joined up with one of his wagon trains, he found himself wanting to shake them until that eager, hopeful look disappeared from their eyes.
    Scott returned to the fire, poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Jeb, who was still crouching at the other side of the fire. “Have a seat, Hunter,” Scott urged, now evidently resigned to the wagon master’s interruption of his private moment with Kerry.
    Jeb hesitated, then sat back on the ground and reached for the cup. “Much obliged,” he said tersely.
    “Are we keeping on schedule, Captain?” Kerry asked, this time remembering to keep her voice low.
    Jeb nodded. “We’ve been