High Country Bride by Linda Lael Miller Read Free Book Online

wit me,” he said. “I promise you that.” He offered his arm, and she laid a hand on the inside of his elbow. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “There’s a dining room inside the hotel if you need something to eat. The food’s nothing special, but it’ll hold you until we get home.” Before she could answer, he went on.“The mercantile down the street carries a few ladies’ things. Is there anything you need before we set out?”
    Emmeline blushed. “I couldn’t eat a thing,” she said honestly.“I’d like to—to freshen up a little, though.”
    He smiled his understanding. Pointing to the alleyway between the saloon and the stage depot, he said, “There’s a privy out back. You’ll find water and soap for washing up on the bench around the side.”
    Emmeline’s heart sank. She’d tried to prepare herself for the frontier, during the long trip west, giving due consideration to all manner of possibilities, both cheerful and sobering, but not once, in all those flights of fancy, had she reflected upon the probable state of the plumbing.
    She hesitated, then collected herself and marched into the alley.
    The privy was a true abomination, built of weathered wood and tilting distinctly to one side, but nature would not be denied. Holding her breath against the stench, Emmeline entered beneath a sign that read CLOZ THE DOR , worked the latch, and attended to her business with all possible haste. She came out gasping, and perhaps a little green, minutes later, and hastily washed at the community bucket.
    When she gained the main street again, still shuddering a little, she saw that Jeb or the stagecoach driver had loaded her belongings into the bed of a small wagon, drawn by two sturdy black horses. She checked to make sure everything was secure, cast a look of resignation toward the saloon, where her bridegroom evidently preferred to pass his time, and turned to Jeb, who helped her up into the box, rounded the wagon, and climbed deftly up beside her.
    I will not cry, she promised herself sternly.
    Jeb indicated the freight in back with a toss of his head. “Looks like you’re pretty well outfitted,” he said, probably to make conversation.“That’s good, since you’d have to send to San Francisco if you wanted anything fancy.”
    She smoothed her skirts, patted her hair. Nodded to let him know she was listening. She didn’t trust herself to speak just then, for she seemed to be wearing her emotions on her sleeve. She did not wish to make a poor impression on her new family.
    “You’re sure you don’t want something to eat before we leave?” Jeb persisted gently. “It’s more than two hours to the ranch, and that’s if we don’t run into any kind of trouble along the way.”
    She shook her head, straightened her spine, and fixed her eyes on the road ahead.“I’ll be just fine,” she said, and tried with all her might to believe it.
     
    The fight over, and his opponent snoozing on the billiard table, Rafe watched as Charlie Biggam, the stagecoach driver, stepped into the saloon and started toward the bar.
    “Evenin’, Rafe,” Charlie said.
    Rafe nodded.“Evenin’.”
    Charlie glanced toward the billiard tale, where Jake Fink was starting to come around, groaning a little. “You and him get to bickering over fencing off the open range again?” he asked.
    Rafe set his jaw, swirled his beer around in the mug. “Damn sodbuster,” he said.“If Jake had his way, the whole territory would be crisscrossed with barbed wire.”
    Charlie signaled to the bartender, who brought him his usual, a double shot of whiskey. “Brought in an interestin’ passenger today,” he remarked.
    Rafe’s mind snagged on the woman he’d seen out in the street, right after Jake had sucker punched him. She was a pretty little thing, he recalled now, working his jaw to make sure it wasn’t broken. He wondered if she was taken.“A lady?” he asked.
    Charlie nodded, smiling a little.“Nice-lookin’,” he said.