Sweet Boundless by Kristen Heitzmann Read Free Book Online Page B

in?”
    “I ate at the hotel.”
    She sagged. He had risen and eaten without her. Her spirit shrank. He’d gone to Mrs. Barton, who was, no doubt, all smiles. But what would the woman think to have him there instead of eating what his wife provided? What could his wife provide?
    She almost stamped her foot. What did he expect? But then she knew. Nothing. He expected nothing, wanted nothing.
    “I’ll be leaving soon. This should tide you over.” He held out a wad of bills.
    She looked from the money to his face, swimming in the fog. “What do you mean? I’m going with you. You said—”
    “I can’t take you in fog like this. Something’s moving in, and it could turn nasty.”
    “Then you shouldn’t be out either. We’ll go tomorrow.”
    “I can’t waste a day.”
    Oh, a day spent with her would be wasted? “How long will you be gone?”
    He turned away. “A while.”
    “A month? Two?”
    “There’s enough there to last you.”
    But not to get what she needed. There was no Italian market in Crystal. She shrugged and reached for the bills. “I’ll find someone else to take me.” She waved her hand. “You can’t be expected to, such a gross’uomo, so busy and important. I’ll go myself.”
    “You can’t, Carina. The snows’ll come any day.”
    They’d already had several dustings, but what did she care? She waved a hand. “You don’t need to worry. Go. Do your business.”
    He took a step and clutched her arms. “Look at me, Carina. You can’t leave Crystal.”
    She said nothing.
    He blew through his teeth. “All right, tell me what you need. I’ll go to Fairplay and back.”
    She raised her chin but said nothing. He’d said she could buy for herself, and she wanted to. She would brave the fog or the snows or anything else to get the precious ingredients she needed.
    His hands softened on her arms. “Carina, be reasonable. I can’t risk you—”
    “Why not? Then you’d be out of this ‘flawed liaison.’ ”
    He dropped his hold, his eyes as menacing as the fog, their gray even darker. The dog whined at his side, sensing his master’s animosity. “Fine. Be ready to go in an hour.” He jammed the wadded bills back into his pocket.
    Carina bit her lip to hold back the smile and hid the satisfaction that burst within her. No good flaunting her victory. He was contrary enough to take it back. “I’ll be ready.” She hurried into Mae’s.
    Quillan stalked away. Why should he have thought she’d be reasonable? What possible reason was there to suspect her capable of good sense? He’d worked it all out at the graveside. He’d leave her the money, all his profits from his latest deliveries—except what he needed for his trip down and to procure goods to resell in Leadville.
    He’d been freighting to Leadville the last two months, close enough to monitor what was happening in Crystal without being there and lucrative enough to keep him busy. He’d hardly rested, simply changing horses but not giving himself the benefit of even one day free. On the wagon he occupied his mind with literature and poetry he’d read, memorizing it and drilling himself until he had it perfect. Anything to keep his thoughts at bay.
    Why had he married Carina, invoked the wrath of Berkley Beck, put Cain at risk, left him unprotected . . . ? Quillan gripped his forehead and rubbed his palm down his face. So Carina wanted to see the freighter’s life? He’d show her. He’d let her feel the backbreaking hours on the box, eat the dust, though the fog would keep that down some.
    He looked up. The cloud was sitting solidly on the mountain. Every surface and blade of grass was already turning a fuzzy white. A hoarfrost. Snow would follow. It was insane to take her out with the possibility of a storm. He should pack up and go, leave her to her own devices.
    But she was just foolish enough to try to make the trip alone. Hadn’t she come to Crystal that way? However, that was in June— risky enough, but not the