Kate scoffed inwardly. Typical. He made a life-changing decision in a matter of days and then expected the world to conform to his every whim. What if Proctor didn’t want another outrider getting in the way of things? Defending the womenfolk—bah! Kate could show him a thing or two about how much defending she needed.
“But have you talked to Cyril Proctor?” Pa asked. “He’ll need to sign off on you stayin’ on.”
Andrew nodded, his black hair falling across his forehead. “Yessir, been to see him already. Everything’s dandy so longas I find my own victuals.”
“You’ll not want for food, Andrew,” Ma reassured him with a smile. “I’m sure another mouth to feed around our fire won’t make a dent in what we’ve brought along.”
“That’s mighty kind of you, ma’am. I intend to earn my keep however I can.”
Pa clapped him on the shoulder. “Just bring in a wee rabbit or two, and we’ll call it even.”
“I’ll do that, Mr. McGrath, and more, if I can,” Andrew said and unfolded his long legs. He stood, placing his black hat firmly on his head. “I’d best find my bedroll and turn in. Proctor says it’s an early mornin’; got to cover as much ground as we can,” he said, acclimatizing quickly to his newly acquired role. He shook hands with Pa and her brothers and tipped his hat to Ma. He turned to Kate, and she looked up to find his intense gaze locked on her face. “See you tomorrow, Miss Kate,” he said quietly, then left.
“Well,” Ma said as soon as he was out of earshot, “what a pleasant surprise!”
“Aye, and it’ll be good to have another young lad around,” Pa mused. “He’s a hard worker and one of the best shots I’ve seen. You never know when another gun could come in handy, you know, to protect the womenfolk.” He sent a playful wink in Kate’s direction, and she grinned back. They both knew she was nearly as good a shot as Andrew.
“He sure is determined,” Ian said thoughtfully, “to ride all the way out here without even knowing they’d take him on.”
Danny snorted in derision. “Determined? He’s downright crazy, that’s what.” He tossed another branch on the fire, sending up a shower of sparks. “The call of the wild must’ve bit him good and hard.”
Kate looked to where Andrew had disappeared into the night, remembering his dark, intense eyes, eyes that had followed her more and more over the past years, eyes she had thought she had left behind in St. Joe. Kate shivered slightly. She had the distinct impression it was morethan just the call of the wild that had sent Andrew in pursuit of this particular wagon train.
Chapter 4
JacobMunroeleanedbackagainst his saddle, the familiar smell of the worn leather as comforting as an old friend. It was his seat in the day and his pillow at night, and the closest thing to a home he knew. Whatever shack his father had holed up in didn’t count. If he was even still alive.
Jacob ran a hand through his dark, curly hair and sighed. Nights like this, he wished he did have a home, a real home—a place far away from where he grew up, a place where he could build a little ranch and put down roots. Who knows, maybe he’d even get himself a wife.
His deep blue eyes looked out into the night at the many cook fires of the circled wagon train. He could sense the excitement that charged the air. The collective dreams of all these travelers had fused together, solidifying until you could almost feel the presence of some unknown being vibrating with energy and purpose. Each of these people had something that drove them, something that brought them together on this journey—escaping poverty, pursuing wealth, following a dream. Jacob heaved another sigh. What did he have to live for besides the money he would earn by seeing this train through to Oregon?
“If you keep sighin’ like that, Jakey-boy, I’ll be inclined to think you’d gone and turned yourself into a dainty fe-male.”
Jacob smiled ruefully and glanced across the fire at his wiry traveling companion. He and Seb had grown up together in the mud of the shanty towns of St. Louis, living on air and the stories of California gold. Assoon as they had convinced themselves they needed to shave the peach fuzz on their chins, they had lit out of that miserable place, dreaming of scooping up dazzling nuggets with their bare hands, getting rich, and milking life for all it was worth. Nothing could stop them. The entire world was simply theirs for the taking. Then they ran out of money and supplies by the time they reached Independence.
Hiring on as outriders to a wagon train seemed like the next best thing. At least they were still moving forward. They had done the same thing ever since, scouting the trail, looking the Elephant square in the face, and doing it all again the next year.
Seb took a long pull on one of his ever-present cigarettes, a habit he had picked up at ten and nurtured until he smoked those things like they were water to a dying man. Blowing the smoke through a carefully trimmed handlebar mustache, he stretched out to his full height, a good half a foot less than Jacob’s six-foot frame. What Seb lacked in height he made up for with an ego only rivaled in size by the ten-gallon hat that rarely left his head. Jacob chuckled. He was just glad to be in Seb’s good books. He’d never have to worry about being on the wrong side of his pair of six shooters and trigger-happy fingers. It had gotten them in plenty of trouble over the years.
“I hope you’re not laughin’ at me, Jake,” Seb warned lazily.
Jacob smiled. “Naw, I was just thinkin’ of that time down in Jefferson when you landed us a night in the jailhouse over a lousy poker game and a mule nearly on its deathbed.”
“Ha! It was two mules nearly on their deathbed, if I remember rightly, and it was worth it a thousand times over, stickin’ it to that swanky city boy.” Seb put his hands behind his head and grinned at the stars, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. “Them were the good ol’ days.”
Jacob snorted. Twenty-two years old and here they were, reminiscing like a pair of crusty old men. Jacob hooked one muscled arm around hisraised knee, stretching the other boot to the fire. Maybe it really was time to settle down.
“There you go agin, sighin’ like a woman.” Seb looked over at him. “You’re not gonna go swoonin’ on me, are ya?”
Jacob ignored his friend’s mild insults, gaze fixed on the fire. “Ya know, Seb, I think it’s ’bout time we thought of settlin’ down.”
Seb raised an eyebrow in his direction. “What, you an’ me? No offense, Jake, but I don’t want to look at your scruffy face for the rest of my life.”
Jacob leaned back and bantered good-naturedly. “Goodness knows I wouldn’t take you for your cookin’!”
“You know full well that I make a mean rabbit stew,” Seb said as he clasped his hands over his chest and closed his eyes. “’Sides,” he added, “with all your sighin’ and swoonin’ nowadays, you’d be the one in the kitchen.”
Jacob picked up a pebble and threw it at his friend. “Cut it out, Seb. I’m bein’ serious.”
