One
Western Canada, 1883
“Whoa! Whoa!”
The stagecoach rocked and rattled at the driver’s frantic call.
Now what? Addie kept the words inside her mouth. She reached out her arm to steady Mother Stone. They’d been delayed with an injured horse, and now this rain was slowing them down. Addie wanted to get to their destination and bury herself in the work she did helping the Stones. How else could she find purpose and satisfaction?
The older woman, who’d been mother to Addie these past eight years, blinked awake. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t?—”
The door jerked open, cutting off her reply. The coach tipped as a man stepped aboard. Water dripped from his soaked clothing, ran off his hat brim, and puddled on the floor.
Addie shifted her feet aside and turned her knees to avoid getting wet.
“Sorry, folks, but I need a ride.” Rain blew in the open door, dampening the air and Addie’s clothes.
“Close the door.” The wizened man across the narrow aisle who continually wheezed, coughed, and mopped his brow coughed. “We’ll all catch the death of a cold.” His words choked off as he gasped for breath.
Although she’d steeled herself to hide her thoughts and kept her face expressionless, Addie wondered if it wasn’t too late for the elderly man, who had introduced himself as Zeke Zacharius, to worry about the effects of the damp weather on his health.
The newcomer pulled the door closed. Cold air from the curtained windows continued to chill them.
The other passenger—a portly man who seemed full of his own importance—huffed. “Where do you expect to sit?” Mr. Bertrand spread his bulk across a large portion of the seat.
The newcomer removed his hat. He eyed the bench Addie and Mother Stone shared. Addie resisted the urge to spread herself wider as Mr. Bertrand had done. She lifted her gaze to the man and bit back a gasp.
His eyes were the most startling color. Silvery greenish blue. Like sunshine reflecting on dancing water. So unusual a color that she stared. Her cheeks warmed at her unblinking interest, and she tore her gaze away. He was a young man with hair as black as coal and the garb of a cowboy. Or did she mean rancher? Because he looked better off than most of the cowboys she’d encountered, his coat without tears, his boots in good condition, and—well, he simply looked well clothed.
Mother Stone slid to Addie’s side. “We’ll make room.”
“Thank you, ma’am, but I am wet enough to soak a badger. I’ll sit on the floor.” He lowered himself at Addie’sfeet. She edged closer to Mother Stone to avoid contact with the man.
“Who be you? And what brings you out in this downpour?” Mr. Bertrand’s tone suggested the man must be crazy.
“Howdy, everyone. Name’s Nash Burns.”
One by one, the travelers gave their names.
He favored them all with a slight tip of his head and a curving of his mouth. And a flash of silver-tinted eyes. “I’m on my way back to my ranch. My horse came up lame.” His shoulders rose and fell. “The stagecoach will get me closer to home.” An airy snort passed his lips. “Faster than walking.” He returned his hat to his head and leaned back.
A weary silence filled the coach. Well, apart from the rattle of something in the boot, the creak of the wheels, and the clopping of six horses’ hooves in mud.
Would it ever stop raining? Addie sat back and tried to relax, which was impossible given the tightness of the quarters and weariness of her bones.
The coach jolted and stopped. It tipped as the driver got down.
All eyes followed the sound of the unseen man as he muttered to himself, then pulled open the door, forcing Nash to edge forward. “Folks, this here is as far as we go.”
Before he could say more, Mr. Bertrand growled, “I paid to get to Golden Valley.”
“Road’s washed out. Coach is stuck in mud to my ankles. But if ya wanna walk the rest of the way, go ahead. Be warned, water’s pouring off the mountainside. Guessing you’re prepared to swim part of the way.” The driver, known only as Hawk, turned to the others.
Mr. Bertrand harrumphed and muttered under his breath.
“You’ll all be more comfortable in the way station. Grab what ya can carry and follow me as soon as I get the horses unhitched.”
