Both were careful not to look at Phillip, butit was clear they wanted to change the subject when Buck said,“What kind of expression was that, Shane?”
“Hey! What the hell?” Shea raised a hand toher head. “I was trying to look delicate and frail.”
Buck hooted and cackled. “Delicate? Youlooked like you were about to take a dump.”
“I did not.”
Eamon roared in laughter. “Yes. Yes, you did.I thought I was going to fall off my horse trying not tolaugh.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”Shea muttered, spurring her horse to move faster. “That was mydelicate look.”
The two just roared louder as Shea canteredaway. Rounding the bend, Shea shook her head. Something she hadlearned over the years, men could be immature regardless ofage.
Chapter Fourteen
“Whoa, halt.”
“Again?” Phillip muttered, pulling on thereins.
Shea stood in her stirrups, craning her headto see around the supply wagon in front of them. It was their turnto pull rear guard while Eamon and Buck scouted in front.
“I’ll ride up and see what’s taking so long,”she told him.
He nodded, frowning sourly. Her mood echoedhis, though she was careful to keep her face neutral as she rodedown the line looking for the reason for this most recent delay. Ithad been one obstacle after another for the past several days, andthe men were getting impatient. Everyone wanted to reach the safetyof camp, and the delays were making them careless.
“What’s the hold up?” she barked as she rodeup to several men gathered at the back of one of the wagons.
“Wheel’s stuck,” a man with a crooked nosesaid crossly, gesturing at the wheel in question.
Cale rode up, his expression darkening as hecaught sight of her. “Why are we stopped?”
The glare he shot her said he blamed her forthis delay. She met him with a stony look of her own.
“Wheel’s stuck,” the man said again.
“Well, how long will that take?”
“No idea. It takes as long as it takes.”
“Hurry it up,” Cale said crossly.
“It’ll take as long as it takes,” the manenunciated clearly. “If you want it to go faster, get down here andhelp us dig it out.”
“Just do your job.” Cale whirled his horseand cantered back to the front.
Shea and the man watched him go with similarlooks of disgust.
“I’m impressed,” she told him.
“I wasn’t always a softie.” He held up onemangled hand curled into a twisted claw.
Shea winced, the question of what happenedforming in her mind but remaining unspoken.
“Got smashed when a horse trampled it,” hesaid with a self-deprecating grimace. “After that, I wasn’t fit toserve on the lines or in the scouts so they sent me to collecttithes with all the other sluggards.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Could be dead or cast out forbeing dead weight.”
