Hawk was dressed in dark buff buckskin, his jacket and boots fringed. His head was bare, his black hair falling loosely to his shoulders.
“Lady Douglas,” he told her, his impatience held in check with mock gallantry, “your mule awaits.”
“Mule?” she gasped.
“Thirty minutes. I left you a mug of coffee by the water ewer. Get going.”
“If you’re serious about a mule, it had best keep waiting!” she warned.
“Thirty minutes. The mule may be patient. I am not.”
She rose and washed quickly, then dressed in what she hoped would be an appropriate outfit for a ride into wild country—cotton shift, petticoat, and calico dress—and good riding boots. The sun could be very bright by day, but the nights could be cold, so she brought her hooded wool cloak. She created a blanket roll with a second dress and underclothing and then hurried down the stairs with a few minutes to spare.
Meggie was at the front door, shaking her head. “Riding off at the crack of the dawn, and not a decent breakfast into a one of you!” she said unhappily.
Hawk walked in from the porch, an empty mug in his hands. Meggie glanced his way, shaking her head. “Ye’ve not even fed the lass, Lord Douglas!”
He arched a brow, looking from Meggie to Skylar. “I’m not setting out to starve my wife, Meggie. We’ve just got a busy morning ahead of us. We’re already leaving hours later than Ihad intended. Besides, we’ve had your fine coffee, Meg, and I packed your biscuits in our bags.” He handed her his empty mug and touched her cheek affectionately. “I do trust you, of course, to hold down the fort in my absence. We’ll be gone one to two weeks, I believe.” He winked, looking at Skylar once again. “Skylar is sending for her sister today, Meggie. I can’t imagine that a lone woman might come all this way west before we return, but then she is Skylar’s sister, so I assume anything is possible, don’t you think, my love?” he queried Skylar.
She ignored him. “My sister’s name is Sabrina Connor,” she told Meggie. “And I imagine that she can make it out here in a week, assuming she can manage connecting train schedules and a decent stagecoach ride north from the railhead.”
“It took you two weeks,” Hawk commented quietly, for her hearing alone.
“I had a few things to attend to along the way.”
“Really? What things?”
“Personal affairs,” she told him.
“Umm,” he murmured, his dissatisfaction with her reply obvious. “Eventually, Skylar, you will answer my questions.”
“Eventually, I may.”
“At the moment,” he said irritably, “it seems like it’s taking me two weeks to leave my own damned house.”
Meggie, unaware of the tension between them, shook her head with concern. “The stagecoach coming north from the railroad usually stops overnight on the road and then takes the passengers into Gold Town,” she reminded Hawk worriedly.
“She’ll find Henry then. I’ll instruct him to make arrangements for her to stay in town at the Miner’s Well until he can arrange for someone to bring her out here,” Hawk said.
Meggie nodded. “Make sure Henry knows to watch out for a young lady.”
“We will. Well, then, we’ll be on our way.” He smiled at Meggie and led Skylar out the front door. Sloan, dressed in buckskin as well, was mounted on a large bay. Willow was at his side. Ten head of cattle grazed there in front of the elegant Mayfair, waiting to be driven forth with them.
Something cold touched Skylar’s hand. She looked down to see that Wolf had come over to her. She scratched his head.
“The roan gelding, named Nutmeg, is your choice, right?” Hawk said from behind her. “It is the mount you chose to ride into Gold Town behind my back?”
“It wasn’t behind your back,” Skylar said.
“It wasn’t with my permission.”
“I’m rather old to ask permission.”
“That’s debatable, and beside the point out here.”
“The roan gelding is fine.”
“Good morning, Lady Douglas!” Sloan called to her. Willow nodded to her. “I understand you’re taking a side trip into town this morning.”
