The sun looked to besetting in the next hour or so. “We should look for a place tocamp,” he called to her.
She noddedsharply.
She’d not spoken abovefour words since they’d begun their day, quietly going abouttending her part of the previous night’s campsite and makingherself ready for travel. He’d never met a woman like her, but thenhe’d admit his experience with the fairer sex were limited to aparticular type of female. Her grit amazed even him, and hisweren’t a life one would term kind. “Do you watch shows inSacramento?”
She turned in her saddle,surprise writ large on her features. “Excuse me?”
He felt a mite silly forblurting words out, but all the silence was beginning to unnervehim. “Shows. You know, stage shows. There’s got to be plenty ofthem, in a place like that.”
Her brows drew together.“Yes, there are.”
“And youwatch them?”
“When it’srequired.”
“You mean youdon’t?”
“I have moreproductive ways to spend my time.”
“Well maybethat’s so, darlin’, but sometimes a body wants some pleasure.”Images of pale skin and white-blonde hair on a soft bed flashed,feminine arms held out in welcome. He frowned. Now why would he bethinking on that? She weren’t likely to be open to the idea, and hehad doubts she would be any fun if she were.
She didn’trespond.
An insect buzzed aroundhis head. Damnation, now he’d offended her. She were a touchy one,was Miz McElroy, and he should know, ’specially after almost a weekin her constant company.
He cleared his throat.“What productive ways do you pass the time?”
She studied him, and heshifted under her gaze. “Why do you care?”
“Conversatingis better than silence.” The insect buzzed again. He swatted at itwith more force than was needed.
“You’ve notcomplained before.”
“I ain’tcomplaining now, but it’s a fine way to pass the time with someconversation.” The damn insect continued to buzz. He gritted histeeth. “Tell you what, why don’t you tell me whatyou’reliking to talk on? I’ll follow your lead.”
She studied him for time.“You don’t much like silence, do you?”
His neck heated. “Ain’tnothing wrong with that,” he said stiffly. “A body either likes totalk, or they don’t. I’ll be silent, if don’t is yourpreference.”
“I meant nooffence.”
“I ain’toffended.” He urged his horse to faster gait. He spent much timealone, and when he was in company he leaned toward conversation. Itweren’t nothing to make a body feel shame.
“You areoffended.”
“I ain’toffended!” His horse shied at the loudness of his words. Pattingher neck, he spoke soothing nonsense. What was it about this womanthat riled him? She were nothing but a job, and he didn’t care oneway or the other what she thought, or what she had tosay.
She pulled up beside him.“What did you wish to speak of?”
He exhaled. “Aconversation, darlin’. That’s all I was looking for. I didn’t thinkit would be so hard.”
She was silent a moment.“I am not used to conversation without purpose.”
“The purposeis to entertain.”
She mulled that oversome. “I don’t attend shows.”
He blinked. “Sorry,darlin’, you lost me.”
