Badland Bride by Lauri Robinson Page B

didn't I?"
    A warm flush filled her face. She dropped her chin, hoping the floppy brim of his hat would hide her red cheeks from his view. Why did his statement make happiness race across her chest?
    "How?” Buffalo Killer asked. “I had ghost dance, too."
    "I must just be lucky,” Skeeter said.
    "You share?"
    "No, I will not share her. You best remember that, and tell the others as well."
    Holding her breath, she snuck a peek from beneath the hat in time to see Buffalo Killer raise his eyebrows as he thoroughly assessed her body with his eyes. A tight, constricting knot formed in her stomach, making her clutch Skeeter's arm harder.
    [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Four
    Lila lifted an extremely sore butt out of the saddle by pressing the balls of her feet against the stirrups. The insides of her legs felt raw. Thank goodness Skeeter had insisted she put on his extra pair of pants, otherwise her thighs probably wouldn't have any skin left. She didn't want to complain, but they'd been traveling for almost two days. “How much farther is it to your mother's house?"
    He pulled his horse to a halt. Hers automatically stopped. Skeeter looked apologetic as he said, “Do you want to get down for a few minutes?"
    "Could we? Just a few minutes out of this saddle would be heaven.” The words had no sooner left her mouth when a wave of guilt spread across her chest. He didn't even have a saddle on his horse. Since there was only one he'd insisted she use it. For two days he'd been sitting on nothing more than a folded blanket.
    His hands wrapped around her waist. Their solid strength was as warm and comforting as his presence. Lila laid her hands on his shoulders, and pulled her feet from the stirrups as he lifted her to the ground. Men like Skeeter Quinter didn't exist in two-thousand-eight, which was an extremely sad fact. A sigh left her chest when her feet touched the ground. His hands gave her sides a gentle squeeze before slipping away.
    The sun had lowered in the western sky, and the constant wind held a touch of cooler, evening air. Lila lifted damp curls off her neck, hoping the breeze would not only chase away the heat from the blazing sun, but also the amorous warmth being near him sent across every inch of her body.
    Skeeter handed her the canteen. “It's not too much farther. We'll be there before night fall."
    The water was hot, but it quenched her thirst, and after taking a second swallow she handed the container back to him. “I'm sorry for being such a ninny. I'm sure women of your time are much more resilient than I.” She shrugged out of the shirt he'd given her to protect her skin from the sun, tucked it into the saddle bag.
    When she was little her father had been obsessed with the popular T.V. show of the nineties, Quantum Leap , so accepting she was a time traveler was easy. Even living in the age old century wasn't difficult, but the possibility she may never see her parents, friends, and cat, again, caused a pain in her chest. That is whenever her eyes quit ogling her companion and gave her mind a chance to think of something besides him.
    He took a long drink, after wiping a few drops off his chin, said, “There's nothing to be sorry about. You're doing a great job. I don't know many people who'd be willing to travel two days across the prairie in the July heat, and not complain about it.” One of his fingers flipped a drooping ringlet away from her eyes. “You've been a good partner, haven't complained at all."
    "Yes, I have. I've been whining the entire trip.” Her college friends called her the drama queen. Said she turned molehills into mountains faster than a politician.
    "Then someone else must be hearing it, because I haven't,” Skeeter said as he turned to tie the canteen back onto the saddle horn.
    "You are much too nice to me, Skeeter Quinter."
    He gave her a saucy, sexy wink that made her knees go weak. Instantly, his hand reached over to settle her wobbling. “Here, let's sit down