Cherished by Jill Gregory

obvious admiration for her—for
surely western men preferred women of a hardier constitution. But
Victoria’s satisfaction was short-lived. John Breen appeared only
more intently interested in Juliana, and both her parents instantly
shot her such a furious glance that she quailed inwardly and
clamped her mouth shut.
    It was Edward who cleared his throat and
said: “You see, there was a bit of trouble in town, John, and
Juliana became upset. A man was shot and she happened to run into
the fellow who did it—”
    “What? Who was it? Did he touch you? Hurt you
in any way?” Breen questioned the girl swiftly, a hard look
entering his eyes.
    “No, no, it wasn’t anything like that.”
Juliana could have happily strangled Victoria at that moment. “He
was a bounty hunter,” she started to explain, “and it wasn’t really
his fault at all—” but Uncle Edward cut her off.
    “Cole Rawdon was the fellow’s name. He gave
the poor girl a nasty shock. You certainly can’t blame her for
fainting. Any girl of sensibility would have done the same.”
    “Rawdon.” Breen frowned as he turned the name
over in his mind. “I’ve heard of the man, but never met him. What
happened?”
    “Nothing, really.” Juliana insisted, with a
shake of her head. She was startled by the overly solicitous manner
in which John Breen was behaving toward her, almost as if he was
responsible for her safety and welfare. She was uncomfortable with
the fuss being made over the entire subject. “I am feeling
perfectly fine now—only a little tired—and I’d rather not discuss
it,” she said with what she hoped was a cool smile and her most
dismissive tone.
    But Aunt Katharine was not to be silenced
until she had explained the matter to her own satisfaction.
“Juliana was naturally distressed,” she told Breen, stroking her
niece’s arm in a fond way. “She is such a sweet, sensitive girl,
and cannot abide violence of any sort, and here she stumbles upon a
brutal killing the moment she arrives in town—why, she actually saw
the dead man ...”
    “Damned unlucky.” John Breen shook his head.
The look he gave Juliana was regretful. “I’m sorry your visit got
off to such a rough start. You’ve been gently raised—it’s only
natural such an event would shock you. Eventually, if you spend
some time in these parts, you’ll toughen up. But not too much, I
hope.” He grinned down at her. “You see, I like softness in a
woman.”
    Juliana stiffened. How could her uncle stand
by and let such a forward remark pass unanswered? But Uncle Edward
was staring at his thumbs, and Aunt Katharine’s gaze was fixed
steadfastly upon the pattern in the Turkish carpet.
    It was ludicrous. If any of the beaux who
came to call in St. Louis had ever treated her to such intimate
glances and bold words upon such a short acquaintance, she would
have been forbidden any contact with them. John Breen was behaving
as if ... as if he were her husband!
    She remembered what Aunt Katharine had said
about not insulting their host, and she wondered with a little stab
of anger just how far her aunt and uncle would go to avoid giving
offense. She swallowed back her anger, and the setdown that sprang
so readily to her lips. It would not do to put him in his place,
she realized reluctantly. She had, after all, given her word to try
to be charming to the man. But not too charming, she told herself.
In fact, I’d do well to steer clear of John Breen before he seeks
favors I am not inclined to grant. It wouldn’t surprise me, she
thought with what she imagined to be great sophistication, if at
some point during our visit he even tried to steal a kiss!
    “Might we have a cup of tea, Mr. Breen?” was
all she said to change the subject, speaking in the chilly, even
tone she reserved for suitors not in her favor. “I am certain my
aunt and Victoria are as in need of refreshment as I am.”
    “Of course.” Breen eyed her in amusement,
sensing that her hackles were up,