Fletcherâs horse and buggy at Fannyâs gate.
For a second, she considered running to him. He would defend herâshe knew thatâbut in the end, she decided against seeking his help. Griffin had enough trouble as it was, and Fawn had other, deeper reasons for not wanting to call attention to the situation.
McKay had brought an extra horse, and Fawn swung deftly up onto its broad back, clinging to the reins with white-knuckled hands. McKayâs saddle creaked as he turned to grin at her.
Fawn grinned back. Bastard, she thought.
They rode swiftly, avoiding the main road and galloping along the path leading through the dense woods to the east of Tent Town. After about fifteen minutes, the two riders emerged from a stand of silvery-leaved cottonwood trees and cut across the narrow dirt road.
Fawn allowed herself one glance back, over her shoulder, at the large, gray stone house where Griffin Fletcher lived. If she reined in the mare she was riding sharply enough and rode hard, she might be able to reach Griffinâs front door, the sanctuary within his house, before McKay caught up with her.
She swallowed hard. What about tomorrow and the day after that? She couldnât hide from Jonas forever, and Griffin, the magnificent fool, wouldnât even try.
The rain was easing up; Fawn lamented that. Just then, she wished that the skies would open and drown Jonas Wilkes in a torrential downpour.
He can probably swim, she thought, bitterly.
McKay rode up a steep, rocky sidehill, and Fawn followed. When they reached the crest, they both paused, their mounts dancing impatiently, to survey Jonasâs kingdom.
McKay took in the palatial brick house and surrounding land with an obvious, vicarious sort of pride, while Fawn viewed it with dread.
I shouldnât have told Field Hollister that I saw Jonas carrying off the Fair Maiden, she reflected wryly. Damn it! Ten to one, Field told Griffin and Griffin went busting in there to save Beckyâs kid from shame and degradation!
Fawn stiffened in the saddle, stood up in the stirrups to stretch her legs. Before this dayâs out, Iâm going to wish Iâd never been born.
McKay tossed a smug look over his shoulder; it was almost as though heâd read Fawnâs thoughts and found them profoundly amusing. âCome on, Injun. The boss has plans for you.â
âDid I ever tell you what my people do with snakes like you, McKay?â Fawn shot back.
McKay paled. âShut up.â
Fawn raised her voice as the horses started down the other side of the hill. âFirst, we let the old ladies peel your hide offââ
McKay spurred his mangy stallion to a run, and Fawnâs laughter rang to the mountain and back again.
⢠ ⢠ â¢
In the privacy of her tent, Rachel removed her wet clothes and wrapped herself in a blanket. Tears gathered behind her eyes, burning, but she would not let them fall.
She lay down on her cot, a torrent of confusion storming inside her. Because the anger kept her warm, she tried to stir it into full flame by remembering the rude things Dr. Fletcher had said and implied.
But the anger kept ebbing away. Instead, she found herself wondering what it would be like to surrender herself to him.
Where the rites of men and women were concerned, she had a firm grasp of the basics, though she had never experiencedthem. Her father had warned her repeatedly that if she laid down with a man, she would be sullied.
Rachel had known a girl in Oregon who had been sullied by a storekeeperâs son. Wilma had ended up with a very big stomach, good food to eat, and a sturdy roof over her head.
Rachel considered getting herself sullied, then set the thought wearily aside.
It had been such a confusing, worrisome day. First, there had been that unfortunate scene with Mr. Wilkes in the dining tent and then that encounter with him at the cottage. On top of that, sheâd found out that her mother lived
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