snapped, equally disturbed by the prospect.
His answer stunned her into silence, but her impotent look went back and forth between Lochrie and him.
Creed ran his fingers through his damp hair, leaving four furrows behind. "Lochrie, is it possible for Miss Parsons to stay here with you and your wife for a few days? After what happened today, I can't in good conscience send her back to Fort Benton unescorted."
"Well, I—" Lochrie began.
"Unescorted?" Mariah repeated incredulously. "And where will you be?"
Creed's even gaze met hers. "Tomorrow I'll ride on to Virginia City to let Seth know what's happening and check on him. There's no telegraph service yet. He'll only worry if we don't show up." He turned to the station master. "Lochrie, I'll pay her keep for the time—"
"Oh, no, you don't," Mariah interrupted. "You're not leaving me here to go on ahead alone. If you know of a way to get to Virginia City, then I'm coming, too."
"Like hell you are!"
With her hands balled into fists at her waist, Mariah met his angry glare. "Try and stop me."
"Lady... you're crazy."
"Because I want to be with my fiancé? How does that make me crazy?"
Creed's snort of laughter punctuated the silence that had fallen. "You have no idea what you're talking about. You wouldn't last two minutes out there."
Tears trembled on the brinks of her eyes, but she wouldn't allow them to spill over. "Don't talk to me as if I'm some foolish child, Mr. Devereaux! I may be young, but I'm not completely ignorant. Nothing in this journey has been easy and I've no reason to expect it will get better."
"It's out of the question."
"Why? Because you say so?"
"Le bon Dieu me protege des femmes tetues!" he ranted, slapping his hat across his thigh.
"Speak English if you're going to swear at me!" Furious now, she stood nose to nose with him.
"I said, God protect me from stubborn women—like you. Don't you see it's impossible? Forget, for a moment, the hardships of the trail. Think of your reputation."
"My reputation? Do you think I give a fig about that when Seth is lying at death's door?"
"I didn't say that," he hedged.
"You didn't have to." Now tears spilled in earnest down her cheeks, but she no longer cared. Her whole body trembled like a newborn leaf in the wind. "I can see in your eyes how serious it is. He's very ill. Tell me that's not true."
He couldn't. God help him, he couldn't lie to her about something as important as Seth. "He's... ill. Very ill. Camp fever, pneumonia. They mean the same thing." His pained eyes met hers. "But if you think I'm risking your life to get you to him, lady, you're out of your mind."
"I'll take my own chances then," she declared impetuously. Turning to the others in the room, she asked, "Is there any man here willing to escort me to Virginia City? I can pay you well for your trouble."
Before any could answer, Creed grabbed her arm and whipped her around to face him. "What the hell do you think you're doing, you little fool?"
She clenched her jaw against the angry words she longed to hurl at the self-righteous bounty hunter. "Name-calling will get you absolutely nowhere, Mr. Devereaux. If you're not willing to help me, I'll find someone who is. There must be someone among you who is as anxious to reach the gold fields as I am."
Creed shot a killing look at every man in the room, and one by one, each wisely shrank back from her invitation. "There," he spat through clenched teeth. "Happy? Now, Miss Parsons, be a good girl and do as I tell you." He jammed his hat on and water flew in a spray off the brim as he headed for the door.
She followed on his heels. "Where are you going?"
"To get my horse in out of the rain!"
"This isn't finished, Mr. Devereaux—"
He turned abruptly, causing her to run smack into his chest. With a jerk, he pushed her away from him, but his fingers dug sharply into her upper arms. His eyes, the blue-green color of the hottest flame, bore into hers.
"Don't push me, Mariah. You don't
His answer stunned her into silence, but her impotent look went back and forth between Lochrie and him.
Creed ran his fingers through his damp hair, leaving four furrows behind. "Lochrie, is it possible for Miss Parsons to stay here with you and your wife for a few days? After what happened today, I can't in good conscience send her back to Fort Benton unescorted."
"Well, I—" Lochrie began.
"Unescorted?" Mariah repeated incredulously. "And where will you be?"
Creed's even gaze met hers. "Tomorrow I'll ride on to Virginia City to let Seth know what's happening and check on him. There's no telegraph service yet. He'll only worry if we don't show up." He turned to the station master. "Lochrie, I'll pay her keep for the time—"
"Oh, no, you don't," Mariah interrupted. "You're not leaving me here to go on ahead alone. If you know of a way to get to Virginia City, then I'm coming, too."
"Like hell you are!"
With her hands balled into fists at her waist, Mariah met his angry glare. "Try and stop me."
"Lady... you're crazy."
"Because I want to be with my fiancé? How does that make me crazy?"
Creed's snort of laughter punctuated the silence that had fallen. "You have no idea what you're talking about. You wouldn't last two minutes out there."
Tears trembled on the brinks of her eyes, but she wouldn't allow them to spill over. "Don't talk to me as if I'm some foolish child, Mr. Devereaux! I may be young, but I'm not completely ignorant. Nothing in this journey has been easy and I've no reason to expect it will get better."
"It's out of the question."
"Why? Because you say so?"
"Le bon Dieu me protege des femmes tetues!" he ranted, slapping his hat across his thigh.
"Speak English if you're going to swear at me!" Furious now, she stood nose to nose with him.
"I said, God protect me from stubborn women—like you. Don't you see it's impossible? Forget, for a moment, the hardships of the trail. Think of your reputation."
"My reputation? Do you think I give a fig about that when Seth is lying at death's door?"
"I didn't say that," he hedged.
"You didn't have to." Now tears spilled in earnest down her cheeks, but she no longer cared. Her whole body trembled like a newborn leaf in the wind. "I can see in your eyes how serious it is. He's very ill. Tell me that's not true."
He couldn't. God help him, he couldn't lie to her about something as important as Seth. "He's... ill. Very ill. Camp fever, pneumonia. They mean the same thing." His pained eyes met hers. "But if you think I'm risking your life to get you to him, lady, you're out of your mind."
"I'll take my own chances then," she declared impetuously. Turning to the others in the room, she asked, "Is there any man here willing to escort me to Virginia City? I can pay you well for your trouble."
Before any could answer, Creed grabbed her arm and whipped her around to face him. "What the hell do you think you're doing, you little fool?"
She clenched her jaw against the angry words she longed to hurl at the self-righteous bounty hunter. "Name-calling will get you absolutely nowhere, Mr. Devereaux. If you're not willing to help me, I'll find someone who is. There must be someone among you who is as anxious to reach the gold fields as I am."
Creed shot a killing look at every man in the room, and one by one, each wisely shrank back from her invitation. "There," he spat through clenched teeth. "Happy? Now, Miss Parsons, be a good girl and do as I tell you." He jammed his hat on and water flew in a spray off the brim as he headed for the door.
She followed on his heels. "Where are you going?"
"To get my horse in out of the rain!"
"This isn't finished, Mr. Devereaux—"
He turned abruptly, causing her to run smack into his chest. With a jerk, he pushed her away from him, but his fingers dug sharply into her upper arms. His eyes, the blue-green color of the hottest flame, bore into hers.
"Don't push me, Mariah. You don't
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