Rocky Mountain Oasis by Lynnette Bonner Page A

handy someday’ you never know.” She took a sip of tea. “Miss Emily Donaldson was the most interesting thing on the trip, I guess.”
    The men looked at her questioningly.
    “She was an older woman who was rather—” Brooke searched for kind words for the woman who’d been the most like a mother to her on the trip— “accustomed to having her way.”
    The men smiled knowingly.
    “The wagon master often had to help her out of situations she got into because she never listened to what he said.” She stared at the wall. “I miss her.”
    Sky entered the cabin through the outer door, which had been left standing ajar to allow the cool morning air in.
    “So, what was the funniest thing that happened to her?” asked Percival. Brooke, her back to Sky, chuckled softly, and Sky stilled, knowing he was seeing her relaxed for the first time. “Miss Donaldson drove our wagon. There was supposed to be a man to drive it, but he didn’t show up at the last minute, and she said she would do it. We had come to some river—the Platte, I think. Anyway, she didn’t think that the place where we were crossing was the best place to cross. She thought another place just downriver would be smoother. But Harry—he was the wagon master—said it wasn’t a good place to ford. Emily couldn’t pass it up, though. She always thought she knew best. I made her let me down, and I rode the ferry across. But she pulled out of line when Harry wasn’t looking and started across the river. She wasn’t five feet out when our horses’ feet went out from under them, and the wagon started to float downriver.”
    Brooke chuckled again. “I shouldn’t laugh. She could have really been hurt, and I was so scared for her at the time, but I’ll never be able to think of Emily Donaldson without seeing her dancing on the seat of our floating wagon, her skirt up around her waist, her bloomers showing for all the world to see. She was screaming, ‘Harry! You were right! Save me! Harry! You were right! Save me!’” Brooke mimicked her screams in falsetto.
    Laughter filled the room.
    At that instant Brooke saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she found Sky’s gaze fixed on her. His eyes darted to Percival for a moment, slight suspicion there, but quickly came back to hers. He didn’t laugh but merriment danced in the depth of his eyes, a light smile playing on his mouth. Brooke quickly pulled her eyes from his. Is he going to think I was flirting? Memory of Hank and a similar situation assailed her, and her heart beat faster.
    “Jack,” Sky said to the ferryman when the chuckles had died down, “thanks for everything. We should be heading home now.” The men shook hands, then he turned to Brooke. “Ready?”
    “Yes. Just let me get my bag.”
    She started for the bedroom, but Sky preceded her. Her small bag rested on the bed. He picked it up and asked, “Anything else?”
    “No.” She shook her head.
    They went back into the main room, and Brooke bade everyone farewell. Percival lingered in a slow bow over her hand.
    Sky shuffled his feet and took her elbow but offered, “Come visit us sometime,” with a tip of his hat toward Percival.
    Percival stepped back and smiled, his eyes never leaving her face. “I think I just might.”
    Sky glanced down, a momentary frown creasing his forehead. But just as quickly as it appeared it was gone, and he pressed a hand to her back, guiding her to the door.
    The sunlight shone golden bright, glinting off the surface of the rushing river as they stepped outside. Brooke noted with some unease that only one horse stood in sight and Sky was tying her bag to the pommel of the saddle.
    Sky swung up and settled easily just behind the saddle. “Do you ride?” he asked, looking down at her.
    She swallowed and nodded.
    And before she knew what was happening Jack Greer had her by the waist and had handed her up to Sky. She hooked one leg around the saddle horn naturally, although she