from his carriage so he can return to Kansas City; then you may gossip to your heart's content," Jason remarked impatiently, clearly having no interest in hearing any explanation Gabrielle might care to give for the comment he'd overheard. "I'll take Sunny off your hands for the night since you'll be busy packing your wagon, but beginning tomorrow morning he will be your responsibility again."
Gabrielle blushed deeply, hurt that he thought so little of her and knowing there was no way for her to explain anything to the man when he took so arrogant a tone. 'Thank you, but I'll be happy to see to his care tonight if you'd rather I did."
"I said I'd do it and I will!" Jason responded crossly. "Now I really must dismiss the carriages, and unless you plan to wear that black suit all the way to Oregon City I suggest you make certain your belongings have been removed!"
Startled by the anger in his tone, Gabrielle moved back. "Yes, sir!"
With a fierce scowl, Jason turned to move on but he'd not taken ten paces before Iris overtook him. Taking his right arm and pressing her slender figure so close to his side he could scarcely walk, she smiled sweetly as she repeated the same generous offer she'd made to Clayton, to trade her place and move to another wagon should any young woman be dissatisfied with her assignment.
Gabrielle bit her lip to keep from screaming a most uncomplimentary word, but it was Erica who supplied it in a
low whisper.
"Bitch! Let's hope she's able to move before noon tomorrow."
'^Sundown tonight would suit me better!" Gabrielle was deeply hurt that Jason had misinterpreted her remark so badly, but seeing the smile he gave Iris brought a sick feeling to her stomach and she knew it was not due to the effects of the carriage ride. He'd been so abrupt with her, curt to the point of being rude, and there he was flashing that disarming grin at Iris as though he liked her immensely. Why couldn't he see through the transparent act this self-centered young woman was performing solely for his benefit? More importantly, why should she care what Jason thought of Iris? There was no reason why his opinion should matter to her, none at all. When she noticed Erica watching her closely Gabrielle attempted to make her think she'd been observing Iris, not her handsome companion. ''What do you suppose she's after?"
"Whatever favors he can arrange for her, I suppose. Maybe she's just practicing her technique since the opportunities to do so might be few on the trip. Let's just see to our luggage before Mr. Royal comes back to complain to us again. He certainly seems to take his responsibilities seriously, and I for one don't want to hear him yell at us again."
"Yes, I'm coming."
Gabrielle could carry her valise now that she'd separated tlie books, but it was not an easy task or one she thought she could manage five or six times a day as Jason had predicted she might have to do. She'd tied the books together in a neat stack with string she'd acquired from the hotel clerk, and now attempting to balance the two loads, she carried her things the short distance to the back of the wagon where the others were trying to decide how best to organize their possessions.
The wagon had already been loaded with provisions: bacon, flour, salt, pepper, coffee, potatoes, carrots, and apples. A heap of bedding and an assortment of pots, pans, tin plates, and other utensils filled most of the remaining inside space, while
barrels of drinking water had been lashed to the sides. The sturdy Conestoga wagons were named for the town in Pennsylvania where they were manufactured. All were brand new, their white canvas tops sparkling in the sun, because no wagon ever survived the Oregon Trail in good enough condition to make a return trip.
Barbara sat down upon her suitcase and waited for someone to make a suggestion. Neither Marlene nor Margaret had any ideas, and Johanna began to thumb through her Bible searching for some relevant verse to cover
Gabrielle blushed deeply, hurt that he thought so little of her and knowing there was no way for her to explain anything to the man when he took so arrogant a tone. 'Thank you, but I'll be happy to see to his care tonight if you'd rather I did."
"I said I'd do it and I will!" Jason responded crossly. "Now I really must dismiss the carriages, and unless you plan to wear that black suit all the way to Oregon City I suggest you make certain your belongings have been removed!"
Startled by the anger in his tone, Gabrielle moved back. "Yes, sir!"
With a fierce scowl, Jason turned to move on but he'd not taken ten paces before Iris overtook him. Taking his right arm and pressing her slender figure so close to his side he could scarcely walk, she smiled sweetly as she repeated the same generous offer she'd made to Clayton, to trade her place and move to another wagon should any young woman be dissatisfied with her assignment.
Gabrielle bit her lip to keep from screaming a most uncomplimentary word, but it was Erica who supplied it in a
low whisper.
"Bitch! Let's hope she's able to move before noon tomorrow."
'^Sundown tonight would suit me better!" Gabrielle was deeply hurt that Jason had misinterpreted her remark so badly, but seeing the smile he gave Iris brought a sick feeling to her stomach and she knew it was not due to the effects of the carriage ride. He'd been so abrupt with her, curt to the point of being rude, and there he was flashing that disarming grin at Iris as though he liked her immensely. Why couldn't he see through the transparent act this self-centered young woman was performing solely for his benefit? More importantly, why should she care what Jason thought of Iris? There was no reason why his opinion should matter to her, none at all. When she noticed Erica watching her closely Gabrielle attempted to make her think she'd been observing Iris, not her handsome companion. ''What do you suppose she's after?"
"Whatever favors he can arrange for her, I suppose. Maybe she's just practicing her technique since the opportunities to do so might be few on the trip. Let's just see to our luggage before Mr. Royal comes back to complain to us again. He certainly seems to take his responsibilities seriously, and I for one don't want to hear him yell at us again."
"Yes, I'm coming."
Gabrielle could carry her valise now that she'd separated tlie books, but it was not an easy task or one she thought she could manage five or six times a day as Jason had predicted she might have to do. She'd tied the books together in a neat stack with string she'd acquired from the hotel clerk, and now attempting to balance the two loads, she carried her things the short distance to the back of the wagon where the others were trying to decide how best to organize their possessions.
The wagon had already been loaded with provisions: bacon, flour, salt, pepper, coffee, potatoes, carrots, and apples. A heap of bedding and an assortment of pots, pans, tin plates, and other utensils filled most of the remaining inside space, while
barrels of drinking water had been lashed to the sides. The sturdy Conestoga wagons were named for the town in Pennsylvania where they were manufactured. All were brand new, their white canvas tops sparkling in the sun, because no wagon ever survived the Oregon Trail in good enough condition to make a return trip.
Barbara sat down upon her suitcase and waited for someone to make a suggestion. Neither Marlene nor Margaret had any ideas, and Johanna began to thumb through her Bible searching for some relevant verse to cover
Similar Books
