White Nights by Susan Edwards Page A

seein’ as it’s been a month since ye was hitched.”
    The old man didn’t miss anything. Rook knew him too well. But before he could thank his friend, the crusty cook stalked away, muttering beneath his breath about the foolishness of youth.
    Wolf loaded up the supplies and paced. What was taking Jessie so long? Impatient to be off, he spun around, ready to go haul his wife out of her wagon. He came to an abrupt halt. His jaw dropped. For the second time since he’d known her, Jessica Jones had discarded her normal male garb—for a dress in pale blue calico. She’d also piled her dark curls on top of her head—revealing her long slender neck kissed to a golden brown by the sun—instead of leaving it to frame her face or blow wildly in the wind. Standing with the setting sun behind her, she took his breath away.
    Growling, he swept her into his arms, set her sideways in his saddle and leaped up behind her. He pulled her across his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “Vixen. I give you no guarantees that we’ll make it to the spot I found for us.”
    Jessie’s eyes glowed with mischief. She reached up and threaded her fingers through his long, golden-brown hair. “You’re the one who showed me there are definite advantages to wearing a dress,” she whispered, licking her lips teasingly while wiggling in his lap.
    Wolf groaned and spurred his horse into a full gallop.

Chapter Four
    Rook chewed on the end of his pipe and watched the newlyweds ride off. Grumbling, he scowled at Coralie who stared after her sister-in-law with a contented smile. “Quit ya grinnin’! They’s leavin’ all the work to us.”
    Coralie giggled and wrapped her arms around him. “Poor Rook, you have me. I won’t abandon you.”
    Heat crept up his whisker-covered cheeks. He waved his hands helplessly at his side. Just as quick as the impulsive hug began, it ended. Coralie twirled away from him, leaving him torn between relief and regret. His own daughter, had she lived, would have been about the same age.
    He shook his pipe at her, thrusting away old pain and bitterness. “If’n yer young man rode in here right now, you’d leave this old man without a second thought and don’t tell me different, lass. I’m surrounded by a bunch of swarmy-headed, lovestruck young folk.” His momentary regret at how Lady Fate had cheated him of a family faded for the moment when the young woman before him crossed her hands across her chest, her baby-blue eyes narrowed.
    “That isn’t true.” She lifted a hand, ready to denounce his accusation then, realizing Rook had baited her, Coralie grinned impishly. “I’d at least think twice before abandoning you.”
    Rook eyed the carcass at his feet, hiding his smile. “Sassy and impertinent, too,” he muttered, peeping up at her.
    Coralie slanted him an arched-brow look. “Oh, quit your griping. You don’t fool me, Rook. All bluster and a heart bigger than that rock everyone went to see.” She walked around the antelope, holding her skirts well away from it. “We shall have a fine meal tonight. Should I go tell the others? There’s more than enough for everyone to have some.”
    “Good idea, lass. I’ll dry what don’t git eaten.” He pulled a long hunting knife from a sheath around his waist and knelt beside the carcass, laughing beneath his breath when Coralie shuddered and practically ran from his cook area.
    Rook set to work. He stuck his pipe back between his lips, chewed the stem and shook his head in bemusement. He’d broken one of his steadfast rules on this trip. He’d allowed himself to care for the folk he was traveling with, particularly Coralie and Jessie. He’d come to regard the two young ladies as his adopted daughters. Each made him think of the family he’d lost so long ago.
    Hot coals of emotion burned in his gut and brought painful memories to his mind. Once more, he found himself standing on the edge of a familiar dark, bottomless pit. He teetered, fighting waves