White Wolf by Susan Edwards Page A

wanted to shame Wolf into letting her go with them. Jessie bit her lower lip. As usual, her temper had landed her in a heap of trouble.
    She tried once more to correct Wolf. “You don’t under—” From behind her, bony fingers squeezed her shoulder, silencing her. Startled, she turned her head. Her jaw dropped as she stared into a pair of familiar twinkling blue eyes. Surprised to see the old man she’d met earlier, she whispered, “What are you doing here?”
    Rook indicated the two arguing men with a slight nod of his white head. “Come away, lass.” His raspy voice was low, for her ears only. His gnarled fingers grasped her arm as he pulled her back into the deep shadows.
    Jessie glanced over at Wolf and James. They seemed oblivious to her disappearance. She turned to her new friend. “But Rook, he thinks—”
    “Quiet, lass,” Rook rasped. “Listen ta me. God gave ya two ears ’n’ one mouth so’s ya could listen more than ya talk.”
    Jessie pondered that bit of advice and decided she didn’t have anything to lose at this point. Raised voices brought her attention back to her brother and Wolf.
    “Now wait one gall-durn minute, Wolf,” James spluttered. “No one is abandoning anyone. I arranged for Jessie to come to Oregon later with another family because Jessie’s a—”
    Wolf’s hand rose upward, then slashed downward. His voice roared and echoed in the rafters. “A scamp. An un-mannered cub, that’s what he is. But where I come from, we don’t abandon our children no matter how badly they behave. You should’ve told me you had a younger brother. We could have worked something out. I hire honest, hardworking men. You came highly recommended, but I don’t cotton to any man running out on his responsibilities.”
    “I don’t believe this.” Jessie groaned softly as she watched her brother gesture angrily.
    “Someone needs to kick some sense into both of them.”
    Rook grinned and pulled a pipe from his shirt pocket. “Kickin’ never gets you nowhere, ’less’n you’s a mule. Jest relax. I gots me a feelin’ things is gonna work out jest fine.”
    Jessie released her pent-up breath in one long disgusted sigh. Let them fight it out. No matter the outcome, she was going to Oregon and that was that.
    As the seconds ticked by, Jessie’s gaze kept returning to the imposing figure of the wagon master. Up until now, she’d been too distracted to pay much mind to what he looked like, but now the raw masculinity vibrating from him slammed into her, taking her breath away as she experienced her first taste of instant attraction.
    He wore an unfastened buckskin vest, buckskin breeches fringed down each side, and moccasins. Except for his coloring, he looked Indian. She continued to study him. The faint glow from a lantern hanging on a nail revealed tantalizing glimpses of glittering golden curls coating the bronzed expanse of his chest beneath his vest. A strange fluttering in the region of her stomach caught her by surprise. Surrounded by grown men who oftentimes went shirtless, walked around in their long johns and spoke frankly within her hearing, Jessie had figured she was immune to all those symptoms of desire that the other girls giggled over. Yet staring at Wolf, she discovered she was very much affected.
    His features were a study of shadows and smooth planes. Finely etched cheekbones placed high and prominent contrasted with sharp, angular jaws and a straight but gently sloping nose. Her eyes latched on to his mouth. Moments ago it had been soft and full when he’d looked down at her. To her surprise, she wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him, to have those blue eyes look at her with love and tenderness.
    Jessie made a face. Why was she thinking of such things with a man she’d never met before when she had her sights set on Elliot? Some inner voice pointed out that Elliot’s handsome features had never taken her breath away or set her heart racing as the man arguing