Free Sweet Boundless by Kristen Heitzmann Page A

Carina.
    She looked over the figures, working them in her head, Quillan guessed, then turned to him. “I think this will do.”
    The man looked from Carina to him with obvious dismay. “You are witha her?”
    Quillan nodded and realized the man must have expected to make up most of what he’d lost to Carina on him. He probably remembered him from the last trip. Quillan looked at the total and whistled. It was high, but not as high as he’d expected for the heap of goods on the floor. Grudgingly he admitted, silently, that he’d been skinned the last time.
    He reached into his billfold and counted out the money into the man’s hand. Sixty-seven dollars was a lot of money. But it looked as though he wouldn’t be making this trip again anytime soon. Carina could feed the whole city with what she had on the floor. It would fill his wagon. It would last her a long while. He thanked the man.
    With a pained sigh, the storekeeper threw up his hands. “Eh, what can I do? I’m weak for a bella faccia . A pretty face.”
    Carina smiled and touched his arm, murmuring something.
    The man smiled back, waving his finger. “Oofa, bella signora.”
    Quillan half expected him to kiss her hand, he looked so grateful for the chance to be skinned alive by her.
    “Addio.” She slid her fingers from his arm.
    When Carina turned her smile on Quillan, his belly clutched up, and he definitely sympathized with the poor storekeeper.
    “Will you load this while I look around?”
    “Look around?”
    She raised her brows innocently. “You think I’d come here without seeing anything else?”
    Quillan frowned. “Didn’t you see Fairplay when you came up to Crystal?”
    “I spent the night, yes. But I never shopped.” She walked out the door, and Quillan watched her disappear down the street.
    She had passed one night in Fairplay on her trip to Crystal and, heading from it the next day, hurried on to Crystal, her dream city, where she would make her home and her way. Fairplay had seemed a dirty, ill-bred town until she saw Crystal. Then she had realized what a fool she was.
    Carina walked down the street, looking in the windows of any place that was not a saloon or gambling hall. She was aware of the looks sent her way and acknowledged the tipped hats with a smile. She stopped outside a window that held lacy gloves and fans and parasols, colored ribbons and pearl buttons, and even a diamond stickpin.
    With her fingers pressed to the glass, she looked until she’d seen it all. One day she would come back to this store and buy the parasol. One day when she had earned enough. The wind whipped her hair. It had a bite to it. And it was bringing clouds.
    She sighed and left the window behind. She met Quillan at the wagon, still loading her goods. “I need eggs. Il signore Lanza didn’t have any.” She spoke over the wind, holding the fur collar tight to her throat.
    “That’ll be tough.”
    “Why?”
    “They’re hard to transport, not always available. If he didn’t have them, it’s likely no one else does.”
    “But I have to have them. The pasta requires it.”
    Quillan paused. “I just brought you some.”
    “It won’t be enough.”
    Quillan leaned on the wagon. “How much is enough?”
    “Dozens.” She waved her arm.
    His eyes narrowed; then he shook his head. “I can’t do anything about that today, Carina. We have to start up. I don’t like the feel of this wind.” He turned back to the wagon. “Besides you’ve already cost me enough.”
    She bit back the retort. Once she had business, she would pay for everything she needed herself. Until then she would have to borrow.
    They started up the pass. This time Carina kept the shawl tied over her mouth against the wind and didn’t read aloud. She could have read silently, but that seemed unkind to Quillan. She kept her chilled hands deep in the pockets of her coat and was grateful for its warmth. Her canvas jacket would not have been enough.
    Quillan reached down and