Free The Promised Land (Destiny's Dreamers Book 2) by Kathleen Karr Page A

music stopped. The firm hands began to lead her away, but were interrupted.
    “I’ll thank you to unhand my wife, sir!’’
    The older man~he must have been almost forty, for Maggie could now see specks of gray decorating his sideburns~turned on Johnny. They were the same height, but the gambler’s breadth was greater. He smiled superiorly.
    “Perhaps you’d best learn to tend your own henyard before turning to others, young man.’’
    Maggie saw Johnny’s fingers ball up, and before she could stop him his fist had shot out, squarely into her partner’s patrician nose.
    Unbelieving, Maggie waited for what would happen next. It took no time at all. A fine linen handkerchief was removed from a pocket to dab at the injured nose. It was returned with a small flourish, followed by a great fist that smashed into Johnny’s face, sending him reeling to the ground.
    Aghast, Maggie stared at the grinning stranger. His face had a wicked cast in the night light. He offered a hand to her, and she could see that it was clean, uncalloused by any work on the trail.
    “The music begins again. Would you care to join me?’’
    Maggie shook her head dumbly and sank next to her husband. She was out of her league. She’d been a fool to start this thing. Maggie tugged at Johnny, but he didn’t move. He’d been knocked unconscious. Other hands came to her rescue. Soon Sam and Irish were hoisting Johnny between them and Max was gently taking her arm, leading her back to their own camp. Johnny was slung down by the fire and Sam paused before her.
    “You don’t want to be messing around with that man, Maggie. Goes by the name of Jack Gentry, but I suspicion he’s had others. He ain’t like us. Lots of them ain’t like us.’’ Sam turned his eyes on Johnny who was now snoring gently. “He’ll be feeling his head in the mornin’, but should come back to his right senses.’’
    Maggie was left alone with her husband. She was still angry, not only with his choice of partners, but also with his attempts to stop her from the very thing he’d been doing himself. They’d never played at double-standards before. It was upsetting and frightening. She banked the fire, slung a buffalo robe over Johnny and went to sleep in the wagon with the children.

NINE
    When the Chandler party travelled past the Devil’s Gate the next day Johnny was in no mood to enjoy it. They stopped for the nooning on the far side, and several members of the group went off to explore the chasm. Johnny just collapsed in a sorry heap next to the fire.
    Maggie was not sympathetic. She had other things on her mind. The Donner Party had elected to travel in tandem with Chandler’s group, and aside from la belle widow~who’d been snooping around their fire that morning, offering unwelcome solace to Maggie’s husband~she’d picked up quite a bit of further gossip on the new people.
    As Sam had said, they were a different breed. That gambler’s hands had been soft and clean because he’d hired someone to drive his wagon. Most of the members of the Donner party appeared very well off, indeed. They travelled with two or three wagons a family and hired drovers. Their well-kept women were stuffed into couches from whence they sniffed at salts and perfumes to keep the dust of the road from touching their dainty nostrils. They probably had gold bars secreted under their wagon beds. They certainly had no dearth of food. One of the men was even rumored to have brought his entire cellar of fine French wines and brandies with him. Maggie, miffed at such largess in a world of hunger and struggle, hoped it would all turn to vinegar. In short, her mood had not improved with the new day.
    Johnny finally stirred, groaned, and raised his head to her.
    “I didn’t know you could dance.’’
    “I can’t. Where did you learn?’’
    “I had to do something all those long winters in the cities with my pa.’’
    “ Hah ! And you told me you spent them pining for