Free Jillian Hart by Maclain's Wife Page A

it.
    Someone was watching them.

        "Polly. This is the creek where I found that gold nugget." Emily hit the ground running. "It was worth a whole dollar."
    "I found a hundred-dollar nugget once." Polly felt the pinto sidestep, and she tightened the reins and gave the animal a comforting pat.
    "You learned to pan on the way here?"
    "Well, yes. You could say that." Polly swung down, her conscience wincing. "I bought my pan from a miner who'd struck gold on his claim. He said he found such a rich vein, he was selling it to a big company and didn't need his mining things anymore. He claimed this pan had brought him luck."
    "Have you been lucky with it so far?"
    "Well, I found that hundred-dollar nugget."
    Ben's hand curled over hers. "You tell a good story, Polly."
    She could read the skeptical slant of his brows. "You don't believe me?"
    "The stage line does go through the mining camps." He took the reins from her.
    "It's true, can't you see that, Pa?" Emily took the pan Polly offered her and stared at it as if it were gold itself. "I bet we can strike it rich, Polly."
    "We might as well give it a good try."
    Ben's hand caught hers. "I want you to stay in my sight."
    "Afraid I'll take off for the hills?"
    "No, bears live in these woods."
    She didn't believe him. He led the horses away to water them. He watched her every step as she joined Emily at the creek bank. She felt his gaze like a long hot touch on her face and then on her body as she took off her shoes, waded into the creek and helped Emily pick a spot to pan.
    Whenever she looked up, there he was, his gaze unblinking, his attention on her. When the horses were watered, he tethered them in the sunshine where they could graze and drowse. The lazy breeze carried his low voice as he spoke with the animals.
    Although she seemed to have her own personal sheriff watching her every move, jail was not a better choice. Polly vowed to remember that. The blue sky stretched overhead, and tall trees spread their leaves toward the sun. Birds sang and insects buzzed. A toad plopped a few feet along the bank to follow the sunshine. The wind tousled her hair and she breathed in the fresh woodsy scent of the forest. The creek gurgled over rocks and brushed cool water against her ankles. No stone cell could feed her heart like this.
    With the sunlight on her face, she knelt beside Emily.
    "I don't have nothin' but rocks." The girl swiped at her bangs. "So far this pan ain't very lucky."
    "Sure it is." Polly took the pan, cool from the stream, and held it to her chest. "Let's pick another spot. How about over there? See how the water slows down around that bend? It's a better spot."
    They sloshed together against the current, scaring little tadpoles and tiny fish. A bird landed on a rock and squawked in protest, then took off for a quieter perch. She spotted Ben on the bank, shoulder propped against a tree, still watching her.
    She shaded her eyes with her hand, dripping water onto her shirt. "You're still mad about the kitchen fire."
    "I'm not mad." His mouth quirked in the corner.
    "He's mad," Emily whispered.
    "If you'd set my house on fire, I'd be more than a little mad." Polly flicked water off her fingertips, then shaded her eyes again just in time to watch that hard line at his jaw soften. "You could have done a lot more than yell. I guess you'll just hold it against me for the rest of my life."
    "That's not what I'm holding against you."
    "Hmm." He didn't look mad, but he felt distant. "You don't want me teaching your daughter to pan for gold."
    "Next thing you know, she'll refuse to go to school and head off into the gold fields to file a claim."
    "Oh, Pa." Emily leaped out of the creek and grabbed him by the hand. "I wouldn't leave without you."
    "You like the idea of owning a gold mine, is that it?" Ben's eyes warmed, and there