Free Charlene Sands by Bodines Bounty

the coffeepot to brewing, she decided it was past time to get better acquainted with the man she knew so little about.
     
    Snow continued to fall into the evening. Emma huddled by the stove to keep warm, watching biscuits cook in the fry pan. Her petticoats had been used for Bodine’s bandages and she’d washed out her stockings today as he slept, so now her legs erupted in chilly bumps. She couldn’t rely on her clothes to keep her warm enough, yet with Bodine on the mend, notions of donning his cozy woolen shirt again weren’t fathomable.
    So Emma baked away the day. She tried her hand at making an apple pie, soaking the dried fruit in hot water to bring out the juices. She’d added a bit of berry wine for flavor, and hoped the result was an edible dessert.
    She hummed softly, a silly ditty she’d learned as a child, “Turkey in the Straw.” Emma turned her biscuits and pulled out a jar of berry preserves, feeling a bit less guilty about using Big Ed’s provisions after Bodine’s assurance that he wouldn’t mind.
    He’d saved the trapper from a gruesome death.
    Emma shivered at the thought of Big Ed being devoured by a grizzly, yet she was confused at Bodine’s contradictory behavior. He’d rather have her fend off a bear to get into the root cellar than have her ride into town for necessities. She didn’t believe Hurley’s men would have followed her this far, even if they could have picked up her trail through the storm. But she wasn’t a bounty hunter like Bodine. She had to trust his instincts, she supposed. He’d gotten her this far, unharmed.
    Emma moved the biscuits over in the pan, setting slices of bacon to sizzle next to them. The words of her hummed tune entered her mind, and without any great thought the lyrics flowed out. She became caught up in the jingle and swayed to and fro as she attended to the meal.
    “You sound like an angel.” Bodine’s gruff voice startled her. She turned to find him in the big chair, his hair rumpled, his eyes half-open but locked onto hers. “I’d hear it in my dreams.”
    “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I…sometimes I forget myself. The songs just pour out of me. I’ll be more careful.”
    “Ain’t a complaint, Emmy.”
    He sat lazily on the chair assessing her, watching her with probing eyes. She turned around to attend to the fry pan, confused by the intensity of Bodine’s direct gaze. Jittery, Emmy clammed up and concentrated on the meal she was preparing.
    He was quiet for a time and she hoped he had fallen asleep again. She needed time to sort out her befuddled thoughts. She was inexplicably drawn to him. Yes, he had saved her life and maybe that was part of it. Confident and sure, Bodine was short on talk, tall on actions. He was handsome; there was no denying that. Longish dark hair curled at his nape and eyes the color of storm clouds captured attention without a spoken word. High cheekbones and a full mouth, covered now with almost a week’s growth of beard, Bodine was a man like no other she’d met.
    It was silly of her to entertain such notions anyway. Emma was on a mission to find her father. She had set goals for her life. She didn’t need to daydream of something that would never be.
    “Where’d you get such a voice?”
    Emma turned sharply and stared into the chest of the man she’d saved, his shirt unbuttoned enough for her to see the crisp hairs on his skin and the strength of his throat. Lifting her eyes to meet his, she swallowed. “My mother. She had a gift and it seems she passed that on to me.”
    Bodine cocked his lips up. “So it seems, so tell me what—”
    “No. I won’t say another word about myself. Bodine, I know nothing about you. Nothing. Other than that you walked into Hurley’s saloon very late that night and came to my aid.”
    Bodine’s mouth twitched. “I haven’t had much chance to talk lately.”
    “I would guess…you don’t much like to anyway.”
    “You’d be right.”
    “Are