Free Dorothy Garlock by The Searching Hearts Page B

if materializing from her thoughts, Lucas was striding toward her as she came out of the wagon. Every evening he and Mustang came walking by, checking the ironbound wheels. She usually managed to be away from the wagon or in it when the inspection was made. Tonight Lucas knelt down as he came to each wheel and looked with care at the metal strip that bound the wood circle together. Mustang commented on each; being a wagoner and a blacksmith by trade, he was performing one of the tasks assigned to him.
    After nodding a cool greeting, Tucker moved toward the small campfire Lottie had built. Several such fires blazed in front of the wagons where the women rested before going to bed. Despite her cordial nature, Tucker was no nearer becoming friends with any of them than she was the day she arrived. There was not the camaraderie among them she had expected. Each woman kept to her own small circle with her own thoughts to occupy her.
    She went to stand beside the fire after passing behind Laura and placing her hand on her shoulder so she would know she was there. She stood with her back to the wagon, very aware of the male voices behind her.

    “Is that Mr. Steele and Mustang checking the wagon, Tucker?”
    “Yes.” Tucker wished Laura hadn’t said anything. It would give Lucas an excuse to stop and talk if he heard her say his name. He did.
    “’Evening, Laura. ’Evening, Lottie. You making out all right?”
    “’Evening, Mr. Steele. We’re doing fine now that the rain has stopped. Tucker says we’re coming into hilly country,” Laura responded.
    “We are, Laura. They’re mostly rolling hills, but in some places we’ll have to make our own tracks. We’re traveling a bit askew till we get to the San Antonio–El Paso Trail.” Lucas spoke to Laura but his eyes were on Tucker, and she moved out of the firelight to hide the color that was creeping up into her cheeks.
    “Is . . . Mr. Garrett still scouting ahead?” Laura asked with a breathless flutter in her voice that no one but Tucker would have recognized.
    “He rides ahead, but not too far out now. It’s after we cross the Colorado and head for the Pecos that we’ll be glad we’ve got Buck with us.”
    “It was nice of him to take me across the creek.”
    Lucas stood silently, his eyes on Tucker, who was edging toward the darkness. He had a notion to grab her by the hair and jerk her away from the others and ask her what the hell was the matter with her. She was looking at him like he was something lower than a snake.
    Tucker was tense and nervous and suddenly very tired. A movement caught her eye and the soft glow of a woman’s face came into view. Cora Lee was
waiting for Lucas to walk her way. A desperate anger filled Tucker, and she made an abrupt move back toward the fire. She felt sick. Her supper was rolling round and round in her stomach. This was the third night in a row the girl had waited for him to finish inspecting the wheels. Oh . . . she hated him for making her feel this way, for making her wonder if he had held Cora Lee in his arms and kissed her! Was Cora Lee as intoxicated by his kisses as she had been? Did Cora Lee quiver with rapture when he whispered, “I’ve waited all day for now.”
    “Miss Houston.” Lucas was suddenly at her elbow, and she turned to him, her green eyes glowing with anger.
    “Yes, Mr. Steele?” she snapped, her voice reflecting her agitation.
    His gaze narrowed at the resentment smoldering in her eyes. His mouth thinned, and he pulled a folded paper from his shirt pocket.
    “The map. Perhaps you’ll make a copy of it so I can have this back.” She took the paper from his hand, and still he stood there. He knew the others were watching, and he knew Cora Lee was waiting in the darkness. Damn that girl! She always had some half-baked, yet plausible, excuse for waiting for him. He faced Tucker calmly, his expression giving away nothing of what he was thinking. Her head was tilted defiantly, her red-gold