Free The Fortune by Beth Williamson Page B

throbbing and painful. He finally got to his feet and swayed at the rush of blood racing around his body. She’d turned him into an idiot led around by his rod.
    “I have to go.” Frankie backed up a few steps. “My sister will come looking for me.”
    He took her hand before she got too far. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”
    “Do not be sorry.” She grabbed his face and kissed him hard, just once, before she slipped off into the darkness.
    John stood there with a hard dick and his heart thumping madly for the woman he wasn’t engaged to. He was in serious trouble.

Chapter Five
    Declan slept on his bedroll beside Malloy’s tent. The area was separated from the wagon, which was fine by him. The fewer people took note of him, the better his element of surprise would be. The problem was with so many damn wagons, he had to check each one. It wasn’t as though he could ask someone if they knew the woman. That would be a quick way to get himself in a world of hurt. Malloy was a big man who carried a pistol strapped to his thigh and he looked as though he knew how to use his fists. Same for Buck Avery. The two of them would give him a challenge, to be sure.
    No, he didn’t want to charge in like a bull. He wanted to shimmy in like a snake and snatch her before anyone realized what he was about. That was the smart thing to do. Patience, however, was not his strongest quality.
    He woke the first morning with the wagon train in a foul mood, ready to tear the wagons apart to find the woman and get the hell back to New York. Declan didn’t know the first thing about living on the prairie except what he’d learned the hard way the last few days. He hadn’t slept well because of the strange noises. There weren’t crickets heard in his neighborhood in Manhattan— screaming babes, gunshots and breaking glass, but no chirping insects.
    Folks got up and readied themselves and their wagons to leave. Declan barely had time to check a dozen wagons before they started moving west. He saddled his horse, another skill he’d had to learn fast, and followed the lumbering group. His ass had grown numb every day he’d sat on the damn horse. He was used to walking, but it was difficult to get a view of everyone without being up high enough to see inside the wagons.
    By late afternoon, he’d been able to peer at most of the wagons and didn’t see anyone who resembled the woman. He’d only seen her the one time and from a distance, but he would know her if he saw her. Boredom and frustration loomed.  
    A young girl walked beside the wagons picking flowers, heedless of how close she came to the powerful oxen or the thick wheels. She sang to herself as she picked, but he couldn’t quite hear the words. It was a nice melody though and watching her gave him a chance to relax for a moment or two. He came up beside her and finally heard the words to the song, and it was a racy diddy! One he’d heard a time or two in New York. A laugh bubbled up his throat, surprising him. It had been years since he’d laughed.
     
    As I was sittin’ by the fire
    Tellin’ lies and drinkin’ porter
    Suddenly a thought came to my mind
    I’d never shagged O’Reilly’s daughter
     
    Giddy I ay, giddy I ay
    Giddy I ay for the one-balled Reilly
    Giddy I ay, no balls at all
    Rig-a-jig-jig, shag on!
     
    Her head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. “Are you laughing at me, mister?”
    “No, certainly not. I was thinking what a beautiful day it was and it made me happy.” He thought he might have smiled at the girl. What in the world was wrong with him?
    “If you were laughing at me, dammit, I’d punch you in the damn nose.” She huffed out a breath and went back to picking.
    “Did you just curse, lass?” He didn’t think he’d heard her right.
    She stopped and put her hands on her hips and pushed her hat back. Recognition flooded him. This wasn’t the woman, but had to be one of the sisters he’d been told about. Damn, but