Free Rocky Mountain Man (Historical) by Jillian Hart Page A

wanted what was best for her.
    Taking her from the mountain man was important to them, and she was too weak and weary to fight.Granny was there, seeing that Duncan lived. I can trust Gran, I know I can.
    As the surrey jostled down the mountain road and into the bright expanse of prairie, the morning sun turned the insides of her eyelids orange. She screwed her eyes shut tight, but the brightness remained. All around her was life. The twittering larks and the cheerful robins and jackrabbits darting out of the road. Gophers popping out of their holes to stand on their back feet to watch the passing vehicle. Their gossipy chatter carried their excitement on the wind.
    All of these things she always took such delight in. But on this new day, she felt as if a part of her had been irrevocably lost. It was foolish to think so much about a man who probably never wanted to see her again. But she felt as if a link of some kind had been forged between them and, like the sun to the earth, it remained.
    Who knew what held the sun in the sky? It was the same with her heart. She did not love Duncan Hennessey. She did not like him. She knew he was an unpleasant loner who seemed to hate her.
    But true need and sorrow had flashed in his eyes. It had been real, for she felt it still. A hard dark shell blotting out the light of day. As though a shadow had fallen permanently across the sun’s face, and nothing would ever seem as bright or as warm again.

Chapter Five
    T he side gate squeaked open, and Betsy leaned over the wooden rail on the back porch and squinted through the bright afternoon sun. She predicted it was Mother and resisted the urge to run into the house, bar the door and hide down in the cellar until her mother gave up and went away.
    The only problem with that wish was the fact that Lucille Gable never gave up until she got what she wanted, so there was no point in hiding. Not that Betsy was someone who ran from her problems instead of facing them, it was just the hope of escape that was tempting.
    Remembering how her mother had taken charge once they’d reached the edge of town, giving Joshua orders and escorting Betsy into the house and putting her to bed. She’d lain there to please Ma, but she hadn’t been able to sleep. Her mother had stayed, and she’d never seen her mother more determined. They’d argued, and Ma had charged off in a huff.
    Betsy was certain her mother would return with renewed determination. Her stomach tightened. She loved her mother. She didn’t want to fight. But she couldn’t give up her life and her freedom, either. She loved this little home she rented. She even enjoyed being a laundress. It was better than living in her mother’s house as if she was still twelve and her doting and well-meaning Ma would spoil her and suffocate her and, well…she’d be as good as jailed.
    Dreading a certain confrontation, Betsy tucked the needle into the trousers’ waistband, set it aside and tried to figure out how to manage it better this time.
    But it wasn’t the imposing form of Lucille Gable that came around the corner of the house, but one of her dearest lifelong friends. Rayna Ludgrin Lindsay, glowing with her pregnancy, barely noticeable behind the gathers of her full skirt, nearly stumbled in her relief.
    â€œGood afternoon!” Betsy had never been so glad.
    â€œOh, there you are! Your mother had me believing you were knocking on death’s door, but look at you. You’re in one piece. You’re safe. You’re not harmed?”
    â€œHeavens no. I’ve lost one good night’s sleep, and that’s not so terribly serious. You know how my mother can be.” Betsy eased her steaming cup onto the flat of the porch rail. “I’m just sorry I missed getting together with everyone. And I was supposed to bring dessert.”
    â€œI know. To think the lengths you will go to get out of baking.” Rayna, with a small basket on her