Free Ana Seymour by Jeb Hunters Bride

such a way as to leave a tiny bit of space for them to put bedrolls at night. But she knew that the wagon captain had no idea of just how full their wagon was. She thought for a minute about telling him, but changed her mind. After all, he’d said that the river was not as high as usual. And the four oxen they’d been given by the Boone store had proved to be reliable, if plodding, beasts. They’d make it across all right, she decided.
    Patrick was watching her with an anxious expression as if he, too, had his mind on their overloaded wagon. She stood and went to stand behind him, putting her hands reassuringly on his shoulders. “It should be an exciting day, then,” she said in a deliberately cheery voice.
    Patrick twisted his neck to look up at her. “Do you think…” he began doubtfully.
    She dug her hands into his shoulders to stop his question. “I think everything’s going to be just fine,” she said.
    The others around the fire were all getting to their feet John Burnett, a thin, serious man who said little but watched over his wife and two daughters with the care of a mother bear, reached to take Polly and Molly’s hands to walk with them in the darkness. “Isit safe for everyone to ride across in the wagons, Captain?” he asked. “Perhaps I should carry my girls across one by one.”
    Jeb shook his head reassuringly. “As I said, the river’s low. As long as we keep order and everyone follows instructions, we should all get across safe and sound without any problems. Without even getting our feet wet”
    John nodded his approval to Jeb, then said a formal good-night to Scott, Patrick and Kerry, before he turned to start back toward his wagon with Polly and Molly skipping along at his side.
    “We’ll see everyone in the morning,” Dorothy added with a disarming smile that was in marked contrast to her husband’s stiffness.
    Jeb waited a moment to see if Haskell would take his leave, but when the prospector seemed in no hurry to depart, he said his own good-nights and headed down the line of wagons.
    Scott waited until he had disappeared in the darkness, then turned to Kerry. “I don’t like to think of you having to handle those animals across a river.”
    “I’ve managed to handle them well enough across the prairie,” she answered with a little thrust of her full lip. “I don’t see how it will be so different.”
    Scott took a step closer, then glanced over at Patrick, who had stood along with everyone else but had not moved away from the fire. “Patrick, my boy, why don’t you go give the animals a final check? Let me talk to your sister a minute.”
    Patrick looked a little surprised to be dismissed in such a fashion, but then he gave a good-natured grin. “You can talk to her, but you can’t exactly do anysparking, can you? She’s a boy, remember? It wouldn’t look too good.”
    “Patrick!” Kerry exclaimed. She didn’t know if she was more distressed by the knowledge that her baby brother would think about such things or that he might be right in his assumption that Scott’s request for time alone with her had romantic overtones.
    “Well, it’s true, Kerry. He goes moony-eyed when he looks at you, just like Mickey Flanagan used to.”
    Scott ran his hand over the bristly blond whiskers of his chin and looked as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or scold. “Go on, boy,” he said finally. “Nobody’s going to do any sparking here. I just need to talk to Kerry.”
    Patrick skipped off to the back of the wagon and Scott turned to Kerry again. “Now don’t raise those independent hackles of yours at me again, lass, but neither you nor the boy has the strength to hold that team if it should run into trouble during the crossing. I’d like to take my rig across and then come back and ride across with you.”
    Kerry realized that the offer, just like everything else Scott had done for them since their first day on the trail, was meant to be helpful. But once again she