Free A Hero's Heart by Sylvia McDaniel

he walked out of their camp, toward his own wagon.
    Rachel ignored Wade and went back to wringing diapers and hanging them on the wagon. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her every movement, yet she resisted the magnetic pull.
    Wade strolled over, his thumbs hooked in his belt. He stopped mere inches from her, and she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. He stood so close she could smell his musky scent, feel his breath upon her face.
    His fingers felt rough as he brushed a stray lock of hair back from her jaw. Bewitching emerald eyes sparkled with amusement. “Sleep well last night, Mrs. Ketchum?”
    “Like a lamb,” she lied.
    He laughed. “Lambs need protection from big bad wolves.” His fingers lifted her chin even higher. “I’ll be sure to sleep close by your side tonight, to protect you.”
    Before Rachel could reply, his lips brushed hers in a gentle kiss that left her aching for more. When he broke away, she took a deep breath, gasping for air.
    Rachel stared dumbly after him, as he strolled off. If this was how seduction felt, how in the world was she ever going to resist?
    * * *
    For the next two weeks, they followed the Platte River, the trail ascending slowly as they traveled parallel to the Laramie Mountains.
    Time seemed to pass in a blur of sunrises and sunsets. Three weeks had passed since the Indian attack. Three weeks since her father’s death. A mere two weeks since she and Wade had agreed to their ‘pretend marriage.’ During which she had seen little of her husband. It seemed he was always busy taking first or second watch.
    The wagon jostled a sleepy Rachel on the seat beside Becky.
    “Yah! Get a move on,” Becky yelled to the oxen.
    Rachel opened her heavy eyelids and noticed they’d stopped in the knee-deep water of a shallow stream. The oxen bellowed in fright as Becky snapped the whip, cracking it across their backs.
    “Get on, Elmo,” she called to the lead ox. The wagon swayed from the animals’ efforts, but the wheels didn’t budge.
    The huge beasts strained, the wagon rocked, its wheels sinking deeper in the mud. With rising alarm, Rachel knew her worst fears were about to be realized.
    Wade had promised the first time this happened he would leave the organ and Bibles behind. Panicked, she started unlacing her boots as quick as her nimble fingers would unhook the lacings.
    Becky glanced at her in shock. “What are you doing?”
    “I’m going to help them,” Rachel replied as she slid over the side of the wagon, trying to hold her skirt up with one hand. The water came almost to her knees, the muddy stream swirling from the oxen’s efforts.
    The slippery ooze squished between her toes, as she crept to the back of the wagon. The rocking chair was tied to the feed trough, which Rachel leaned against.
    “Now, Becky. Get the oxen moving now.”
    At Becky’s command, the animals strained and pulled at their yoke. Rachel pushed with all her strength, but the wagon only rocked back and forth.
    Toby sloshed through the water to Rachel’s side and put his back against the wagon. Together, the two of them shoved, but the wagon only sank deeper.
    Rachel let her skirt drop and reached into the swirling water, to feel for the wheel. With her bare hands, she tried digging the wagon wheel free—anything to keep Wade from finding them in this dilemma.
    Scooping the mud away from the wheel, she yelled to Becky. “Try again.”
    Becky snapped the whip. “Get on, Elmo.”
    “Push, Toby, push!” Rachel cried. The two of them strained while Becky called to the oxen.
    The sound of a horse splashing through the creek sent Rachel’s heart plummeting. Instinctively she knew the rider was Wade and refused to acknowledge him.
    “Having trouble, Mrs. Ketchum?” His mocking voice sent a chill up her spine.
    Rachel glanced up to see Wade sitting astride his sorrel mare, his green eyes twinkling with I-told-you-so amusement.
    “No. We’re just trying to get the wagon out of a