to see some things.”
“What things?” Her tone went from frosty to cold, stinging sleet in sixty seconds.
“For one, he had no business bringing his family on a wagon train with as little preparation as he’d made.”
“What do you mean?” Her voice rose. “Mathias prepared for this trip.”
“Then I’d have to say he didn’t have much experience. And for another thing, looks to me like you’re gonna run out of food before you get halfway to Oregon. Your man didn’t plan far enough ahead.”
Her voice turned to steel. “I’ll thank you to shut your mouth, Mr. Carver.”
Again he laughed. “You know, whenever you’re mad, it’s ‘Mr. Carver.’ And when you’re learning something, or scared, it’s ‘Lee.’”
“I cannot make up my mind about you, Mr. Carver.” She bit his name out in hard, clearly enunciated syllables.
“You might want to hurry that up a little, Mrs. Borland. We’re going to be in each other’s back pockets for another two months.”
That seemed to shut her up. He closed his eyes, listening to her uneven breathing. He knew she wasn’t asleep because she kept twitching under her quilt.
The wolves were crooning loud and long by now. Lee let himself listen and thought about Jenna, about what she’d sound like if... Ah, hell. That wasn’t any way to get to sleep.
But he couldn’t help thinking about it. He smiled up at the shadowy underside of the wagon and closed his eyes.
* * *
Odious man. He was laughing at her, and if there was one thing Jenna hated it was being laughed at. Who did he think he was, anyway? She would never last another two months in the company of this man with his outspoken ways and his subtle goading.
The South had lost the War, hadn’t it? Mathias always said the Confederate soldiers should have slunk back to their ruined plantations and done some honest work. At the moment she half agreed with him.
On the other hand, some of the things Mathias said, which he’d expressed often and crudely, were things she could not agree with. Now that he was gone, she could try to erase some of the hateful poison he’d spewed into the minds of his daughters. It hadn’t all been about her; mostly it was about how worthless other people were. How they owed him something. How he was better than they were.
“Jenna.”
“Oh, what is it?” she said sharply. She clamped her jaw shut. At least he hadn’t called her “Mrs. Borland.”
“I owe you an apology. I had no right to question you in that manner.”
“Oh.” Instantly her annoyance began to fade, but she couldn’t resist one last jab. “Tit for tat, Mr. Carver. The next time we converse it will be my turn to pry.”
He chuckled. “I will look forward to it, Jenna. Good night.”
She debated making a retort until she heard him roll over on his pallet. “Good night,” she said at last. After a long pause, she added, “Lee.”
His soft laugh made her grit her teeth. Why, why was it that he got under her skin? Tomorrow, when he least expected it, she would find some way to make him squirm. She could hardly wait.
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