Never, except with her brother, had she given the slightest indication she was anything other than grief stricken over the death of her husband. But this strange man sitting next to her was different. She suspected nothing could shock him, no matter what she said. “I wasn’t heartbroken. The truth is”—she couldn’t believe she was saying this—”I’m glad he’s gone, and I don’t miss him at all.”
She waited for his expression of shock, or at least surprise, but all he did was nod agreeably. “Care to tell me why?”
She had kept her miserable life with her husband a deep, dark secret, shared with no one, not even her mother. It would have always remained that way, or so she thought. She would certainly have never revealed her innermost thoughts to a man said to be waster. She should never have listened. Jack McCoy was anything but a waster, not with his sympathetic manner and the way he regarded her with those understanding eyes. Besides, she was tired of pretending to be grief stricken while her true feelings about her husband seethed within her. What a relief to finally get them out. “I met Joseph at a church social. He was tall, good-looking, and ever so charming. He had just inherited his family’s farm not far from town and was quite well off. All the girls fell for him, me included. At the church picnic, you can imagine how flattered I was when the box lunches were auctioned off and he bought mine. After that, he came courting. By then I’d fallen deeply in love with him. He was everything I ever wanted in a man, kind and courteous, charming, and handsome besides. When he asked me to marry him, I was thrilled.”
“Did your parents approve?”
“Not exactly.” She wasn’t being honest. Why hold back? “Actually, they were dismayed when I told them I wanted to marry Joseph. They didn’t care for him. When I asked why, they couldn’t say exactly, other than there was something they sensed about him that didn’t seem genuine, as if his charm was all on the surface and he was hiding his true character underneath. I paid no attention. I was madly in love. If my parents hadn’t caved in, I would have run off and married him anyway. We had a huge wedding, and I moved to his farm—he had a big farmhouse ten miles out of town.”
“And then?”
“His charm disappeared in a hurry, from the day we were married.” Every detail of that first awful night still burned in her memory. With her limited knowledge of married life, she’d dreamed of a romantic wedding night when he would gently hold her in his arms, shower her with tender kisses, stroke her hair, all the time whispering how much he loved her, and then, gradually… She hadn’t been sure what would happen next except it would all be wonderful and she would soon be floating away on the wings of love. It hadn’t happened that way. He’d thrown her on the bed, ripped off the lace-trimmed, chambray nightgown she’d made for her wedding night, and plunged himself inside her. The pain was excruciating. Afterward, she found blood on the bed.
No, Jack wouldn’t hear that part of her story. “I soon discovered Joseph had a jealous side, and he was extremely possessive. If he gave me money for food, I had to explain how I spent every penny. As time went by, he would hardly let me out of the house, not even to visit my parents. If I did go into town, I had to account for every minute I was gone. I had to resort to sneaking so I could visit my family. I hated that.”
“Did you tell your family?”
“How could I? Can you imagine how humiliated I felt, knowing my parents had been right and I was wrong? I had too much pride for that.”
“Did he ever hit you?”
“No, but he threatened to. I think eventually he would have.” She paused. She’d told this stranger too much. “That’s all behind me now.”
“So what do you want in life, aside from reading your books and…what was it? Oh, yes, going to church and doing good works for the sick and poor?”
She’d heard the slight thread of amusement in his voice but would give him an honest answer. “Needless to say, I shall never marry again. Aside from finding my sister, all I want is to get to California and settle into the same sort of life I had in Indiana. I want to live a life as ordinary and safe as I can. If I see any sign of danger, I shall run the other way.”
An easy smile played at the corner of his mouth. “A noble goal if ever I heard one.” He arose and took his horse’s reins. “Time to get back.”
Returning to the campfire with Rosie in tow, Sarah couldn’t imagine why she’d revealed so much about herself to a stranger. He’d never tell, but that wasn’t the point. She didn’t care for the way he’d looked at her when she told him what she wanted in life. Not that his expression was in any way disapproving, but when he had said she had a noble goal, she got the impression she’d disappointed him. But why should she care? Hadn’t she vowed never to depend on a man again, nor be influenced by his opinions? Well, she’d better try harder because every time she talked to Jack McCoy, she got all atwitter inside. Everything about him intrigued her: that faint light that twinkled in the depth of his dark eyes; his ruggedly handsome face, bronzed by wind and sun. She liked the way he dressed, not in the baggy, shapeless clothing the other men wore but in well-fitting dark pants that didn’t conceal his slim hips and flat stomach, and a fringed, buckskin jacket that hung nicely over his broad shoulders.
She absolutely, positively must stay away from him.
“Sarah, I want to talk to you.”
Her father was calling. He sat alone and frowning by the campfire. She walked to him and asked, “What is it, Pa?”
“What were you and Jack McCoy doing at the creek just now?”
At first, she bristled. She was twenty-nine years old. She’d been married, for heaven’s sake. She didn’t need a chaperone. But then Pa was only doing what he thought best, trying to protect her. He’d lost one daughter, so he worried, although needlessly, about losing the other. She gave him a reassuring pat on his arm. “It was nothing. We just happened to go to the creek at the same time. Mr. McCoy and I are barely on speaking terms.”
Pa didn’t look convinced. “Don’t forget he’s a gambler who cheats at cards.”
“How do you know that? Just because Mr. Moorehead said so? Don’t forget all the kind things he’s done for this family.”
“You’re quick to defend him. Just watch yourself. I suspect there’s something between you whether you realize it or not.”
Pa stalked off, leaving Sarah in a fury over his unsolicited advice. The trouble was he was right, and that made her angrier still.
* * * *
Sarah’s vow to stay away from Jack McCoy lasted until the middle of the next morning. She was riding Rosie a distance behind the wagon when he, on Bandit, dropped back and fell in step beside her. “You ride well,” he said.
She gave him a simple thank you, concealing her delight at his compliment. Funny, he could have told her she was the most beautiful woman in the world and she wouldn’t have cared because she’d long since grown tired of men’s shallow compliments. Even so, she greatly prided herself on her riding skills, and he’d noticed the one thing that would make her glow inside and like him all the more. In return, she should find something nice to say about him, but what? A man as strong and independent as Jack would scorn any attempt at easy flattery. Ah! She’d thought of just the right thing. “I like your horse.”
“You do?” He frowned in puzzlement. “And may I ask why?”
“Bandit gallops big and turns really fast. He has a huge step and moves very straight.”
Jack broke into a pleased smile. “Not only that, he’s gentle and quiet, never gives me any trouble.”
She patted Rosie’s withers. “If I didn’t have Rosie, I’d be envious. Your horse is truly a fine animal.”
“No woman ever complimented me on my horse before.” Jack burst out laughing. “You have found the key to my heart, Widow Gregg.”
She