Read Online The Ruby Brooch (The Celtic Brooch Trilogy) by Katherine Logan - Free Book Online
Authors: Katherine Logan
Tags: Fiction
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what you’ve done and wish you well.” Mr. Nieland batted away tears in his eyes.
Cullen patted the man’s shoulder. “Maybe next year.” Traveling to Oregon stood as a risky proposition for the young and healthy. For older folks, age added additional burdens as they crossed the trail hemmed by disease and bad water. Cullen didn’t want to pressure the man. Instead, he watched him walk away, noticing the downward slope of his shoulders. Nieland loved his wife more than he loved his dream.
Cullen shook his head and reclaimed Kit’s arm. “My apologies.”
“I hope you were able to help him. He looked defeated.”
“Nieland was leaving with us in the morning, but he can’t accept the risk.” Cullen shot a quick glance over his shoulder at the man trudging down the sidewalk. “You might discover this is too great a risk for you, too.”
She put her thumbnail to her mouth and tapped the tip against her teeth. “I know the road won’t be easy, but neither is waking up every day without my husband. I appreciate your concern. Really, I do. But you don’t know how capable I am.” She dropped her hand and lifted her chin. “I can take care of myself.”
He doubted she could. The only evidence he’d seen were manicured nails, with the exception of her thumb, and a flawless complexion. Those spoke of elegance and privilege, not ability. If she made it as far as Fort Laramie, he’d be surprised. “For your sake, I hope you’re as capable as you claim to be.”
Her green eyes narrowed. “I need to go, Mr. Montgomery. Good night.”
“I’ll walk you—”
“That’s not necessary.” She hurried away, dodging freight wagons careening through the street.
“Mrs. MacKlenna.” She either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him, most likely the latter. Did the widow not have a lick of sense? Couldn’t she see the streets were dangerous and no place for a woman alone? He shuddered. If her behavior was indicative of how she’d act on the trail, he’d have his hands full keeping her safe from the elements and from herself.
The back of his neck prickled as if often did when the jury entered the courtroom to deliver his clients’ verdicts; especially the clients he knew were lying. He began to whistle Bach’s Toccato and Fugue. The dark, eerie melody seemed appropriate for following the mule-headed female.
THE SUN HAD had just crested the horizon when Kit crossed the hotel’s threshold and stepped out onto the sidewalk, carpetbag in hand. Her head hurt and greasy eggs weren’t sitting well in her stomach. Either her equilibrium was messed up from zapping backwards a hundred-sixty-plus years or the half bottle of champagne she’d consumed had made her sick. Did her drinking partner feel as bad? Probably not. Almost twice her size, he could handle a full bottle of wine.
Cullen’s questions had lulled her into his confidence. She couldn’t allow that to happen again. She cringed at the thought of the ramifications if he discovered where she was from.
He had followed her to the Barrett’s campsite and back to the hotel. His covert pursuit had irritated her, but on reflection, she knew concern had motivated him. In hindsight, she should have said something. But what? That she had a brown belt in karate and could beat the crap out of anyone who threatened her? That wouldn’t be smart. She needed him, but didn’t need him to hover. He was an intelligent man and could easily become suspicious.
“Mrs. MacKlenna.” Adam took the hotel steps two at a time. He slid to a winded stop in front of her, his broad hat hanging about his ears. “Pa sent me to fetch you. He feared you might not find your way back. I didn’t tell him you checked on your horse last night ‘cause he’d be madder than a bobcat with his tail tied in a knot. You don’t argue with Pa.”
“Thanks for the warning, but I don’t think we’ll argue. Do you?”
“No ma’am. Like I said, you don’t argue with Pa.” He
Cullen patted the man’s shoulder. “Maybe next year.” Traveling to Oregon stood as a risky proposition for the young and healthy. For older folks, age added additional burdens as they crossed the trail hemmed by disease and bad water. Cullen didn’t want to pressure the man. Instead, he watched him walk away, noticing the downward slope of his shoulders. Nieland loved his wife more than he loved his dream.
Cullen shook his head and reclaimed Kit’s arm. “My apologies.”
“I hope you were able to help him. He looked defeated.”
“Nieland was leaving with us in the morning, but he can’t accept the risk.” Cullen shot a quick glance over his shoulder at the man trudging down the sidewalk. “You might discover this is too great a risk for you, too.”
She put her thumbnail to her mouth and tapped the tip against her teeth. “I know the road won’t be easy, but neither is waking up every day without my husband. I appreciate your concern. Really, I do. But you don’t know how capable I am.” She dropped her hand and lifted her chin. “I can take care of myself.”
He doubted she could. The only evidence he’d seen were manicured nails, with the exception of her thumb, and a flawless complexion. Those spoke of elegance and privilege, not ability. If she made it as far as Fort Laramie, he’d be surprised. “For your sake, I hope you’re as capable as you claim to be.”
Her green eyes narrowed. “I need to go, Mr. Montgomery. Good night.”
“I’ll walk you—”
“That’s not necessary.” She hurried away, dodging freight wagons careening through the street.
“Mrs. MacKlenna.” She either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him, most likely the latter. Did the widow not have a lick of sense? Couldn’t she see the streets were dangerous and no place for a woman alone? He shuddered. If her behavior was indicative of how she’d act on the trail, he’d have his hands full keeping her safe from the elements and from herself.
The back of his neck prickled as if often did when the jury entered the courtroom to deliver his clients’ verdicts; especially the clients he knew were lying. He began to whistle Bach’s Toccato and Fugue. The dark, eerie melody seemed appropriate for following the mule-headed female.
THE SUN HAD had just crested the horizon when Kit crossed the hotel’s threshold and stepped out onto the sidewalk, carpetbag in hand. Her head hurt and greasy eggs weren’t sitting well in her stomach. Either her equilibrium was messed up from zapping backwards a hundred-sixty-plus years or the half bottle of champagne she’d consumed had made her sick. Did her drinking partner feel as bad? Probably not. Almost twice her size, he could handle a full bottle of wine.
Cullen’s questions had lulled her into his confidence. She couldn’t allow that to happen again. She cringed at the thought of the ramifications if he discovered where she was from.
He had followed her to the Barrett’s campsite and back to the hotel. His covert pursuit had irritated her, but on reflection, she knew concern had motivated him. In hindsight, she should have said something. But what? That she had a brown belt in karate and could beat the crap out of anyone who threatened her? That wouldn’t be smart. She needed him, but didn’t need him to hover. He was an intelligent man and could easily become suspicious.
“Mrs. MacKlenna.” Adam took the hotel steps two at a time. He slid to a winded stop in front of her, his broad hat hanging about his ears. “Pa sent me to fetch you. He feared you might not find your way back. I didn’t tell him you checked on your horse last night ‘cause he’d be madder than a bobcat with his tail tied in a knot. You don’t argue with Pa.”
“Thanks for the warning, but I don’t think we’ll argue. Do you?”
“No ma’am. Like I said, you don’t argue with Pa.” He
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