“You’ll find me easy to please, Jessica,” he said. “All you have to do is smile in my direction.”
Such foolishness! “A smile will do it?” she asked.
“Just looking at you gives me pleasure,” he told her, and she laughed, a quick, harsh sound.
“I’ll put some stock in that if I didn’t know how I look these days, Finn.” She set her jaw, deliberately acknowledging her own shortcomings.
He laughed at her. The man had the audacity to touch his fingers to her cheek and then bend to kiss the tip of her nose. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss Jessica.”
Then he was laughing no longer, his mouth taking hers fiercely, his need powerful, elemental. And then they lurched, almost in unison, as the baby made its presence known to them both, a tiny hand or foot poking indiscriminately in protest…!
Acclaim for Carolyn Davidson’s recent titles
The Texan
“…heart-touching characters and a vivid, mythic setting…”
—Romantic Times
A Marriage by Chance
“This deftly written novel about loss and recovery is a skillful handling of the traditional Western, with the added elements of family conflict and a moving love story.”
—Romantic Times
A Convenient Wife
“Carolyn Davidson creates an engaging, complex plot with a hero to die for.”
—Romantic Times
The Tender Stranger
“Davidson wonderfully captures gentleness in the midst of heart-wrenching challenges, portraying the extraordinary possibilities that exist within ordinary marital love.”
—Publishers Weekly
Colorado Courtship
Carolyn Davidson
Sometimes those who point out our faults are not truly appreciated. But if the truth be known, I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to the women who read and critique my work and let me know when and where I have fallen short of the goal. They do their best to make me look good in front of my editors, and to those ladies I offer my heartfelt thanks for their efforts on my behalf. Brenda Rollins and Betty Barrs, this book is dedicated to you, with love.
And as always, to Mr. Ed, who loves me.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Prologue
Saint Louis, April 1862
He wanted her.
With but a single glance he acknowledged the desire flaring within him, knew instinctively she would fit neatly into his arms should he lift her against himself. His mouth tightened, as did the pressure of his knees against the sides of the horse he rode, and the black gelding sidestepped, tossing his head impatiently.
Appearing small and fragile beside the tall wagon, the woman’s face was in profile, her features finely drawn. Woman? She seemed but a girl, clad in a poorly fitting, voluminous dress. From beneath her sunbonnet, dark hair hung in a long braid down her back, the end tied with a bit of ribbon. It was a feminine touch, almost an aching reminder to the watching eye that, no matter the adversity, a woman’s need for such small fripperies would prevail.
To Finley Carson’s narrowed gaze, she appeared too delicate for the rigors of traveling across prairies toward the mountains that beckoned the unwary. Silently she stood looking upward at the seat, and then placed a slender hand on the wooden vehicle, hesitant, obviously fearful of climbing upward, lest she fall.
“Get in, Jessica.” The order was growled impatiently, the man standing beside the pair of oxen apparently not given to gallantry. Harsh syllables that offered no leniency to her smaller stature, her obvious fear.
“I’m not sure I can,” the young woman answered. “There’s nothing for me to step up on.” Her voice was husky, that of a woman full grown, but laced now with frustration only too clear to a bystander.
And a bystander was exactly what he must be, Finley Carson reminded himself. No matter that the man muttered an obscenity as he stalked back to where the young woman stood, it was not his concern that she was lifted and tossed with careless movements to sit atop the seat. Not his affair to wonder at her rough treatment by the man whose actions brought quick tears to her eyes and caused her to cringe from his uncaring hands.
Yet, the aching awareness of dark hair and fragile-boned femininity made Finn frown. The urge to rest callused palms upon her narrow shoulders, to look into those wary eyes, tugged at him. For a single moment he knew envy of another man, such as had never possessed him in his twenty-six years.
His hands tightened on the reins of his mount and moved with an almost unseen signal, turning his horse aside. The black gelding obeyed with a toss of his head, and Finn caught a glimpse of the woman’s face as she turned her head in his direction. Unsmiling, she nodded, a simple acknowledgment of his presence, and he felt a lurch in his chest as controlled anger gripped him.
He wanted her. Ached to lift her from where she huddled on the high seat. Yearned for a long moment to feel her softness against his body. The thought possessed him and he turned aside, his heels again nudging the barrel of his mount, urging him into an easy lope.
With a discipline gained from his years as an army scout, Finn Carson put the dark-eyed female from his mind, his jaw firm as he rode down the line of wagons. His gaze surveyed the men who performed
