About the Author
March 1875
The sight of the golden-haired beauty stopped Chip Evans in his tracks. He hadn’t seen the lovely Miss Caroline Hunt since he’d returned to Placerville. But there she stood, shielded from the California sunshine by the hotel’s balcony as she rummaged in the beaded handbag dangling from her wrist.
He drank in the vision with the eagerness of a man who’d been stranded in the desert for days. The Plan didn’t call for him to begin courting a lady for another three years, but a fellow couldn’t pass up the opportunity to feast his eyes on such a striking specimen of femininity, could he?
Callie, as everyone called the petite woman with the smile as warm as a spring day, could have walked out of the pages of one of those fashion magazines at the mercantile. Her light pink gown, with its form-fitting bodice, hugged her in all the right places. The rosiness in her cheeks added a nice splash of color, drawing his attention to her exquisite features—clear blue eyes, a pert nose and petal-soft lips. Or so he imagined.
He gave himself a mental kick. Although he’d welcome the opportunity to kiss Callie, he had no business thinking such a thing. Sure, she’d agreed to dine with him. Once. They’d enjoyed a delicious meal with delightful conversation, but that was the extent of it. Entertaining romantic notions could be a distraction and keep him from reaching his goals.
Why he’d asked her to join him in the first place remained a mystery. One minute she’d been seeing to his order at the Blair Brothers Lumber Company, where she worked as a clerk, and the next he’d issued the invitation. Giving in to an impulse wasn’t like him.
Callie snapped her reticule shut, spied him and started. She composed herself, lifted a gloved hand to shoulder level and gave a demure wave, appearing almost shy. Odd. The Callie he knew exuded confidence.
Chip sauntered across the wide main street to the Cary House, his boot heels thudding against the hard-packed earth. He stepped onto the plank walkway and struck a casual pose, leaning against one of the pillars supporting the balcony overhead. “Where are you off to all fancied up like that?”
She blinked in rapid succession. “Fancied up? If you intended to compliment me, that’s not the way to go about it.”
“No, but you look cute when you’re piqued.”
“So you admit to intentionally irritating me?”
He would admit to no such thing, even it was the truth. “I’d say you look stunning—” which she did “—but you’d probably accuse me of being too forward.”
The hint of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth, but the irksome woman wouldn’t let it break free. Normally, she was easygoing. “Although I appreciate the thought, I’m unclear as to the reason behind your flattery. Was there something you wanted?”
Since admitting the sincerity behind his compliment could be telling, he chose to answer her question instead. “You’re standing at the stagecoach stop, and you were smiling when I first saw you. It appears you’re going somewhere and are looking forward to your trip. Am I right?”
She swept her gaze from his slouch hat to his boots and back again. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. I’m going to visit my brother.”
“Is he still in Shingle Springs?”
Her trademark smile burst forth in all its radiant glory. “You remembered.”
“Of course.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that...” She brushed the toe of her boot over a knothole in the walkway, the leather sole rasping over the rough pine.
“Go on.”
