hands often stripped off their shirts after a long day and doused
themselves with water at the troughs. Jamie Slater's chest was
different. She couldn't look at him and wonder if the herd was doing
well. She looked at him and wondered what his flesh would feel like
beneath her fingers.
Maybe he read her mind. Maybe her thoughts were obvious in her eyes.
They were still locked with his in the mirfof.
Her smile faded and she felt a crimson blush rising to her cheeks.
She prayed for motion then and she managed to move her feet and hurry
past him to the fire. 'Fish!' she said delightedly.
'Freshwater fish, just wonderful,' Dolly supplied happily.
'Jon, you're wonderful!' Tess claimed.
'Oh, I didn't catch these. Jamie did,' he told her casually.
Dolly passed Tess a plate.
'I'm taking a walk to the brook with a few of the utensils. I'll be
right back.' 'Thanks, Dolly,' Tess said. Dolly winked. Jon smiled at
Tess as she hungrily ate her fish.
'Coffee?' he asked her.
'Please.' He handed her a mug, then said something about finishing the
harness.
She was left alone with a beautiful, early morning sun and the delicious
food and coffee. She set down her plate and took a long swallow of
coffee.
She closed her eyes, inhaled the aroma and felt the heat. When she
opened her eyes, Jamie was standing before her.
'Miss. Stuart, you might want to hurry along a little. The rest of us
have been up a while now, and I'm ready to ride.
We can make Wiltshire by tomorrow if we keep moving.' She gazed up at
his newly shaven face. All the planes and angles were handsome, smooth
and rugged all at once-- masculine ... and still belligerent. It was
war, she thought.
She sighed softly.
'Why, Lieutenant, I, at least, am fully clothed.
And I do promise that I can finish this coffee and the fish before you
can be dressed and ready to ride.'
' Then let's see it, huh?'
He started to walk by her.
'Oh, Lieutenant,' she called. 'What?'
'You're bleeding, sir. There seems to be a--a gash right at the tip of
your chin. Have you been Shaving long, sir?'
'Longer than you've been wearing a corset, Miss. Stuart. A whole lot
longer,' he told her pleasantly. That time, when he stepped by, she
quickly leaped to her feet, finished her coffee and, as quickly and
delicately as possible, peeled the last of her fish from the bone. She
glanced over her shoulder.
He was buttoning the last button of his shirt.
She cast the last drop of coffee and bit of food into the ashes of the
camp fire and raced for the steps to the driver's seat of the wagon.
She made it just as he rode up on his roan.
'I won,' she told him.
