Trail of Kisses Read online

  “I didn’t want to make this journey either,” she confessed.

  Callie glanced up at her. “You didn’t?”

  She shook her head and put her arm around Callie’s back. “No, it was my father’s idea. He has some idea that I won’t be safe until I’m in Denver City.”

  “It’s good that you have someone waiting for you,” Callie said. She sniffled, and her eyes were red, but no more tears streamed down her face.

  Lynne’s heart was heavy. If she added up her own misfortunes, they didn’t come close to those of her friend.

  “Miss Lewis.”

  Lynne and Callie both looked up to find young Dr. Meyers standing with his hat in his hand, regret drooping his shoulders.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss. I did everything I could,” he said.

  Emma turned bright pink and lowered her head as if trying to make herself invisible. Lynne gave the doctor a polite smile. Callie remained expressionless.

  “Thank you for all of your efforts, Dr. Meyers,” she said.

  “If you need anything,” he said, glancing to all three of the women, eyes lingering on Emma’s bowed head, “please ask.”

  “I will.” Callie nodded to him.

  He left and they sat in silence for a few minutes.

  “I’m very sorry for your loss too.”

  This time it was Cade who approached. Lynne snapped her eyes up, wary that he was there to cause trouble or tell her off.

  “Thank you, Mr. Lawson,” Callie answered him in a hollow voice.

  “I can help with anything you need done with the wagon or your ox team,” Cade went on. His glance flickered to Lynne. “I know Miss Tremaine is more than willing to help too. You just say the word.”

  For the second time that day, Lynne’s heart caught in her chest over the surprise of Cade’s kindness. It couldn’t last, though. He had already shown her that he was as stubborn as they came underneath it all. So why did her chest and stomach feel warm at the sight of him?

  “I’ll leave you ladies to talk,” he said and backed away.

  Lynne watched him go, watched the sway of his back and shoulders as he marched down the line to their wagon. Other neighbors from their wagon train came to pay their respects to Callie throughout the afternoon, but Lynne had little attention for them. She was tied up in knots at the thought that she had misjudged Cade. Her uncle had trusted him to escort her across the prairie, after all. Perhaps he was more than just a handsome bully with a twinkle in his eye.

  As dusk began to settle and the line of people offering condolences to Callie trickled out, Mrs. Weingarten pulled a barrel in to close the circle where the ladies were sitting.

  “You have some tough choices ahead of you, my dear,” she told Callie.

  “I know,” Callie sighed. She looked as though she could use rest more than anything else.

  “You may not want to think about it right away,” Mrs. Weingarten went on, “but a young, single woman on a trail like this could find herself in danger.”

  Lynne’s mouth twitched with the urge to smirk. She’d heard that argument before.

  “Now, you don’t have protection, like Miss Tremaine does,” Mrs. Weingarten said. Lynne sat straighter. “But you should.”

  “I’m not sure it’s possible to hire an escort when we’re already two weeks out on the trail,” Lynne said. She wasn’t sure why the older woman’s comments made her feel itchy and self-conscious.

  Mrs. Weingarten shook her head. “Callie’s circumstances are quite different. You are fortunate to have family watching and waiting for you.” She turned to address Callie, who sat drooping on the crate beside Lynne, wringing the handkerchief. “Callie, I’m sorry to be blunt, but because you have no one left traveling with you and no one waiting at the end, I think you should consider marrying on the trail, immediately.”

  All three of the younger women looked up at Mrs. Weingarten with varying degrees of surprise and wonder.

  “Marrying?” Callie asked. “Right now?”

  Mrs. Weingarten sighed and nodded. “It seems sudden and drastic, I know, but there are quite a few single men on the trail who could provide you with protection while we journey and a life when we reach our destination.”

  No one said a word to her explanation. Callie stared at Mrs. Weingarten, her thoughts hidden behind her mask of grief. Lynne had to step in.

  “I can understand how it might seem like a good idea,” she began, “but a woman doesn’t have to have the help or protection of a man in order to make her living.”

  Another short silence followed.

  “Who would I choose?” Callie asked, subdued.

  Lynne’s jaw went slack. “Are you actually considering this?”

  Callie shrugged. “What choice do I have? I don’t know anything about being a pioneer. This was Greg’s dream.”

  Lynne closed her mouth and blinked. She told herself that she shouldn’t be shocked, that different people made different decisions. It was so far from the decision she would have made, though, that she could hardly fathom it.

  “Which single men among our company do you think might make a suitable husband?” Mrs. Weingarten asked.

  “Not the miners,” Callie answered right away.

  “Agreed,” Lynne said.

  They looked up and down the line of wagons and camps that had been set up for the night. There were easily over a hundred people in their train, at least a third of them single men. But more than half of those were miners on their way to strike it rich or die trying.

  “What about Reverend Joseph?” Mrs. Weingarten asked.

  They all turned to where the young reverend was sitting with the miners, probably preaching to them about their sins of gambling and drinking, although a bottle sat by his side.

  Callie shook her head. Lynne agreed.

  “Elton Finch?” Mrs. Weingarten offered.

  They twisted the other way to a small camp closer to the front of the train. Elton Finch was a tall, handsome man who was on his way west with his brother’s family.

  “Maybe,” Callie said.

  “There’s always Dr. Meyers,” Mrs. Weingarten said.

  Emma gasped, tensing like a sparrow about to take flight.

  The barest hint of a smile touched Callie’s lips. “I don’t think so.”

  Emma relaxed, letting out a breath and lowering her head, cheeks bright with blush.

  “How about that widower, John Rye?”

  Lynne searched down the length of the wagon train. She’d seen Mr. Rye once or twice. He was a quiet, ordinary man who had kept to himself since Independence. She’d heard his wife had died less than a year ago. He still dressed in black to mourn her.

  “Perhaps,” Callie said.

  Mrs. Weingarten nodded. “Of course, you could try Cade Lawson.”

  His name was like a fist in her gut. “Cade?” she asked.

  “Why not? He’s young, he’s easy to look at, and he doesn’t have a wife. At least not one that we know of,” Mrs. Weingarten said. “Does he?”

  “No, no he doesn’t.” Lynne twisted her fingers together in her lap. “I wouldn’t include him in your consideration, though.”

  Lynne was certain she saw Mrs. Weingarten’s eyes twinkle with mischief, although her expression remained as neutral as it could be.

  “And why not?” the older woman asked.

  “Why….” Lynne scrambled for an answer. “He’s stubborn as a mule, for one. He’s forever telling me to ride in the wagon or stay away from his horse. Well, he started saying that after I rode Arrow the other day. And he tried to keep me from walking with you when your brother was sick, Callie.”

  As soon as she let the accusation out, she felt guilty. He was looking out for her best interests, after all, and it didn’t feel right to put him down in front of the others.

  “He seems sensible enough,” Mrs. Weingarten argued. “And he does a good job of watching over you.”

  “That’s just it,” Lynne said. �
�He does too good a job. I can hardly settle my thoughts when he’s around, he’s so overbearing. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Why, I’ve even been dreaming of him, that’s how overpowering he is.”

  She frowned at her words. Something about them didn’t come out sounding the way she’d intended them to sound. Mrs. Weingarten was smiling fully now.

  “I don’t think I would consider Mr. Lawson,” Callie said.

  She didn’t give a reason, but Lynne was relieved all the same. That didn’t make any sense either. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. Her Papa may have had his concerns about the perils of this journey, but she doubted he would have foreseen the troubles she was actually having.

  “So Mr. Finch or Mr. Rye, then,” Mrs. Weingarten said.

  Callie nodded. “I’ll speak to them each in the next few days.”

  That was the end of the discussion. Night was falling quickly, so Lynne hugged her friends goodbye—promising that she would be by Callie’s side at a moment’s notice if she needed her—then marched back down the stopped line of wagons to where Cade and Ben had made a small camp beside her wagon. Ben was nowhere in sight.

  “Said he had a headache and went to bed early,” Cade explained when she asked about it.

  “I might turn in early tonight myself,” she said, and sat on a barrel by Cade’s side. Nothing felt right, like the unsettling calm before a storm.

  After a few moments, Cade said, “Is your friend going to be all right?”

  Lynne chewed her lip, picking at a small stain on her skirt. “Eventually. I hope so. Mrs. Weingarten has suggested she marry one of the single men in the wagon train.”

  “Is that so?”

  There was a shade too much humor in Cade’s voice. Lynne scolded him with a look.

  “It’s not something I would ever consider,” she said.

  “No, I expect not.” He didn’t even try to hide his smile. It flashed in the rose-hued light of sunset, sending an uncomfortably delicious shiver down Lynne’s spine.

  “I’m not sure I like your tone, Mr. Lawson,” she said to hide the giddiness of her reaction to his smile.

  “Cade,” he reminded her, taking a long drink of coffee from the tin cup he cradled.

  “So you’ve said.” She smoothed her skirt, then tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, whishing she didn’t find him so enticing when he teased her. “I could never marry a man that I hardly knew, but I think Callie just might.”

  Cade shrugged. “And why not? A woman needs a husband.”

  Lynne sent him a flat stare. “A woman does not need a husband.”

  “Sure she does.” He grinned. “Especially out on the trail like this. Things could get dangerous, and a woman can’t defend herself on her own.”

  “I hope I get a chance to prove you wrong on that account before this trip is over,” she shot back.

  “I hope you don’t,” he answered in all seriousness. Before she could argue on, he shifted to lean his elbows on his knees, relaxed. “There are plenty of other reasons a woman needs a husband too. Companionship, shared purpose… other things.” He winked.

  Butterflies swirled through her stomach and lower. She knew exactly what he meant by other things, and the wink was too much. “I don’t think my Papa or my uncle would be particularly pleased to hear you talking like that,” she said, a little too breathless.

  “What? Like I’m advocating in favor of marriage?” He grin was growing by leaps and bounds.

  “That’s not what you were talking about.” The evening seemed uncommonly hot all of a sudden.

  “Prove it,” he laughed. “Explain to me what I was talking about.”

  His teasing was so pointed that she couldn’t keep still on her barrel. She untied the ribbon holding her hat in place and began pulling the pins out of her hair so that she could braid it for the night.

  “Anyhow, I don’t see that Callie has many options for suitors in our wagon train.” She changed the subject, unwilling to let him continue talking about anything that would give him the upper hand.

  “There are plenty of men riding with us who would give their eye teeth to marry a pretty, young woman who’s just inherited all of her brother’s worldly possessions,” Cade insisted.

  “I believe that’s the problem,” Lynne replied, making a pile of hairpins in her lap. “She does not want to tie herself to a fortune hunter.”

  “And I suppose the three of you and Mrs. Weingarten went through the list of eligible bachelors and graded us all like ornery schoolteachers?”

  Lynne huffed and sent him a short scathing look. “Only a heartless bully compares a woman who has just lost her family and is on the precipice of making a life-changing decision to an ornery school-teacher.”

  Cade’s teasing grin dropped. “I’m sorry. You’re right. That wasn’t very nice of me.”

  She continued to study him with equal parts suspicion and curiosity. Was he really sorry?

  “So how did the deliberations go?” he asked.

  “She’s going to choose between Mr. Finch and Mr. Rye.” She kept her answer simple. It would have been too close to a betrayal to reveal more.

  “What, not me?” His disappointment was clearly feigned, but it left an odd burr sitting in Lynne’s chest nonetheless.

  “I told her you are far too opinionated and bullying for her,” she said, gathering the handful of hairpins in her lap and setting them and her hat on the barrel beside her.

  “Me? Opinionated?” His grin was back. “I’m wounded. What did I ever do to deserve such ill favor?”

  Lynne combed her fingers through her hair to get out the worst tangles as she thought about whether to answer. Cade was teasing her, she knew. He was trying to provoke her into another restless, pointless argument. He was also watching her every move, eyes aglow. As if he’d never seen a woman braid her hair before. Then again, maybe he hadn’t.

  “Why aren’t you married, Mr.—Cade?” Let him find a way to tease her with that.

  He shrugged, sipping at his coffee. “Never found the right woman, I suppose. Marriage is a serious business, not to be entered into lightly or with the wrong person. It’s forever, whether you’ve made the right choice or not. Best to consider who you want to spend the rest of your life with carefully instead of letting some foolish fancy make hard mistakes for you.”

  Lynne let out a breath. Blast him for giving her a sensible answer to a question meant to put him on the spot. It was downright…downright attractive.

  “And how about you?” He turned the question on her. “A fine, pretty lady like you with a judge for a father should be married to some society boy right about now, don’t you think?”

  An unexpected ripple of self-consciousness and disappointment hit her gut. She finished with her braid but had nothing to tie it with.

  “Most of the eligible ‘society boys,’ as you call them, who are my age are off fighting in the war.” Along with her brothers. She had to swallow the lump of worry that hit her throat.

  “You have a special fellow out there in the army?” Cade’s question was impertinent, but his voice was so soft and warm that somehow she wasn’t offended.

  “No,” she confessed, meeting his eyes, shoulders squared. “Not really. Those ‘society boys’ prefer meek, docile wives. I don’t qualify.”

  He chuckled. “No, you don’t.”

  Rather than open herself to the prickling gloom that thought brought with it, she held her head high. “It doesn’t bother me one bit. I would rather stand on my own two feet, by myself, than be dependent on a man, even if it means I die a spinster.”

  Of all things, Cade laughed. Lynne wasn’t sure if it was the sunset painting his face with shades of red or if he was flushed. “I have a hard time believing you will die a spinster, Lynne Tremaine.”

  She felt her own face color. “If that’s supposed to be an insult….”

  “Not at all.” Cade continued to chuckle. “Although I suppose it will take a brave man to c
limb up to the ivory tower you’ve set yourself in.”

  “Why, I never,” Lynne exclaimed. She let the end of her braid drop. “You are insulting me.”

  “Not really.” He pushed up from his elbows and leaned back on the barrel. “I don’t suppose you can help being a snob, really. Your father’s well-placed. I’d be willing to bet your mother comes from money.”

  “My mother passed away eight years ago,” Lynne told him. The old hurt was nothing more than a memory now.

  “Sorry to hear that.” His teasing ebbed.

  Lynne tried to make herself more comfortable on her barrel. She reached for the end of her braid, shaking the whole thing out and starting over from the beginning.

  “I’m not a snob,” she insisted. “If that’s what you’re implying.”

  “Is that what I said?” His eyes flashed with mischief.

  She pursed her lips and watched the fire instead of him. “I’m not. I can’t help how I was born any more than the next girl. I can’t help my independence either. Life has been full of twists and turns since I was a girl, and there’s only one right way to face that. It’s better to be independent and strong than….” She bit her lip and let her chin drop.

  Cade waited a moment. “Than?”

  Lynne focused on her braiding her hair, shoulders sagging. She didn’t know how to finish her own sentence. No, if she was being honest with herself, she did. It was better to be independent than to be afraid. Even thinking the word sent cold shivers through her gut. She had been afraid when they had left Lexington to move to St. Louis. She had been afraid when her mother fell ill, when she died. She was afraid for her brothers at war. And the Briscoe Boys?

  “No,” she said aloud, standing. “It’s better to be independent. That’s all.”

  She was brave. She was her Papa’s brave girl. Even if she wasn’t a little girl anymore.

  “I need to find something to tie my hair.” She made her excuse and left Cade grinning where he was.

  “You’ll make some man a fine wife one day,” he called after her.

  She made a show of huffing at his arrogance, but swirls of warmth flared in her stomach, sending tingles of longing all through her body. She covered them by moving a crate of supplies to serve as a step so she could climb into the wagon.