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“You’re a good judge of horseflesh,”
she said.
“I like to think I’m a good
judge of people, too.” There was conviction in his voice and a
fair amount of self-importance. She didn’t hold such notions against
him. The territory wasn’t a place for the timid.
“Let’s take your stock down
by the river. They can fill their bellies with sweet grass.” She
gave him a flirtatious smile.
They rounded up the mares and Harley set
halters on them. She led a pretty dun colored mare and he led the two
others. When they reached the bank of the river, they staked the horses
in a patch of wild grass.
The temperature was cooler down by the
river and Harley seemed to have gotten himself under control.
Harley gaze followed the rushing river
and he looked gloomy. She hadn’t pegged him a thinking man, but
he brooded as they sat under a tree.
“I like your ma,” she said,
fumbling for words to take away his troubles.
“She’s had a hard time since
my dad passed.”
“She sure is proud of you. I can
tell.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Do
you think so?”
“Know so.”
He broke out in a grin.
Dory was tickled she’d been able
to help change his mood.
He leaned closer. He did have amazing
eyes that showed kindness.
“Would it be alright if I kissed
you?” he asked.
Dory’s heart beat wildly. She drew
in a quick breath. She’d no experience with the rightness or wrongness
of letting him kiss her. She only knew she wanted him to.
She closed her eyes and tilted her head
upwards. His rough hand rested on her cheeks.
“You smell so good,” he said.
“Sweet, like spring water.”
She opened one eye. “Are you gonna
kiss me or talk?”
Without further encouragement, he pressed
his mouth on hers.
Dory felt the heat rising in her face.
The moment was exquisite in its simplicity. It was over too soon.
She took a deep breath and composed herself.
It was foolishness letting a boy kiss her. Nothing could come of it,
and it’d be wrong to pretend otherwise. She and Ma would be on
their way as soon as the next wagon train came through.
When he leaned in for a second try, she
prevented him with an outstretched hand.
“Aw come on, Dory.”
“I can’t let you.”
“Why not?”
“I think we ought to behave ourselves,”
she said, primly. “We may be alike in some things, but the differences
are what keep us from carrying on.”
“It’s only an itty, bitty
kiss.” He looked at her with that silly grin plastered to his
face. He found her objections amusing, Dory could plainly see.
“Ma will be wondering where I am,”
she said, scrambling to her feet. She brushed off her dress and retied
her bonnet.
He got up and stood over her like some
big gawking bird. “You sure are a pretty little thing.”
It was an awkward compliment, but Dory accepted its sincerity. “Thank
you.”
“And I mean to court you,”
he said with confidence.
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