The Promised Land (Destiny's Dreamers Book 2) by Kathleen Karr

rum and heat. And not just the heat of the day. Warning bells went off in her brain. Maggie took a stumbling step backwards.
    His hand shot out to steady her. “What is a woman like you doing on this journey? You belong in different, finer places.’’
    “I could ask the same of yourself,’’ she spat back as she loosed her arm from his grip. “We have predators enough already.’’
    He laughed, and the sound was hard and sharp.
    “You would make a fine addition to my collection, my dear. My collection of precious things. I will leave you now, as duty calls. But I will return for you when the moment is ripe.’’
    Flabbergasted, Maggie could think of no retort. She only watched as Gentry returned to his own territory.
    That evening before dinner Maggie was dutifully reporting most of what had occurred during her noon meeting with Gentry to her husband when Jamie appeared with a smirk on his face and strawberry jam on his cheeks. She stopped in mid sentence and frowned.
    “Have you been begging sweets from the other train?’’
    “No, ma’am. I never would beg.’’ He grinned to himself. Standing around looking hungry and hopeful wasn’t the same as outright begging, no way. Besides, those people had so much of everything. It seemed a shame not to help share it.
    “Where did you get the jam, then, young man?’’
    “Answer your mother, boy!’’
    Jamie’s eyes skittered nervously to his father. He was still in a pretty bad way. Looked like trouble for sure. Jamie tried to remember the jam’s sweetness for one more forbidden second.
    “Mr. Gentry. He was ever so polite about it. I didn’t ask for it at all, truly! I was just walking around admiring his horses and he comes up to me with this huge jar of jam and a spoon. He fills that spoon up right full and hands it to me, then starts in asking questions.’’
    Johnny felt for his bruised cheek. “What kind of questions, Jamie?’’
    The boy stretched his tongue out as far as it would reach to get to some more of that leftover jam. “Oh, nothing special. Just about your printing trade, and wherever had we got such a fine press? Stuff like that.’’
    “And what did you tell him?’’ Johnny’s voice was too calm, like the summer prairie just before a thunder storm.
    “I told him to ask my Pa, and the stinker pulls back the spoon afore I could dig in after some more!’’
    “Jamie! Watch your tongue!’’
    Jamie looked at his mother. He judged she wasn’t really that angry. Then he looked at his father. Pa had let out his pent up breath and was smiling. For the first time that day, as near as Jamie could remember.
    “You did well, son. Now go off and play till dinner. But try to keep some distance between yourself and the Donner people. They’re not our kind of folks. Understand?’’
    “Yes, sir. I guess so. Our kind of folks would leave out the jam if they had enough, like he did.’’
    For once Maggie and Johnny were in agreement when Johnny commented softly, “ Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.’’

TEN
    Johnny recovered from his hangover. His face began to look as if it might regain its former shape again. But he hadn’t slept with his wife in days. Even if he’d agreed in theory that the Donner people were not their kind of folks , he seemed to feel duty bound to give his aid and assistance to that poor struggling widow, Annabelle Lorcum. The fact that she had a perfectly competent hired drover to assist her did not seem to register on either the woman or Johnny.
    Johnny could not quite explain the phenomenon himself. Something kept drawing him in the Donner Party’s direction. He told himself he was doing exploratory investigations into Gentry’s background. But all he could learn was that the man was a competent gambler and sharpshooter, and that he had travelled extensively in Europe and the States before choosing the path West. If Johnny generally ended up near Annabelle’s wagon, if he chose to accept one of