The Trail Master's Bride by Maddie Taylor Page B

flat belly to the treasure that lay between her thighs.
    A throat cleared. His head came up. Unsure if it was Jacobs or Jamison who had interrupted his lurid daydream, in either case, he was grateful. Any further thoughts that ended between Mina’s naked thighs would have had him bursting the buttons of his breeches and embarrassing himself. Feeling a bit warm, he pulled off his hat and finger-combed his damp hair back off his forehead.
    Jacobs moved toward him. Softly, he spoke for Weston’s ears only. “I’ll do it, man, unless someone else steps up and claims her. A younger man who’s had his eyes full of her since she joined the train in Independence would be best.”
    He scowled at the older man. Ben was right, and the fact that he’d noticed, burned his dignity more than anything. Setting pride aside, he pondered his future plans at the end of the trail: building on his land, living in a house, not from a wagon or in a saddle, and finding a wife to start a family. There was no reason Mina couldn’t be that wife and help him achieve his goals. It would take considerable work on his part, and patience. As the image of her pink nipples hard and eager for his mouth came to mind, he figured that alone might be reward enough for his efforts.
    “Dad-burned wily old man,” he grumbled, slamming his Stetson back into place. “I’ll go fetch her.” As he pushed by the reverend, he added. “We’ve got fifteen minutes, Jamison. So don’t think about getting long-winded. We’ve had enough delays on this train as it is.”
     
    * * *
     
    Having washed and stowed the lunch dishes, Mina was busily doing as Weston had instructed, tying down anything loose inside the wagon in preparation for their ride through Mitchell’s Pass. Not an easy task since they had combined two wagons into one and most everything of hers was hanging from hooks inside. She was outside bundling supplies in a blanket that she was tying with rope, when he approached.
    Used to the sound of his boots with his long-legged stride, she glanced up, her lips tilting into a hesitant smile of greeting. Seeing the glower on his face, she froze. Leaning back on her heels, she waited, steeling herself for more bad news. There had been nothing else on this miserable journey.
    “Finish up quick, Mina. We need to meet with the preacher before we get going.”
    Puzzled, her mouth fell open, then shut just as quickly. She couldn’t imagine why they needed to meet with Reverend Jamison.
    “Whatever for?” she asked.
    “We’re getting married.” He threw the answer over his shoulder as he climbed up in the wagon and began rifling through one of his storage trunks.
    Mina could only stare after him. Surely she’d misheard.
    “What?” she squeaked.
    “Now where did I—?” came his muffled response from inside the wagon. Not thinking it was aimed toward her, she was silent, waiting for him to come out and explain. “Ah, ha! Here it is.” He was jumping down the next instant while tucking something in his pocket. Seeing her in the same position, he frowned. “C’mon, darlin’. We’re burning daylight.”
    She looked on without moving a muscle as he finished tying the bundle and tossed it easily into the wagon bed. He clasped her upper arm firmly and drew her to her feet, immediately guiding her toward the Jamisons’ wagon. Only then did she regain the ability to move, which she did decisively by digging in her heels.
    “Wait!” she protested. “What did you say?”
    His neck twisted and he looked down at her, his brows drawn together, his fingers not giving an inch. “Which part?”
    “The part where you said we’re getting married. Surely I heard you wrong.”
    “Nope, your hearing is dead on. Let’s go.”
    But she didn’t go, pulling her arm free and backing up a few steps. “I don’t understand.”
    He turned to face her, hands on his hips, his head tipped way back as he gazed skyward for a moment and drew in a breath. For patience, she