Sahara Splendor by Charlotte Hubbard

Author:Charlotte Hubbard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Evan Marshall Agency
Published: 2016-01-14T05:00:00+00:00

They did, and the rain clouds cleared away to reveal a soft, star-speckled sky. The two keepers accepted their pay graciously and confirmed that the animals from the previous station had been transferred here while that keeper and his wife sought a doctor for their sick child.

“I’d keep movin’ if Fs you,” one burly man commented to Bean, “because the redskins love it after a shower. It means their rain dance worked, and there’ll be good grass for their ponies.”

No one cared to argue with his logic, so after the team was replaced, they started toward the stagecoach again. The freight wagons were just lumbering into the station, and McGee felt they’d soon catch up if he kept his horses at a prudent speed for the road conditions. “All aboard now,” he called out, waving at Oswald and Underwood.

Sahara was ready to follow Jenkins’s broad butt through the door when a hand closed on her shoulder. “Let’s take the roof,” Dan whispered.

His intentions sparkled in his dark eyes, and her mouth fell open. “But Bean and Fergus will—”

“They sit too low down to see anything.”

“—and we’ll be right over top of—”

“Who says we’re going to move around and make noise?” he teased. “Unless they climb up out of the windows, Roxanne and our reporter friend will have to assume we’re sitting on a bench behaving ourselves. Neither of them would dream we’d try anything on a moving coach. Right?”

She had no chance to protest, because Madigan was boosting her up over the luggage railing. Sahara gripped the center bench as they jerked into motion, and then she sat down hurriedly to wave at the station keepers. Their smiles were evident by the light from their lanterns.

“You are shameless!” she hissed. “It’s your fault everyone knows we’re—”

“Is it? Do they hear my groans and panting?” he teased. He slid over beside her and slipped an arm around her waist, hungry for the taste of her. But she wriggled free.

“What if we fall off?” she demanded hoarsely. “What if we’re attacked, and the Indians—”

“Trust me.”

“Of all the—” Sahara wanted to glare at him, but his idea was taking hold all over her body despite her mind’s objections to the dangers and improprieties involved. “Last time you said that, I ended up married to Horatio Spade!”

“And I was right there on his balcony, poised to shoot him, wasn’t 1?” he said urgently. She was giving in. Her eyes were wide, glimmering pools, and she was gripping his upper arms with hands that shook slightly—and not from fear, because Sahara Spade didn’t know the meaning of that word.

“You wouldn’t have! Not with Jennifer and the wedding guests—”

“I would’ve killed him and been hung for it before I let that old goat have you, Sahara,” he insisted. “Surely by now you realize how much I love you.”

His deep, tender words melted some of the starch out of her argument. “But that was before—we barely knew each other.”

“I knew I’d be a fool to let another man have you,” he stated.

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