Stagecoach Bride by Darlene Mindrup

Author:Darlene Mindrup
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Using dry wood from the surrounding forest, Adam quickly prepared a fire to stave off the cold temperatures, which were steadily dropping as the sun began to set in a glorious display of vivid red, orange and purple.

It would be several hours before Macy would return with another coach. In the meantime, they could take the opportunity of the unexpected delay to get some much-needed rest.

Outside the confines of the stage, the cold would be more apparent, yet none of the passengers seemed inclined to reenter the tilted vehicle despite the fact the canvas drapes would lessen the effects of the wind. The chill February zephyr was lessened by the surrounding forest, but as the darkness increased, so would the effects of the dropping temperatures.

Adam made a note of the accident in the logbook, glancing up when he heard raised voices.

The fringe on Amanda’s buckskin jacket was flying about violently as she gesticulated at the driver, her face etched with ire, and puffs of frost forming with each blistering mouthful. Hollis stood resolute before her, hands planted firmly on his hips, his dark countenance warning of an imminent explosion. The passengers were standing nearby, witnessing the tense exchange. What was that all about?

He strode over and interrupted their heated conversation.

“What’s going on here?”

Amanda turned blazing plum-colored eyes to his. “I was just telling Mr. Hollis here that he will not be driving the rest of the trip to Blackburn station.”

“And I was telling this young whippersnapper that he can’t tell me what to do!”

Adam’s narrow-eyed gaze settled on the man, and Hollis’s face changed from anger to wariness at Adam’s look. “Actually, she can,” he told the man, stressing the feminine gender. “She is the conductor, and as conductor, she has complete authority over you.”

The man stared at Amanda in surprise, his look going slowly from the top of her head to the toes of her moccasins.

“She?” he asked in amazement.

Hollis stood openmouthed, not knowing how to respond. His brows beetled downward, and he glared at Amanda.

“I ain’t takin’ no orders from a woman!”

Adam was about to step in when he caught Amanda’s warning look. She was right. If he interceded it would just diminish her authority. He tensed as Amanda stepped forward to stand toe-to-toe with the driver. Although Amanda was fairly short, Hollis wasn’t much taller, but he was from that rough-and-ready breed known as a frontiersman. The Butterfield chose men like these because of their ability to survive in harsh conditions, and they were not a type of man to be messed with. Amanda and Hollis glared into each other’s eyes.

“Then you are fired,” she told him, her voice laced with steel.

His eyes widened. “You cain’t fire me!”

“Actually, she can,” Adam disagreed. “The conductor is responsible for the stage and its occupants. If he, or she, feels you are a danger to either, she has the authority to fire you.” His look let the man know that although he didn’t say anything, he was there to back her up.

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