few yards from his cowboys’ bunkhouse. The place seemed fairly deserted.
Thomas reined in his horse in front of the small cabin. He dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching post before helping Caroline down. Then he secured her horse.
Walking toward the cabin, he realized he barely knew Perry Quinn. Most of the time he stopped at this station only long enough to fill up his canteen and toss the mail bags onto a fresh mount. He didn’t even know if there was a Mrs. Quinn or not.
Reaching his hand up, he rapped a hearty knock on the door.
When there was no answer, Thomas opened the door. He motioned Caroline inside.
“Wait here.”
“Won’t whoever owns this cabin be upset that we’ve entered his house uninvited?” she asked, her eyes rounded with concern.
He bit back a frustrated sigh. “You’re in the West now. Men in these parts expect visitors to make themselves at home. That’s how we all survive.”
Her face revealed her hesitancy. He held a chair out for her and she finally sat at the table.
“Perry Quinn runs this place. He and his men are decent. If you come across any of them before I do, just explain why we’re here. I’ll be back.”
As he started to leave, her voice caught his attention again. “Where are you going?”
“To find Perry.”
He pulled the door shut behind him, effectively ending the conversation. She seemed set on questioning everything he did. It was getting old.
Untying his horse, he mounted it and rode out toward a herd of grazing cattle. He found Perry rather quickly.
“Was concerned when you didn’t show up yesterday,” Perry said. “Especially since the stage hasn’t shown up yet.”
“The stage won’t be coming. I’ve got the lone survivor with me.”
“Is he okay?”
“She’s fine.”
Perry’s eyes rounded. “You sure she ain’t been… hurt?”
“Positive. She’s been with me for the last two days. She’s at your cabin now. Name is Caroline Larson.”
Yanking back on his horse’s reins, Perry turned to look him in the eye. “Larson. She related to—”
“Adam Larson. Yes. He’s her brother.”
“Best go get her settled then.”
Chapter 12
Caroline looked around the small cabin. A bed stood against the wall in the far corner opposite from the table. A trunk rested at the foot of the bed. A dresser lined the wall next to the bed. A comfy chair watched the empty fireplace. The cabin had a few feminine touches. Curtains. Neatly organized pantry shelves. A few pretty things scattered on various surfaces. She wondered where Mrs. Quinn might be. She certainly made the small space feel cozy.
A brief knock sounded before a man entered the cabin, followed by Thomas. The man stopped abruptly.
“You forgot to mention she was young. And lovely.”
Thomas appeared suddenly nervous, turning his hat around in his hands. “Ah… Perry Quinn, meet Miss Caroline Larson.”
“A pleasure,” Perry said, reaching to take her hand. He placed a kiss on top.
The way Thomas described him, she expected Perry to be older—much older. Why he couldn’t be more than twenty-five years old! So tall, too. A good foot taller than Thomas and her. Something about him reminded her of Will Colter. Maybe it was his height.
“Mr. Quinn.” She smiled.
“None of that now. Perry will be just fine.”
“Perry then. Is your wife around? I would very much like to meet her.”
Sadness settled around his eyes before he quickly looked away. “She… um… She passed almost a year ago.”
Caroline bit the inside of her cheek, annoyed that her mouth got her in trouble again. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Perry cleared his throat and changed the subject. “You look like you might enjoy a chance to freshen up.”
He walked towards the trunk. “My wife’s things,” he said, opening the lid.
Thomas reined in his horse in front of the small cabin. He dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching post before helping Caroline down. Then he secured her horse.
Walking toward the cabin, he realized he barely knew Perry Quinn. Most of the time he stopped at this station only long enough to fill up his canteen and toss the mail bags onto a fresh mount. He didn’t even know if there was a Mrs. Quinn or not.
Reaching his hand up, he rapped a hearty knock on the door.
When there was no answer, Thomas opened the door. He motioned Caroline inside.
“Wait here.”
“Won’t whoever owns this cabin be upset that we’ve entered his house uninvited?” she asked, her eyes rounded with concern.
He bit back a frustrated sigh. “You’re in the West now. Men in these parts expect visitors to make themselves at home. That’s how we all survive.”
Her face revealed her hesitancy. He held a chair out for her and she finally sat at the table.
“Perry Quinn runs this place. He and his men are decent. If you come across any of them before I do, just explain why we’re here. I’ll be back.”
As he started to leave, her voice caught his attention again. “Where are you going?”
“To find Perry.”
He pulled the door shut behind him, effectively ending the conversation. She seemed set on questioning everything he did. It was getting old.
Untying his horse, he mounted it and rode out toward a herd of grazing cattle. He found Perry rather quickly.
“Was concerned when you didn’t show up yesterday,” Perry said. “Especially since the stage hasn’t shown up yet.”
“The stage won’t be coming. I’ve got the lone survivor with me.”
“Is he okay?”
“She’s fine.”
Perry’s eyes rounded. “You sure she ain’t been… hurt?”
“Positive. She’s been with me for the last two days. She’s at your cabin now. Name is Caroline Larson.”
Yanking back on his horse’s reins, Perry turned to look him in the eye. “Larson. She related to—”
“Adam Larson. Yes. He’s her brother.”
“Best go get her settled then.”
Chapter 12
Caroline looked around the small cabin. A bed stood against the wall in the far corner opposite from the table. A trunk rested at the foot of the bed. A dresser lined the wall next to the bed. A comfy chair watched the empty fireplace. The cabin had a few feminine touches. Curtains. Neatly organized pantry shelves. A few pretty things scattered on various surfaces. She wondered where Mrs. Quinn might be. She certainly made the small space feel cozy.
A brief knock sounded before a man entered the cabin, followed by Thomas. The man stopped abruptly.
“You forgot to mention she was young. And lovely.”
Thomas appeared suddenly nervous, turning his hat around in his hands. “Ah… Perry Quinn, meet Miss Caroline Larson.”
“A pleasure,” Perry said, reaching to take her hand. He placed a kiss on top.
The way Thomas described him, she expected Perry to be older—much older. Why he couldn’t be more than twenty-five years old! So tall, too. A good foot taller than Thomas and her. Something about him reminded her of Will Colter. Maybe it was his height.
“Mr. Quinn.” She smiled.
“None of that now. Perry will be just fine.”
“Perry then. Is your wife around? I would very much like to meet her.”
Sadness settled around his eyes before he quickly looked away. “She… um… She passed almost a year ago.”
Caroline bit the inside of her cheek, annoyed that her mouth got her in trouble again. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Perry cleared his throat and changed the subject. “You look like you might enjoy a chance to freshen up.”
He walked towards the trunk. “My wife’s things,” he said, opening the lid.