performing the arithmetic again and again in her mind.
Shock glazed her blue eyes. She had thirty-five dollars to see her through five months and two thousand miles. "Oops." Mem Grant caught Augusta's arm as they collided near the store's entry. When Augusta didn't apologize, Mem did, speaking in a cool voice. "I beg your pardon. I fear I wasn't paying attention."
Augusta acknowledged the apology with a distracted nod, then turned toward a voice speaking above her hat.
"Good afternoon, ladies."
Both women looked up at Webb Coate as he tipped his hat and smiled. Augusta caught a breath and felt Mem do the same. She had an impression of flowing dark hair, lustrous black eyes, and white, white teeth in a darkly bronzed face. A warm shiver skittered toward her toes.
Webb's gaze skimmed her ornate bonnet and the gauze tied beneath her chin. "I'd suggest that you ladies buy the widest-brimmed hats you can find. We'll be into hot weather soon."
"Dry warm weather can't come soon enough for me." Mem lifted her damp skirts and laughed at the mud pasting the folds together. "A little sunshine sounds like a boon from heaven."
Webb smiled, seeming to notice Mem for the first time.
"If you aren't carrying lip salve, it would be wise to buy some while you can. Wind and that sunshine you're so eager to see can wreak havoc on a pale complexion."
Augusta gasped. She could not believe her ears. Quivering with indignation, she drew to her full height. "Your advice is neither wanted nor welcome," she snapped, letting her eyes go frosty with offense. "Should you make intimate remarks in the future, we will complain to Mr. Snow!"
Webb stared at her and something dark and challenging gleamed in his black eyes. Then he touched his fingertips to his hat brim, nodded, and stepped off the boardwalk. He crossed the square toward the saddle shop where Cody waited.
The instant he turned his back, Mem's fingers dug into Augusta's arm. "You are the rudest, most self-inflated woman I have ever had the misfortune to encounter!"
"I beg your pardon! That half-breed mentioned our lips and our complexions! Such personal remarks are not to be tolerated from a white man, let alone an Indian!"
Mem leaned down until her eyes reached a level with Augusta's. "Don't evernot ever again!include me in anything you say. Don't presume to say 'we.' You speak solely for yourself, Miss Boyd. You do not speak for Mem Grant!"
"Well!"
Thoroughly angry and offended, Augusta watched Mem stride down the boardwalk with a face so stormy that even hardened soldiers hastened to scurry out of her path.
"Well!" she said again, lifting her chin. It was certainly evident which sister had the breeding in that family.
As if her thoughts had conjured reality, Bootie came rushing out of the store, halted in a swirl of skirts, and inspected a cameo watch pinned to an imitation cashmere shawl.
"Oh, dear. I'm going to be late for Perrin's meeting. Mem will be furious." She looked up and saw Augusta watching with a cool expression. "Have you seen my sister?"
Silently, Augusta nodded toward Mem's retreating figure.
Bootie took a few steps in pursuit, then halted. "Aren't you coming? The meeting is scheduled to begin in a few minutes."
Augusta tossed her head, feeling her blond curls give a satisfying bounce against the top of her shoulders. "That creature has nothing to say that I choose to hear. I can't imagine you would respond to her summons either. Perhaps you would prefer to return inside with me?"
An agony of indecision pinched Bootie's expression. She gazed toward Mem, who had reached the end of the boardwalk, and high color flooded her cheeks.
"Id like to, I really would, but well, Mem made me promise that I'd attend Mrs. Waverly's meeting, and" she shrugged helplessly. "Any other time but I"
Augusta released her with an impatient flick of her fingertips. "Run along, then," she said coldly. She watched Bootie hurry along the muddy boardwalk, taking Augusta's hopes with
Shock glazed her blue eyes. She had thirty-five dollars to see her through five months and two thousand miles. "Oops." Mem Grant caught Augusta's arm as they collided near the store's entry. When Augusta didn't apologize, Mem did, speaking in a cool voice. "I beg your pardon. I fear I wasn't paying attention."
Augusta acknowledged the apology with a distracted nod, then turned toward a voice speaking above her hat.
"Good afternoon, ladies."
Both women looked up at Webb Coate as he tipped his hat and smiled. Augusta caught a breath and felt Mem do the same. She had an impression of flowing dark hair, lustrous black eyes, and white, white teeth in a darkly bronzed face. A warm shiver skittered toward her toes.
Webb's gaze skimmed her ornate bonnet and the gauze tied beneath her chin. "I'd suggest that you ladies buy the widest-brimmed hats you can find. We'll be into hot weather soon."
"Dry warm weather can't come soon enough for me." Mem lifted her damp skirts and laughed at the mud pasting the folds together. "A little sunshine sounds like a boon from heaven."
Webb smiled, seeming to notice Mem for the first time.
"If you aren't carrying lip salve, it would be wise to buy some while you can. Wind and that sunshine you're so eager to see can wreak havoc on a pale complexion."
Augusta gasped. She could not believe her ears. Quivering with indignation, she drew to her full height. "Your advice is neither wanted nor welcome," she snapped, letting her eyes go frosty with offense. "Should you make intimate remarks in the future, we will complain to Mr. Snow!"
Webb stared at her and something dark and challenging gleamed in his black eyes. Then he touched his fingertips to his hat brim, nodded, and stepped off the boardwalk. He crossed the square toward the saddle shop where Cody waited.
The instant he turned his back, Mem's fingers dug into Augusta's arm. "You are the rudest, most self-inflated woman I have ever had the misfortune to encounter!"
"I beg your pardon! That half-breed mentioned our lips and our complexions! Such personal remarks are not to be tolerated from a white man, let alone an Indian!"
Mem leaned down until her eyes reached a level with Augusta's. "Don't evernot ever again!include me in anything you say. Don't presume to say 'we.' You speak solely for yourself, Miss Boyd. You do not speak for Mem Grant!"
"Well!"
Thoroughly angry and offended, Augusta watched Mem stride down the boardwalk with a face so stormy that even hardened soldiers hastened to scurry out of her path.
"Well!" she said again, lifting her chin. It was certainly evident which sister had the breeding in that family.
As if her thoughts had conjured reality, Bootie came rushing out of the store, halted in a swirl of skirts, and inspected a cameo watch pinned to an imitation cashmere shawl.
"Oh, dear. I'm going to be late for Perrin's meeting. Mem will be furious." She looked up and saw Augusta watching with a cool expression. "Have you seen my sister?"
Silently, Augusta nodded toward Mem's retreating figure.
Bootie took a few steps in pursuit, then halted. "Aren't you coming? The meeting is scheduled to begin in a few minutes."
Augusta tossed her head, feeling her blond curls give a satisfying bounce against the top of her shoulders. "That creature has nothing to say that I choose to hear. I can't imagine you would respond to her summons either. Perhaps you would prefer to return inside with me?"
An agony of indecision pinched Bootie's expression. She gazed toward Mem, who had reached the end of the boardwalk, and high color flooded her cheeks.
"Id like to, I really would, but well, Mem made me promise that I'd attend Mrs. Waverly's meeting, and" she shrugged helplessly. "Any other time but I"
Augusta released her with an impatient flick of her fingertips. "Run along, then," she said coldly. She watched Bootie hurry along the muddy boardwalk, taking Augusta's hopes with
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