Runaway Cowgirl by Cheryl Dragon Page B

When Alice’s husband had died, it had taken very little time for the men to talk about the pretty young widow as though she were an abandoned gold claim ripe for mining.
    “Your father’s offer of work as your companion was a godsend.” Alice sat and took up her sewing. “His failing health and passing has kept the bachelors at bay. But now you’ve got no excuse. There are plenty of choices.”
    “I can take care of myself. I won’t be pressured into marriage.” Emily walked up to the front window and glanced through the lace. “A few are still out there.”
    “Fools. You might not want pressure, but men don’t always listen to women’s wishes,” Alice said softly.
    “They want my money. Women need the vote,” Emily said.
    “We do. We need a great many things, but if you agreed to a walk or picnic with a man or two, it’d look like you were open to the idea. You don’t need to rush into a wedding. Simply show your intention to settle down. Pick a suitor or two. It’ll put the others in their place.”
    “You are a clever woman.” Emily smiled and headed for the back of the house.
    “We have to be. Where are you going?” Alice asked.
    “Out for a bit. I can’t think now. I need a ride. Have lunch without me. I’ll eat later. I don’t need a chaperone for a quick ride in the woods.” Emily wanted time to think.
    “Very well. But don’t be too long or I’ll send a search party after you,” Alice called.
    Not bothering to change into the proper dress for riding, she headed to the barn where she rubbed the nose of her favorite horse. The ranch hand, one of the orphaned teens who she kept on as long as they went to school and church, rushed to saddle it. With his help, she hopped on and rode for freedom. The fact that the Bonner men were in the direction she headed was a happy accident.
    Maybe Denver would be better? With a brother-in-law around, men wouldn’t be swarming her. She enjoyed attending the theater and having endless stores to browse in, plus there were more charitable organizations to help.
    She still liked it better here. The quiet time to read and enjoy nature would never be possible in a big city. Also, it was much easier to know who truly sought and needed her help. Women were less likely to be taken advantage of when they knew people.
    Being near where her father had finally found success meant something as well, but she couldn’t describe it. Her life hadn’t always been so proper or laced with riches. In her heart, she had her father’s dreamer spirit. He’d wanted to find silver and gold. She wanted to help people and be free of the corset women had been saddled with. If her brother had survived the Civil War, he’d understand. He’d be here with her now and she’d be safe without a husband.
    The utter arrogance of the single men in town made her gallop the horse. There were plenty of whores in town, so why did the men have to bother her? They wanted her money—it was as simple as that. If love was involved, it would be a different story.
    Avoiding the main road, she came up on the Bonner ranch from behind. A big spread of horses and cattle showed they were successful. The house was large and sturdy but modest.
    They were cowboys to the core. Certainly not the most conventional men in town, but she wasn’t always traditional either. Her desire to get women the vote hadn’t gone over well. At least the Bonner men hadn’t mocked her like some had for wanting women’s suffrage. The handsome cousins kept to themselves, traded with the Indians when they could, and always helped anyone who needed it.
    True gentlemen, who made her feel beautiful and rare. She could never decide which of the two she liked better. Both triggered very unladylike reactions in her. Desire, lust and tingling were the best words she had.
    When she did her charity work with the prostitutes, she’d heard them discussing men in detail so she believed it was natural. Emily knew the marriage bed