Separate Roads by Tracie Peterson, Judith Pella

Brenton. Jordana was naïve. She couldn’t see the problems that lay in store for her future.
    She spoke openly and commonly with men as though it were the most natural thing in the world. And if truth be told, Brenton figured her to prefer their company over that of her own gender. He’d tried to talk to her about the impropriety of it, but Jordana had defended herself, saying that here in the West there was no time or place for eastern etiquette. He knew that was true to a degree. Women had to work hard to exist in this harsh land. There were few comforts and often the necessities were just as absent, but he hated seeing Jordana lose the gentility that their parents had worked so hard to instill in her.
    He sighed heavily and moved toward the house. Life in Omaha was rapidly losing its charm. He had given great consideration to returning to New York, but with the war continuing to drag on, he feared someone might try to force him into service for the Union, and then he’d be left having to explain not only to them but to his parents how he had been forced to sign a letter of agreement refusing to bear arms against the South. No, the smarter thing would be to get Caitlan on to California.
    He reached the tiny porch and stopped. Caitlan was a whole different issue, and one that was also getting completely out of hand. Brenton could hardly bear to live under the same roof with her anymore. Not because it brought him any displeasure, but because he felt the situation was becoming quite inappropriate. When they had first begun their travels, they had merely been brother- and sister-in-law. It was innocent, and no one thought anything improper about their keeping company. But that was before Brenton realized he’d fallen in love with the woman. Now, seeing her late into the evening, then upon rising first thing in the morning, as well as any other time that they were all gathered in the house together, Brenton had begun to think of her not as a sister but as a desirable woman. The stress of it all was beginning to severely alter his personality, and often Jordana chided him for being moody or out of sorts.
    And he was.
    Shaking his head, he knew the matter wasn’t going to resolve itself while he stood there reviewing the past. Reaching for the door, he braced himself for the angry woman, possibly women, he would find inside.
    Sure enough, Jordana paced in front of the fireplace like a lioness about to pounce on her prey. “How dare you embarrass me like that!”
    Caitlan stepped between Jordana and Brenton. “Ya’d do better to calm down before takin’ up this fight.”
    Brenton held up his hand as if to silence them both. “I was worried about you.”
    “It doesn’t matter. You treat me like I’m a child,” Jordana declared, coming across the small room. “I don’t care what you think. You are not my boss. I will make my own choices, in my own time, and it doesn’t mean I have to consult you just because you’re older.” She pushed past the now silent Caitlan and came to stand directly in front of Brenton. “I don’t need a guardian.”
    “Mother and Father put you in my care,” he said simply. Brief and to the point was the best way to argue matters with Jordana. Her mind usually worked logically, but this time her emotions were overwhelming her senses.
    “I’ve told you before, just as I told them, I don’t desire to be under anyone’s care. I’m fully capable of caring for myself. I think I’ve proven that by taking on a job that pays better than anything you’ve been able to earn.” She instantly clamped her hands over her mouth.
    Brenton knew she regretted her words, but they hurt just the same. She was right. He’d been unable to supply them with any form of steady income. His dreams of photographing the country had been put aside in order to find a way to earn them money to move further west, and every time they began to see the possibility of continuing their trip, something came up to put