you breakfast?"
"I'd like to, but I've got some things to see to." He touched her again, just a fingertip to the single wispy curl that had escaped from the neat bun on top of her head. "Sarah, will you let me have Matt's journal?" Both the grief and the dread showed clearly in her eyes before she lowered them. During the night, after love and before sleep, she had thought of little else but what Jake had told her. Part of her wondered if she would be better off not knowing, not being sure.
But another part, the same part that had kept her from turning back and going east again, had already accepted what needed to be done.
"Yes." She walked to the hearth to work the rock loose. "I found this the first night. His journal, what must have been his savings, and the deed to Sarah's Pride."
When she held the book out to him, Jake resisted the urge to open it there and then. If he found what he thought he would find, he would have business to take care of before he said anything else to her. "I'll take it along with me, if it's all the same to you." She opened her mouth to object, wanting the matter settled once and for all. But he'd asked for her trust. Perhaps this was the way to show him he had it. "All right."
"And the deed? Will you let me hold on to it until we have some answers?"
In answer, she offered it to him, without hesitation, without question. For a moment they held the deed, and the dream, between them. "Just like that?" he murmured.
"Yes." She smiled and released her hold. "Just like that."
That her trust was so easily given, so total in her eyes, left him groping for words. "Sarah, I want..." What? he wondered as he stared down at her. To guard and protect, to love and possess? She was like something cool and sweet that had poured into him and washed away years of bitter thirst. But he didn't have the words, he thought. And he didn't have the right. "I'll take care of this."
She lifted a brow. There had been something else, something in his eyes. She wanted it back, so that she could see it, understand it. "I thought we were going to take care of it."
"No." He cupped her chin in his hand. "You're going to leave this to me. I don't want anything to happen to you."
Her brow was still lifted as her lips curved.
"Why?"
"Because I don't. I want you to-" Whatever he might have said was postponed. He moved to the window quickly. "You've got company coming." As he spotted the buggy, his shoulders relaxed. "Looks like Mrs. Cody and her girl."
"Oh." Sarah's hands shot up automatically to straighten her hair. "I must look-Oh, how would I know? I haven't had a chance to so much as glance in the mirror."
"Wouldn't matter much." Without glancing back, he pulled open the door. "Too bad you're so homely." Muttering, she pulled off her apron and followed him outside. Then memory came flooding back and had her biting her Up. "I imagine they would have heard all about the, ah, incident yesterday."
"I expect." Jake secured the deed and the journal in the saddlebags that he'd tossed over the rail. "You needn't look so amused." She fiddled nervously with the cameo at her throat, then put on her brightest smile. "Good morning, Mrs. Cody. Liza." "Good morning, Sarah." Anne Cody brought the horses to a stop. "I hope you don't mind an early call."
"Not at all." But her fingers were busy pleating her skirt. She was afraid there was a lecture coming. The good sisters had given Sarah more than what she considered her share over the past twelve years. "I'm always delighted to see you," she added. "Both of you."
Anne glanced over at the dog, who'd run out to bark at the horses. "My, he's grown some, hasn't he?" She held out a hand. "Mr. Redman?"
Jake stepped over to help her, then Liza, down, remaining silent until he'd slung his saddlebags over his shoulder. "I'd best be on my way." He touched a hand to his hat. "Ladies."
"Mr. Redman." Anne held up a hand in the gesture she used to stop her children from rushing out before their chores were finished. "Might I have a word with you?"
He shifted his bags until their weight fell evenly.
"Yes, ma'am."
"My son John has been dogging your