“What do I do?”
The question stunned everyone.
Cole Hayes never asked that.
Abigail answered.
“Meet my mother.”
“Where?”
“Missoula.”
“How far?”
“Two days by coach in good weather.”
Cole looked toward the rain.
“Then we leave at dawn.”
Abigail blinked.
“We?”
“Yes.”
“You are ordering me?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Cole stared.
Abigail folded her arms.
“You can ask.”
His expression changed.
Even now.
Especially now.
She would not let him turn gratitude into control.
Cole exhaled.
“Will you come with me?”
Abigail smiled softly.
“Yes.”
He looked toward her companion.
“And you?”
The companion sighed.
“Apparently.”
Cole almost smiled.
The ranch moved before sunrise.
Not the whole operation.
Only Cole’s private carriage.
Four horses.
Driver.
Two ranch guards.
Abigail.
Her companion.
Cole.
The photograph remained inside Cole’s coat against his chest.
The journey took nearly two days.
Rain became mist.
Mist became clear mountain air.
Cole barely spoke.
Abigail sat opposite him in the carriage.
Her body occupied most of the reinforced seat.
Cole had ordered the carriage modified overnight.
Extra support beneath the bench.
A wider step.
Two ranch hands quietly strengthened the suspension.
Abigail discovered it at dawn.
She looked at him.
“You did this?”
Cole stared out the window.
“The carriage needed work.”
“Liar.”
He almost smiled.
“You wouldn’t fit comfortably.”
“I have traveled before.”
“Not in my carriage.”
Something about the answer warmed her.
Then irritated her.
“You solve everything with money.”
“Most things.”
“Not everything.”
His eyes moved toward her.
“I know.”
The warmth disappeared into something deeper.
Abigail looked away.
Hours passed.
At midday, the carriage stopped near a river.
Cole helped Abigail down.
Not by pulling.
He offered his hand.
Waited.
She accepted.
Her considerable weight shifted carefully.
Cole braced himself without making the movement seem difficult.
When both her feet reached the ground, their hands remained joined.
Abigail noticed.
“So.”
Cole looked at her.
“So?”
“You kissed me yesterday.”
His eyebrow rose.
“This is when you choose to discuss that?”
“You’ve been silent twelve hours.”
“I’m thinking about my daughter.”
“I know.”
She squeezed his hand gently.
“That doesn’t erase yesterday.”
Cole looked toward the river.
“No.”
“Do you regret it?”
He returned his eyes to her.
“No.”
Abigail smiled.
“Good.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
Cole moved slightly closer.
“Dangerous answer.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve been trying not to kiss you again since we left.”
Her cheeks warmed.
“Your daughter.”
“I can think about more than one thing.”
“Impressive.”
He smiled.
Abigail leaned closer.
“Then kiss me.”
Cole looked around.
The driver was pretending to inspect a wheel.
The companion had very intentionally wandered toward a tree.
Cole touched Abigail’s cheek.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”