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sandwich of bacon and biscuits for both of them, she studied Davis Cooper under half closed eyelids. Even though stretched out, she noted his long frame, and powerful thighs. His strong jaw had a slight cleft in the center, below a pleasing face. Curly brown hair fell over his collar in the back, and dusted his broad forehead. The buttons of his brown wool shirt pulled tightly over a muscular chest, the bandages causing extra bulk. For the first time she wondered what his injuries were.
    Afraid of being caught staring, Emma shook her head, and continued to busy herself with the meal preparations.
    Davis closed his eyes briefly. “I’m sorry, ma’am, it was your husband that got killed by the horses, wasn’t it?” He again attempted to raise himself up on one elbow and succeeded.
    “Yes, Mr. Cooper, I am–was–Peter’s wife.” Tears welled in her eyes again. Before they could spill over, she moved away. “Now we better get us some food before the wagons start up again.”
    Joshua poked his head into the back of the wagon, and after conferring with her patient, helped him up and out of the wagon. Sweat beaded Davis’s forehead as he climbed out, his face riddled with pain. Emma placed her palms on her heated cheeks when she realized they were going off into the bushes. How was she ever going to continue this trip with a total stranger doing personal things practically in front of her eyes?
    The sound of female voices caught her attention. Sarah, with Stephen settled securely on her hip, walked alongside Elizabeth as they moved down the line, heading in Emma’s direction. The little boy rested his head on his mother’s shoulder, and slipped a small thumb into his rosebud mouth. Sarah slid the baby down and handed him a biscuit. They all settled on the soft grass alongside Emma’s wagon, the women tucking their skirts under them.
    “How are things going?” Sarah pulled Stephen toward her, and sat him on her lap. “Is Mr. Davis behaving himself?”
    “Mr. Cooper hasn’t done much of anything except sleep. It turns out his name is Davis Cooper, not Mr. Davis.” Pulling her knees up, she wrapped her arms around her legs, and leaning her chin on her knees, studied the women. “I don’t know if I can do this. After all, Mr. Cooper will be sleeping right above me, and he’s a stranger! I think Ezra needs to find somewhere else to put him.”
    “That’s probably not going to work.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Every other wagon is carrying more than one person, and loaded to the limit. I know because Jeb has been asking around. As much as I hate to say it, yours is the only wagon he can travel in.”
    Emma banged her fist on her upraised knee. “It’s not my fault my husband was killed! Why should I be made to take care of the man who wasn’t?”
    Sarah and Elizabeth quickly glanced down, suddenly interested in what little Stephen was doing.
    Noting their discomfort, she glanced over her shoulder to see Davis hanging onto Joshua, walking slowly as they returned from their visit to the bushes. Emma felt the heat rise once again to her face as she looked at Davis. But instead of appearing angry, he looked at Emma with sympathy.
    To cover her embarrassment, Emma stood and left the group for her own visit to the bushes. She grumbled all the way. She didn’t want that man’s sympathy. Truth be known, she wanted to hate him. Hate the fact that he was alive and Peter wasn’t.
    When Emma returned, Elizabeth and Sarah had left, and Joshua waited for her.
    “Ma’am, Ezra asked me to walk with y’all this afternoon to take some of the burden off you.” Joshua took hold of the oxen and added, “Why don’t y’all climb up into the wagon and ride for a bit this afternoon?”
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    They had barely begun to move when Davis felt the wagon dip with Emma’s entrance. He kept his eyes closed, trying to identify the sounds as she moved around, and eventually settled across from him.
    He opened his eyes and