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But the spitfire could make him angrier than anyone he’d ever known. Her stubbornness, her standoffish ways, had gotten to him.
    Maybe that was what startled him tonight when she’d awakened him from a sound sleep and begged him to take her to Wyoming. Wyoming! Was she that desperate or just plain crazy? The old prospector proposing in front of half the town must have really shaken her.
    Of course, he couldn’t even think of taking her with him. Any day the deep snows would come, and Dylan would be lucky to survive the elements himself. He couldn’t take on the responsibility of a woman even if he did see Ruth’s point. What woman would take to the notion of marrying a man nearly five times her age? He cast a sideways glance at Ruth. Not this woman.
    Jackson’s hands came to his slim hips. “I thought you were leaving at sunup.”
    “I plan to.” In just a few hours Dylan would ride out of here and out of Ruth’s life. Maybe.
    Jackson paced the floor, turning to cast looks over his shoulder. “Care to tell me what this is all about?”
    “He—,” Ruth began.
    “She—,” Dylan started.
    “One at a time!”
    Glory sat with her hands over her mouth. Dylan couldn’t tell if she was appalled, amazed, or trying not to laugh.
    “This crazy woman knocked on my door fifteen minutes ago and demanded that I take her with me to Wyoming!”
    “I didn’t demand ,” Ruth retorted. “I asked.”
    “Sounded like demanding to me. Seems a prospector that’s old enough to be her grandpa proposed to her tonight after you and Glory left—”
    “Proposed?” Glory sat up on her knees. “Honest, Ruth? A man proposed to you? You’re getting married?”
    “Not really,” Ruth said. “The prospector proposed, but I didn’t accept.”
    “But Oscar still doesn’t know that,” Dylan said, shooting a cold look at Ruth.
    Jackson focused on Ruth. “Ruth? Are you certain you don’t want to think about this? I don’t know the man, but I could do some checking—”
    “No,” Ruth stated flatly, “I will not marry that old man. I’m going to Wyoming instead and find my cousin Milford.”
    When Jackson frowned, Dylan added, “She says she remembers a cousin or something in Wyoming. This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
    Ruth’s chin lifted. “There was no need.”
    “She says she’ll do anything if I’d take her with me to find this ‘cousin.’”
    “Not anything !” Ruth snapped. “I said I’d cook and wash your clothes and that’s more than sufficient payment. And I do have a cousin Milford in Wyoming.”
    “Wyoming’s a big place. Do you have this man’s address?”
    She shrugged. “Not with me.”
    Dylan was a lawman, not a chaperone. Marshalling wasn’t the safest profession, and he had to travel fast. A woman would slow him down. He ate out of a can most nights. A woman wanted dishes; all he had were two tin cups. He jumped into a stream to bathe when it was convenient and let cleanliness go when it wasn’t. A woman had soaps and lotions and all sorts of pretty clothes and things. A woman—
    Well, a woman on the trail wasn’t his idea of heaven on earth. Not even a woman like Ruth. She’d done well enough in the wagon with the other women to help on the journey from Westport, but traveling on horseback was a different matter . . . a whole different matter.
    Ruth looked over at Dylan and silently mouthed, “I would rather marry a goat than depend on you to take me anywhere.”
    He shrugged. “Then marry Oscar.”
    “Hold it.” Jackson stopped Ruth’s ready retort. “Ruth, even if Dylan was inclined to take you with him—”
    “Which I’m not.”
    Jackson’s mouth firmed as his eyes silently warned Dylan not to interrupt again. This whole thing was crazy. How had he gotten into this mess? All he’d done was agree to accompany Jackson’s wagonload of mail-order brides to Denver City. He didn’t deserve to be humiliated by this black-haired harridan.
    “Even if he agreed,”