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Jackson said, “the two of you can’t travel alone together without being married. It wouldn’t do. Are you willing to marry Dylan?”
    “Not on my last breath!” Ruth exploded.
    Dylan’s incredulous laugh burst out. “Marry Ruth?” He wasn’t the marrying kind. Lawmen and marriage didn’t work. Besides, Ruth was religious like Sara Dunnigan. On the wagon trail he’d seen Ruth read her Bible frequently. She’d taught Glory to read, using the Bible. He’d had a bellyful of religious fanatics.
    Oh, she was fun to rile. Every word he said ignited her fiery temper. But he wasn’t about to marry for convenience. At his age, he didn’t plan to marry for any reason. If he married that woman he’d never have a moment’s peace.
    “I won’t marry her. I wouldn’t take her to a barn burning, let alone Wyoming on some wild-goose chase looking for Cousin Milford. I have a job—remember? I’m late getting there as it is.”
    What sane woman would ask a lawman to take her hundreds of miles to a land she didn’t know, to a person who probably didn’t exist? Dylan had done his good deed when he offered to help Jackson on the trail.
    “And I would rather walk barefoot through hot coals than marry him,” Ruth stated, her chin lifting another notch.
    “Then we’re agreed.”
    Ruth whirled to face him. “Marshall McCall—you are the most—”
    “Don’t start again,” Jackson warned, “or I’ll dump you both back in the water barrel. Seems to me, there’re only two solutions. Either you stay here, Ruth, and deal with Oscar—”
    “Not on your life,” she breathed.
    “—or you marry Dylan.”
    “Not on your life,” Dylan said. He crossed his arms.
    Having observed all of this, Glory scooted closer to the edge of the bed. “What Dylan says is true, Ruth. Winter’s coming on, and you can’t travel alone with an unmarried man.”
    “I’ve already thought of that, Glory—”
    “Forget it, ladies.” Dylan pushed out of his chair. Damp curls were drying against his forehead. “Ruth has other choices. She doesn’t have to marry Oscar. She can tell the old man no and remain with the Siddonses until spring. That was the original plan.”
    “I feel I can’t impose on the pastor and his wife since I have received a marriage proposal,” Ruth argued.
    “Well, then I’d say you’re in a heap of trouble, Ruthie.” Dylan turned and walked toward the door, his boots squeaking with water.
    Ruth crossed her arms and stared at the floor. “Fine. I wouldn’t go with you now if the whole of Denver City was being swallowed by mountains.”
    Dylan tipped his head respectfully. “You and Oscar have a fine life together.” He purposely grinned to rile her. “I can picture the happy bridegroom clicking his heels together in joy when the preacher says, ‘I pronounce you man and wife.’ Just be sure to keep him supplied with chewing tobacco with a spittoon by the door.”
    He ducked when a soggy boot sailed past his head and hit the door.
    “Crazy woman,” he muttered to himself as he opened the door and stalked back to his room. No way could she make the trip to Wyoming. Not in winter. She couldn’t expect him to mollycoddle her. He had a job to perform and not an easy one at best. Having a woman along would be dangerous and foolhardy. Ruth needed to take care of her own problems. If that meant marrying Oscar, then so be it—though he did hate to see a young woman tie herself down to a man old enough to be . . . He switched the thought off. Nobody ever claimed life was easy or fair.
    Ignoring the bitter taste the confrontation had left in his mouth, Dylan returned to his bed in hopes of getting some sleep before he had to ride out.

Chapter Three
    “Mary?”
    Ruth gently shook the sleeping girl. Daylight would break in less than an hour, and she had to hurry. Shivering in her wet clothes, she shook Mary a little harder. She didn’t want to wake the others—Mary would be the most likely one to help and