Sam smiled. "Did Johnny lose his?"
Verity frowned. "It's for me."
"Right this way, then. It's dirty back here."
"I don't mind."
"Here's what I have ready made for daggers." His hands waved over a hanging selection of knives from two inches to over a foot long. "If you want something custom, it will take a few days."
Verity lifted the handle of a three-inch knife and assessed the balance of the hilt and the weight distribution of the blade. She tucked it against her forearm and swiped the air with it. Satisfied, she replaced it on the wall. "This is fine craftsmanship as always. I'm glad you're back in business."
"Thank ye."
"I'll require a custom order. My hands are too small for these."
"Do ye have a size and design in mind?"
She pointed to the three-inch. "I want a four-inch similar to this one, but I need the handle narrower."
Sam opened her palm and pressed in areas. He turned her hand over, and his eyes mechanically assessed her size and strength with murmurs and measurements. He was a very handsome man, and this felt very intimate, but there was no spark of heat, no desire or need, not like when Mathew touched her. But he rejected her. She brushed the painful thought aside. Sam scribbled notes on a pad of paper nearby and said, "I'll need two days, maybe one, but I dinnae want to promise that."
Verity nodded in agreement and she returned to the log cabin, cloak collar tipped up against the cold. Mathew came out front just as she reached the door.
"Come on, we're leaving." His bold blue eyes challenged her.
"You can't make me go anywhere," Verity said.
"They need privacy, we need safety. Let's go." His hand reached out to take her elbow. She twisted away.
"I'm not going with you and don't follow me." She didn't trust him not to bring her back to the farm. After declaring her independence from Jonathan, the last thing she wanted was to stand on his doorstep and announce her failure.
"Where are you going? Home?" he asked.
Verity cast her eyes down. "No. I'm going out west."
"Like Minneapolis?"
"California."
"You can't go out there alone."
Verity bristled. No longer would anyone tell her what she could and could not do. "I can go wherever I want. If you're so afraid for me"—Verity fought a smile. Maybe after a journey he'd change his mind—"Come with me."
"Whoa, hold on there. You're talking like the Oregon trail? I'm not dying of dysentery or typhoid. Shooting buffalo, buying bullets." Mathew shook his head. "Nope. Not happening. Haven't you heard of the Donner party?"
"No."
"They ate each other trying to cross the Rockies. And you would willingly follow their path?"
Verity hadn't heard the story, but it sounded like poppycock, especially since Mathew had lied to her before. Out west was where adventure and riches awaited her, and if he wouldn't come, then she didn't want to be bogged down by him. Sometimes his extreme caution drove her mad.
"Come with me," he insisted. "I'll get us a hotel room to warm up. We need to talk."
She couldn't handle being rejected by him again, and since he wouldn't come with her, she needed to get away. "Collect my things from inside and I'll go with you."
"That's the most sensible thing you've said today." Mathew grabbed her around the neck and kissed her. Stunned for a second, she allowed his tongue access to her mouth, her lips tingling and her legs weakening. Heat blossomed in her body, and she hated that he affected her so. Abruptly, he turned on his heels, breaking their bond. Verity blew out a cloud and her eyes pricked with tears. As soon as the cabin door closed, she mounted up and kicked her horse to a full gallop. She choked back a sob while she fled, her lips still tingling with Mathew's touch.
Icy wind stung her eyes. Staying in Bridgeport where Jaime Perez dominated was dangerous, and she couldn't stay with Sam and April, risking their lives and their precious baby. Verity wasn't ready to show up at the farm with her tail between her legs, nor beg Jonathan for her gun or his dagger—not that she could grip his effectively, and Mathew had all her essential belongings. So, she headed back west toward Astor to seek refuge until deciding her next move and kept her fingers crossed the bridge was unoccupied.
Verity crested the bridge, and her heart sunk when two heads appeared on the far side. She skidded her horse to a stop. The traitorous beast nickered, and Jaime's men turned their heads. She spun the horse around and kicked him into a new run. Galloping hooves closed in behind her and she avoided the first turn north—where the bandit Eddie Butcher had gone. But she also didn't want to keep going and run into Mathew. He didn't stand a chance against Jaime's men. She turned north on the next road, a small dirt path only wide enough for a single carriage.
The vegetation was gangly without its summer leaves, and Verity bolted uphill. She came upon a garden, hibernating for winter, with trimmed green hedges, a pergola covered in empty vines, and steppingstones leading up to a marvelous estate.
Sunshine yellow against the gray December clouds, it was beautiful. Verity stopped the horse and her breathing quickened. Only one man was rich enough for a home like this, and he was dead. With its immaculate condition, Grignon's predecessor must've been keeping it up, and she wanted to be as far from Jaime Perez as possible. She shook her head and turned. Rob Bertrand was on her heels—the one from the bridge that dashed off into the woods and fired a rifle in Sam's backyard. He rode right up to her and pulled her from her horse before she could react.
Verity screamed. She never would've made it to the Arris farm anyway. She only hoped Mathew didn't do some stupid, if he ever found her.
***
MATHEW WAS EAGER to find Verity's things and get a hotel room. He didn't know what would happen, but he needed to explain himself. She was infuriatingly stubborn, yet utterly perfect. But he refused to marry someone who only wanted a proposal because of obsolete social norms. He wanted her to choose him because she wanted him. A baby's coo turned his head.
"I suppose you're leaving," April said. She stood a few feet in front of him with his chubby pink namesake in her protective arms. His sister's sullen face showed she awaited his confirmation.
"I'm taking Verity to a hotel to chat." Mathew slung the bag over his shoulder.
April chuckled. "Sure you are. I don't need details, but no need to fib."
"I'm not fibbing," he said with softness.
"So, I guess...I'm not going to see you again, am I?"
Mathew closed the distance and gave her a hug. A quiet sob escaped her lips.
"Hey, hey. I plan to be back…with or without Verity."
"Without?" April cocked her head.
"She's mad at me. I'm trying to smooth it over."
"What did you do?"
"Apparently, I failed to propose marriage quick enough. I'm trying to stop her from fleeing to California."
"You never were good at reading women."
She was right. "In my defense, I've known her for about two weeks. So, whether I succeed or not, I promise to return. We have unfinished business."