Quinn said, his voice deep and almost quiet, as if speaking to me in a crowded room, instead of alone in an early season snowstorm. He was generous enough to escort me from the Bridgewater Ranch back to the boarding house in town where I lived and worked, although it did not seem as if I had much choice in the matter. Instead of asking to lead the wagon and the team for me, he'd told me. The snow had tapered, at least temporarily, but the wind was bitter cold on the exposed prairie. The heat radiating from his side where our bodies touched from shoulder to hip kept me warm, but I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have such warmth surrounding me. Holding me. Pressing me into a soft bed. I pushed those thoughts away and considered his words. The heat of embarrassment that rose to my cheeks warmed me as well, for he must have seen me eye Dashiell McPherson on occasion. "Oh?" I responded. "You should, instead, keep your eyes on the man who has his sights set on you." I tilted my chin and looked up him.
