Air found its way into Drew’s lungs. What was it about Catherine that made him react this way? He’d seen pretty girls before—not many and not often it was true, but still.
“I thought you said she was stuck-up,” one of the men commented with a frown to his friend. “She looks mighty nice to me.”
“I heard they started calling her the Ice Queen,” another agreed. “Looks as though the Wallins managed to thaw her out.”
“Maybe that’s why she needs a quilt,” the deputy said with a warning look to his posse. “Either that or she’s trying to shield herself from the criticism of people who came West themselves to escape it.”
His men had the good sense to look abashed.
McCormick returned his gaze to Drew, shifting on the horse so that his gun belt brushed the saddle horn. “The way I figure it, what you do with the gal is between you and her, so long as she’s in agreement. If she has no complaints, we’ll be on our way.”
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