“You can’t blame yourself, sir. Reckon she would have fallen from the wagon even if her husband had been alive.” Flynn had been watering his horse at the river’s edge when she tumbled out. He happened to see the whole thing from where he’d been standing. And he hadn’t wasted a single second in waiting to see if she could fend for herself, especially after crossing only an hour earlier and knowing the current was swift. He hopped up on Rimrock and plunged in after her.
“She’ll be devastated if I send her back East.”
“You need to do what you think is best.”
Dr. Howell watched as his granddaughter bent next to Ivy in the tallgrass, held herself motionless, and then an instant later cupped a grasshopper in her hand. She smiled her delight, which made her features all the prettier.
“I don’t know what is best, Mr. McQuaid. She’s an intelligent woman and one of the most capable botanists I know. Since my son’s passing, she is my pride and joy—but so scatterbrained just like him—and I can’t bear the thought of losing her too.”
Flynn’s attention trailed after Linnea and Ivy as they made their way to the riverbank.
“She has her heart set on being a member of this groundbreaking expedition and helping discover and catalog the plant life.”
So they were scientists who studied plants. Obviously highly educated. Probably rich.
“No sense putting your granddaughter’s life at risk.”
“That’s my thought exactly.”
Ivy picked up one of the discarded fishing poles and demonstrated how to slide a grasshopper onto the hook.
“From what I hear,” Flynn added, “the dangers of the trail are bound to get worse.”
“After everything I’ve read and heard, that’s what I’m afraid of. Hundreds die from all manner of diseases and accidents every year on the way to the west.”
Linnea bent to retrieve the other pole. With both hands full, the blanket fell away, pooling at her feet. As she straightened, her gown and strange frilly white pantaloons stuck to her skin, outlining her lovely figure and leaving little to the imagination.
Flynn swallowed hard and tore his gaze away. Holy horses. He didn’t need to be looking on a woman, stirring up all his longings and making things harder on himself. Although he was sorely tempted to take another peek, he shifted his entire body so he found himself facing Nash and Jericho Bliss.
From where they stood guard over the cattle, they had a clear view of Linnea and had stopped their jawing to stare openly at her. Dylan paused in brushing Rimrock and was watching Linnea with rounded eyes. No doubt so was every other man within a hundred-mile radius.
Except Dr. Howell, who was rubbing at his clean-shaven chin and studying the fire, oblivious to his granddaughter’s womanly appeal.
Flynn tamped down a strange sense of irritation.
“I love my granddaughter dearly. But she’s quite the handful for an old man like me.”
Dr. Howell wasn’t all that old. If Flynn had to guess, he’d put the man at sixty-five.
“Truthfully,” Dr. Howell continued, “she’s a handful for anyone of any age. She’s full of so much energy and zest for life that sometimes she doesn’t think of the consequences of what she’s doing until it’s too late.”
“Then I reckon the best thing is for you to find a group heading back to Fort Leavenworth and to send her packing with them.”
Dr. Howell stared at the fire. The rushing water of the river and the rustling wind in the leaves overhead filled the silence. Finally, he sighed. “Young man, you’re probably right. I know Linnea won’t like my decision, but what else can I do?”
“Other than hire someone to stand guard over her day and night, there ain’t much you can do.” Of course, Dr. Howell could consider Ivy’s suggestion that Linnea get married again. No doubt she’d have plenty of willing suitors if she but put the word out that she needed a husband.
His brows lifting, Dr. Howell’s attention snapped to Flynn. “You wouldn’t consider such a thing, would you?”
Flynn fell back a step. “Marry her? No, sir. I couldn’t.” Not even if someone hog-tied him and dragged him to the altar.
Dr. Howell opened his mouth to respond but stalled.
Too late, Flynn realized his blunder. Dr. Howell hadn’t made a single mention of marriage, wouldn’t make such a suggestion to a man he’d just met. “Of course, you ain’t lookin’ to marry her off so soon after she lost her husband. She’s still grieving. And I ain’t sayin’ I’m interested, ’cause it didn’t even cross my mind. Or at least not in the way you’re thinking. . . .”
Flynn blew out a tense breath and palmed the back of his neck. He needed to shut his mouth and stop making a blamed fool of himself.
Dr. Howell’s eyes crinkled at the corners with the beginning of a smile. “Don’t worry. She has this effect on most men. In fact, she had half a dozen propositions of marriage when Asa came along and fell head over heels for her at a party her mother hosted last autumn. Even though he was busy preparing for our western expedition, he made time to pursue her, and within weeks proposed marriage.”
The shade of the tree branches and even the dampness of Flynn’s clothing couldn’t take away the heat of his embarrassment. He drew in a breath of the cool air laced with the wood smoke from the campfire.
Dr. Howell’s mirth faded. “She could have had her choice from among New York City’s most eligible bachelors, but she decided upon Asa.”
A sad silence fell between them. Flynn kicked at a lump of flattened grass. He had to say something to ease the man’s sorrow. “Asa must’ve been a good man if your granddaughter picked him out of everyone else.”
Dr. Howell waved his hand in dismissal. “She chose him because he supported her work in botany, just like her father had always done. Of course, it helped that Asa invited her to come along on the trip . . . as his wife. When I opposed the idea, Asa was the one who stood up for her. She also won the support of her mother, who is much too liberal in her views for what women should be allowed to do.”
Flynn’s gaze slid to Linnea as if it had a will and a mind of its own. She’d thrown out her fishing line and had her back facing them. Even so, she was still a stunning picture, standing at the river’s edge, her hair unbound and blowing in the wind.
“I have considered suggesting she marry Dr. Greely, another scientist on our expedition.” Dr. Howell peered in the direction of the crossing, searching among the wagons and riders milling on the upper embankment. “He’s the only single man among the group. He’s quite enamored with Linnea, but I don’t think he’s firm or strong enough to handle her. Even if he was, I doubt she’d consider getting married again.”
“Because she’s so distraught over losing her husband?” Flynn guessed he was behaving as rudely as Ivy with all his prying, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from finding out more about the fascinating young woman he’d pulled from the river.
Dr. Howell shook his head. “To be sure, she cared for Asa. But, no, they weren’t married long enough to develop the kind of bond that brings true grief.”
Flynn shifted the weight off his weak leg, determined not to ask anything more about Linnea. She wasn’t his business. After they started out of the Neosho River valley, they’d part ways, and he’d likely never see her again.