She couldn't imagine what was going on. She looked out the window to find out. Unfortunately, Kelley spotted her.
"Ah, now, I told you not to do that," he cried out.
"Mr. Kelley, what's happening?"
"Travis Clayborne's what's happening, ma'am." She didn't even have time to react to Kelley's explanation before Travis's roar filled the carriage.
"Emily Finnegan, get out of that stagecoach. I want a word with you."
She was so startled by the command, she struck her head when she jumped back against the seat. She only stayed there a second or two. Then she leaned out the window again.
And that was when she saw Travis striding down the street toward her.
She was certain she was going to keel over from heart strain right then and there. He looked wonderful and sweet and adorable… and furious.
He walked with his usual arrogant swagger. The man was obviously feeling perky again, and when she considered how close he'd been to dying-at least she thought he'd been close, no matter what the doctor said-his recovery was almost miraculous.
She let out a sigh. As much as she dreaded it, she was going to have to tell him good-bye. She wouldn't cry, no matter how overwhelming the urge, and the sooner she got it said and done, the quicker she could leave.
She decided to meet him halfway. Yes, that was what she should do. She would shake his hand, tell him thank you and good-bye, and be on her way.
She had second thoughts as soon as she opened the door. She noticed the telltale, now-you're-going-to-get-it glint in his eyes, and promptly shut the door again. She thought she knew why he was there. He had gotten out of his sickbed and ridden all the way down to Pritchard from the Perkinses' home just to tell her she was crazy again. He was stubborn enough to do such a foolish thing. "Mr. Kelley, make him go away."
"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but no one tells any of the Clayborne brothers what to do. You'd best get on out and find out what he wants." Travis shouted to her again. "Now, Emily!" She stepped out into the street, shut the door behind her, and started walking toward him. "Don't you dare leave without me, Mr. Kelley."
"That's sort of up to Clayborne, ma'am." She shook her head to let him know she didn't agree. She continued on toward Travis, muttering all the while. "If that man makes me cry, I swear I'm going to borrow his gun and shoot him. Just see if I don't."
Kelley heard her. "I'd be real surprised if Travis lets you have his gun, ma'am."
Emily ignored the driver. She stopped when she was about twenty feet away from Travis and put her hand out in a silent demand for him to stop where he was.
He ignored it.
"You were really going to do it, weren't you, Emily?"
"Do what?"
"Leave without saying good-bye."
"Travis, please lower your voice. You're drawing a crowd."
She turned to the boardwalk on her left and waved her hand at the group of men and women gathered there. "You there, move along, please. Go on, now."
When she noticed no one paid any attention to her request, she added a frown and then turned back to Travis.
"Yes, I was going to say good-bye."
"Is that so? Were you planning to shout it out the window of the stagecoach on your way out of town?"
"No, I wasn't going to shout it. I was going to write a letter to you."
His frown intensified. He didn't like hearing that bit of news at all. "You were going to write?"
She held her ground. For a second or two she thought Travis was going to keep on coming and walk right over her, but fortunately he stopped when he was a couple of feet away. She considered backing away from him, then changed her mind. He was deliberately trying to intimidate her, and she simply wasn't in the mood to put up with his antics today.
She was the one with the broken heart, for the love of God, and he had only gotten shot.
"Let me get this straight," he snapped. "You were hell-bent on going up to the crest so you could tell O'Toole face-to-face that you'd changed your mind and weren't going to marry him, but you didn't think you owed me the same consideration?"
"Millie told you."
"Damned right she told me," he said. "If you had mentioned your change of heart a little earlier…"
"You wouldn't have taken me up there."
"No, I wouldn't have. I wouldn't have gotten shot either, and you wouldn't have been in such a dangerous position. And by the way, Miss Finnegan, you won't be stepping out with any other men ever again, not even Jack Hanrahan. You got that?"
"Murder's frowned upon in these parts, Mr. Clayborne."
"Do you have any idea what would have happened to you if those bastards had gotten hold of you?"
"Yes," she cried out. "I know exactly what would have happened. I also know I almost got you killed. I'll never forgive myself for that. My only excuse is that I was trying to do the decent thing. If I'd known the O'Tooles were rodents, I assure you I wouldn't have gone up there. Oh, get it over with, why don't you? Tell me I'm crazy again. I know you want to."
"Fine. You're crazy. I swear you don't have a lick of sense in you."
"I'm not the one who got out of his sickbed and rode all the way to Pritchard just to tell someone she's crazy."
"That isn't why I came after you."
"Then why did you come here?"
She noticed he was having trouble coming up with an explanation. She also noticed the large crowd now surrounding the two of them. They seemed to have appeared out of thin air, and more were hurrying to join them.
She was appalled. "Don't you people have chores to do? This is a private conversation. Move away, now."
No one budged an inch. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a gentleman leaning against a hitching post. He had a wad of money in his hands, and each newcomer who arrived stopped to give him more before running into the street.
"Well, Travis? Why did you come after me?"
"I thought I wanted to give you a piece of my mind-" he began.
She interrupted him. "I wouldn't if I were you. You can't afford it. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get back inside the coach and be on my way. The driver has a schedule to keep. Mr. Kelley, where are you going?" she called out when she saw him running toward the man at the hitching post.
"Just making a friendly little bet, ma'am."
"Damn it, Emily, pay attention to me."
She was suddenly so miserable inside she wanted to scream. "Why should I? Everything is your fault. You made me fall in love with you, and now I'm so upset I can't think or sleep or eat."
She didn't realize what she'd blurted out until a woman behind her let out a little sigh. "She loves him."
Travis was looking outrageously complacent. She put her hand out toward him again to try to ward him off.
"I will recover from this affliction," she said. "Besides, loving you doesn't change a thing, so don't get any foolish notions. I'm going back to Boston."
"No, you're not."
"Yes, I am, and nothing you say to me will change my mind."
"You tell him, girl," a woman called out. "Don't let no man push you around."
"If she loves him, she ought to stay," someone else shouted.
The men in the crowd grunted their agreement. Emily was mortified by the audience. She turned to the woman who had suggested she stay, and whispered, "You don't understand. If I stay, I'll disgrace my parents and become thoroughly wanton."
The woman's head snapped up and her eyes widened. "Do you mean to say you would…"
Emily nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying."
"You've got to go home, then," she stammered.
Travis threaded his fingers through his hair in frustration. The thought of losing Emily terrified him, and he didn't know how to make her stay.