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"Excuse me." He slipped around Ainsley and grabbed Maitland's thin shoulder. "What have you said, man?" he demanded, ready to thrash him for any insult to the woman. |
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Mariah placed her small hand upon his sleeve. "It's no big deal. Really. I asked about the man over there, and Corporal Maitland told me his name: Will Shepherd. I knew of someone with a similar name who . . . who did something unpleasant, and I found the recollection upsetting. That's all." |
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Thorn glanced at the one designated as Shepherd. The impertinent young fellow stared back, his jaw jutting beneath his beard. There was something familiar about him, but no more so than any other of the current crop of soldiers at the fort; Thorn had seen nearly all at some time. He turned back to Mariah. |
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She had not told him everything. He was certain of it. She still looked ashen, and her story seemed poorly fabricated. Her stricken gaze remained on him as though there were more she wished to say. He'd a sudden urge to hold her. To comfort her. Yet she'd made it clear she did not want his assistance. |
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"Perhaps you can see what is holding up supper." Thorn knew he sounded ill-tempered, but her demeanor had startled him. And why the devil did she not explain what was on her mind? |
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That was not fair, he realized. Perhaps her problem was best revealed to someone she trusted. In private. |
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He felt his fists clench. Of course she would not trust him. And the idea of being alone with her might sound pleasant, but it was fraught with perils he did not wish to consider. Had not the few times they had been alone turned disastrous? She had tempted him over and over to forget his resolve to touch no woman ever again. |
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Mariah's eyes were downcast. She spoke quietly. "Holly said supper would be ready at any moment, but I'll check." She turned to go. |
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A pang of something he could not identify plucked at his gut. This meek obedience was not like his feisty serving |
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