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we'd have to charge passage, and I rigger you're already in debt. Ain't that right?" |
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Thorn watched the sympathy in Little Elk's coal-dark eyes as Mariah's sought them, but then the Indian woman looked away, her dark braids catching on her shoulders. For a moment, Mariah appeared defeated. He had an urge to rise, to touch her sweet, determined chin and use it to raise her lowered head. Instead, he pursed his lips. Nonsensical, that he should feel sorry for her. |
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Especially when he also felt a ludicrous sense of relief. She wasn't leaving. |
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She raised her own head then, and circled the table. Putting the plates down once more, she knelt at Little Elk's side. "May I ask you a favor?" |
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The woman glanced first at her husband, as though asking his opinion. Rafferty's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he gave a curt shake of his head. |
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But then Little Elk raised her own chin, though not as high as Mariah's. "If I can," she said, not meeting her husband's irritated gaze. |
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Mariah had clearly caught the exchange, for she said, "It's a simple request, really. And it costs nothing. Just, if you happen to meet a man named Pierce at Harrigan's, please tell him that Mariah is eager to see him. You can mention you saw me at Thorn's Inn, but I'm sure he knows I'm here." |
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"I will do that, Miss Walker," the woman said in her soft voice. "Or if I meet this Pierce somewhere else on our journeys." |
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Thorn tightened his grip on his knife, although he had no target in mind. At least none that was present. Who was this man Pierce whom Mariah wanted to join? |
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And why did the idea of her wanting to meet up with any man turn his blood as cold as a mountain stream in winter? |
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Mariah took Little Elk's hand and grasped it. "Thank you," she said. |
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