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Page 219
Kerr and his group of would-be settlers had returned.
For a moment, Mariah felt delighted to see thembut then she swallowed hard as she recalled the screenplay and its graphic, brutal dramatization of what happened to the settlers. When they hadn't been attacked by the soldiers before, she'd chalked it up to another error in the script. But did their renewed journey west mean that it might still happen?
Impulsively, she ran toward them, her plaid skirt swishing about her legs. "Francis!" she cried. Holly was already there, standing among the pack-laden horses and talking excitedly with the settlers as René stood off to the side, watching.
Francis shone a tooth-filled grin as she approached. His clothing and red hair were damp; some rain had fallen a while earlier. He took her hands in his short, boyish fingers before she could retract them. "Mariah, my dear, I counted the days before I saw you again, but with my tallying of coins at the trading post, I feared losing track. So, instead, here I am!"
She grinned. "You're full of blarney, Francis." She looked sidelong at Thorn as he hovered over the homesteaders: Francis's sister Ann, their pockmarked friend Edgar, his red-faced wife whose name Mariah could not remember, and the rest. His glower spurred her to touch Francis's arm. Though she knew the answer, she asked, "Why are you here?"
Laughing, he said, "We seized an opportunity. There was word of Indian unrest northeast of here, and most of the soldiers from the fort were sent that way. The remaining ones were too few to worry about a handful of sneaky settlers, so here we are! But I did not wish to go on without stopping here to ask you again to join us. Holly, too, of course."
He turned his smile on the other woman, who grinned impishly. "Of course," she echoed. "You men could always do with another woman willing to follow you to the edges of nowhere and cook you a hot meal without complaint, isn't that right?"
"You have us pegged, Miss Holly," Francis replied. "Are you coming?"

 
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