"Hell, I thought you and me…"What had come over her? She seemed a stranger, making him suddenly at a loss for words.

"I'm not ungrateful for what you've done," she said. "I don't blame you for anything that happened. No one forced me to become intimate with you."

"What are you talking about? You know what we have together, you and me."

"No… I don't know. And that's what I have to think about." Flushing, she turned abruptly and started up the stairs.

"Tamsin?"

"Tomorrow."

He didn't know whether to swear or go after her and kiss her. Having the charges dismissed should have made her happy… And if she wouldn't talk to him, how was he going to tell her that he wanted to marry her?

"Women," he muttered. His arm was aching where the bullet had nicked him, and he was working on a hell of a headache. Damn if he wouldn't go back to the saloon and have a drink himself.

Tamsin closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. Her heart was beating rapidly, and she felt lightheaded. Either she was coming down with the ague or she really was with child.

She went over to the bed and sat down. She'd hurt Ash, and she hadn't meant to. The moments of elation when the judge had dismissed her charges had given way to uncertainty.

California seemed farther away than ever.

Since her husband's death, her dream had kept her going. She'd been determined to prove wrong Lawyer Crawshaw and all the others who'd laughed at her.

If she told Ash that she thought she was carrying his child, she knew that he'd take care of her, might even feel that it was his duty to marry her. She loved him, but that wasn't the way she wanted to start a marriage. And suppose she wasn't pregnant at all? Her body might simply be reacting to the ordeal she'd been through. Could she say to Ash later, "Well, I thought I was in the family way, but I'm not? Sorry, my mistake."

He'd never promised her anything beyond what they had, wonderful memories that she would carry with her for the rest of her life. Forcing him into marriage by holding fatherhood over his head didn't seem to her to be the most sensible of plans.

Could she simply ride away and give him up, loving him as much as she did? That was as bleak a thought as bearing a child without a father.

Slowly, she unbuttoned the bodice of her black dress and pulled it over her head. Next she struggled with the cursed steel-hooped crinoline, removed two petticoats, her shoes, and her stockings, leaving her standing barefoot in a simple linen chemise and calf-length cotton drawers.

All these fine garments were borrowed, too loose and too short in some places, too tight and confining in others. In truth, she had less now than when she'd come to Sweetwater. Her riding outfits, her spare clothing, and all of her personal possessions were lost. She had no money and no hope of earning more if she wished to reach California before winter snows blocked the passes.

Mrs. Zajicek had offered her a loan and promised to secure her a place in a party that was leaving Denver for San Francisco. The older woman had assured her that there were two respectable ladies traveling with their husbands and small children.

One lady, a Mrs. Tourtillott, had expressed a desire to find a woman of good character to help her with her little ones on the arduous journey. Mrs. Zajicek felt certain that with her personal recommendation, Tamsin could have the position.

The thought of being in Helen and Dimitri's debt was depressing, yet Ash had already promised to supply Dimitri's expenses in defending her. That amount must certainly be repaid.

She had known Ash Morgan for a matter of weeks, not months or years. When she'd proved herself to be such a poor judge of men in the past, could she surrender all her dreams for a man who was a virtual stranger? Throw herself on his mercy simply because she thought she was in love? Would she have felt the same way about Ash if he'd simply come courting her in a yellow-wheeled buggy? Or if he was a grocer rather than a dashing bounty hunter?

The unease in her belly passed, but her mind would not stop churning. She forced herself to drink a glass of water and brushed and braided her hair. It was barely dusk through the dusty window when she climbed into bed, determined not to shed tears over her hapless state. In the morning, when this day was behind her, she would make a decision about Ash Morgan and her own future.

In the morning, she promised herself.

"The hell you will!" Ash said. It was nearly noon the following day, and Tamsin was mounted on her chestnut mare with the Appaloosa and stallion in tow. Ash had followed her out of Sweetwater onto the Denver road after a late breakfast with Dimitri and his wife.

Tamsin hadn't been out of sight of the town when she'd announced that she was joining a wagon train to San Francisco.

"Who's going to stop me?"

"I am." He reined Shiloh so close to Fancy that his duster brushed Tamsin's skirt. "You're not going anywhere without me."

She threw him a look that would have soured milk. "I think I'm in love with you," she said.

"You do? Well, that makes sense. You're in love with me. I'm about to ask you to marry me, and you're running away."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Marriage? With you?"

"Hell, no, not with me! With my horse. What's wrong with you? Have you lost what sense you have? I'm asking you to be my wife."

She clicked the chestnut into a trot. "It's an odd way to ask a lady, I must say." Her chin firmed. "You've said nothing about love."

He snatched off his hat and threw it onto the ground in disgust. "Damn it, woman, it's not a thing I should have to say. You ought to know how I feel about you."

"Should I? A gentleman would make himself perfectly clear."

Feeling foolish, he circled Shiloh and scooped up his hat. "You think I'm just going to let you ride out of my life? After you shot Jack Cannon to save me?"

"Not out of your life." She pulled up her mount. "This is too sudden, Ash, too fast for either of us. I'll be in San Francisco. I want you to think about this for a few months, then if you still want me, you can write to me in care of general delivery, and-"

"That does it." Jabbing his heels into his gelding's sides, he guided the horse close to Tamsin and lifted her out of the saddle.

"Stop! Put me down," she protested as he dragged her up in front of him.

He stilled her thrashing with a sound kiss.

"Marry me, Tamsin," he whispered when they came up for air. "Marry me and take me to California with you."

"Do… do you mean it?" she stammered. "Do you really love me?"

He kissed her again, and her arms went around his neck so tightly that he could hardly breathe.

"What will you do in California?"

"Build you that damn horse ranch you're always clamoring about. Surely you can find work for a halfway decent wrangler on it."

"How do I know you'd make a good wrangler?"

"I rode that Satan-born imp of yours, didn't I?"

"That was downhill in a rock slide and later when people were shooting at him. Dancer was too frightened to put his best effort into getting rid of you."

"He seemed to try."

"Maybe," she admitted. "But I won't have any ranch, not for years. I'm broke. I don't have anything but these three horses and…"

"Tamsin MacGreggor, will you never shut up. I've got enough for both of us."

"What?"

Shiloh came to an abrupt halt, and he swung down out of the saddle and lifted her down. "Look in my saddlebag."

"In your saddlebag?" she repeated. "Are you deaf as well as addled?" He yanked open the leather pouch and filled her hands with certificates of deposit. "I never expected to live long enough to settle down, but I saved what I made, just in case. The reward for the Cannon brothers will pay our way to California, and this should buy your precious land."