1
" Is there a baby?” Her eyes went blank, as if he’d spoken the question in Apache. “A baby,” he repeated, “on the way. Is that why you hid out in my wagon? To trap me?” She gasped. Daniel heard the boys gasp, too, though he doubted they knew what he was really asking. She knew all right, because she unwound from the little ball she’d curled herself into and slapped him hard across the face. The boys all jumped, but they stayed under cover. Smart boys. She packed quite a wallop for a little thing. His face burned. His temper rose. Her chin began to quiver. The sparkle in her eyes blazed into fire. She pulled her hand back to paste him again. He caught her hand with a smart slap of flesh on flesh, surprised at how furious he was. He should have been sorry. He should have been begging her pardon for asking such a thing. But he wasn’t. And her anger might be over getting caught rather than being insulted. “Sorry, Mrs. Reeves, but that’s no answer.” The sting on his cheek came out in his voice. She jerked against his grip. He held fast. She raised her other hand—this one clenched in a fist—and he caught that, too. He leaned close. “You are well and truly trapped, Mrs. Reeves. Just like I am. "
― Mary Connealy , Calico Canyon (Lassoed in Texas, #2)
3
" Well, yes,” Daniel said. “We did spend the night together, but—” “Daniel,” Grace gasped in horror. Daniel looked away from the parson, his skin now fully flaming red. “Well, we did. Do you want me to add lying to the parson in on top of having you in bed…I mean, sleeping together…I mean, having you here without your clothes…I mean…” Daniel lapsed into silence. “Pa brung her home to be our ma, but he tried her out for the night and he decided to return her,” Mark said. "
― Mary Connealy , Calico Canyon (Lassoed in Texas, #2)
11
" Daniel’s huge, work-roughened fingers closed around her wrist. His voice sounded husky. “I told you to stop touching me, woman.” “Why are you angry at me?” She jerked her hand loose and poked him again, even though she had the strangest feeling that he wasn’t angry anymore, and she wasn’t exactly angry anymore, either. “I’m warning you.” He caught her hand again. This time when she pulled against him, he didn’t let go. He tugged her by her forearm until she bumped up against him. “Answer me, then.” She poked him with her free left hand. “What is the matter with you?” He caught her left hand. He pulled her closer. He leaned over her. “Why are women like this? Why do they torture a man? Dear God, why? "
― Mary Connealy , Calico Canyon (Lassoed in Texas, #2)