"Do you expect to find this person in Ashley?"
He lifted his hat and mopped his forehead. His black hair reflected sunlight at the peak of every wave. He replaced the hat. "I'm sure of it."
"What are you going to do when you find him? She glanced at his lean hips. "You don't wear a gun."
His smile was disarming. "All I want is a chance to speak my piece."
"You're being paid to talk?"
His eyes twinkled. "Sounds like a good job for a woman, doesn't it?"
The bay stumbled slightly and he patted its neck. How many miles had he ridden this morning? She watched him mop his brow again.
"Why don't you ride up here with me for a while and give your horse a rest?"
He eyed the space beside her on the wagon seat suspiciously. She suppressed a smile. A little demon inside of her suggested it would be fun to chase him just to see him run. She patted the seat. "Come on. I won't bite."
He looked puzzled. "I suppose he could use the rest."
He let the wagon pull ahead and crossed behind it, speeding up to reach the seat from the other side. Winding the reins around the saddle horn, he shook out his rope and tied it to the bridle. He made the transition from horse to wagon in one smooth movement. He gave the horse enough room to walk away from the wagon and then tied the rope to the wagon.
After an awkward silence, she glanced up at him with a mischievous smile.
"You haven't asked me what a woman is doing out here driving a wagon."
His was a smile that reached the eyes, where a spark of guarded humor glimmered.
"Disappointed?"
She laughed. This was one trip that wouldn't be boring. Something about his flippant answer made her think he would be a master at verbal fencing. Talking with Fritz was better than nothing, but this young man had an unusual way of thinking.