Sweetwater (52 page)

Ed Henry had adored his sixteen-year-old bride but had never been able to make her happy. She so despised being a wife and mother that she had bitterly named their baby girl Henry Henry. After all, it was
his
child;
she
hadn’t wanted her. Dorene had left him and their child a few years later. Ed had not filed for divorce, and it had not seemed important to Dorene to make the break official.

Henry Ann was used to her name and liked it even though she’d had to endure a lot of good-natured teasing at school about it. She believed that her father was now secretly glad—

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a motor car coming up behind them. She urged Isabel to the side of the road and kept walking. The auto slowed and inched up beside them. It was a Ford coupe with a box on the back. She had seen the car go by the house several times but had never met the neighbor who owned it.

“Do you want a ride?” The man was big, dark, and held a pipe clenched between his teeth. He was hatless. His midnight black hair was thick and unruly, his eyes dark, and his expression dour. “You’re Ed Henry’s girl. I’m Thomas Dolan. I live just beyond your place.”

“I remember when you moved in. I met your wife.”

“You can have a ride if you want. If not, I’ll be getting on.”

“We’d appreciate it.”

“Put your suitcase in the back and climb up here. Careful. I’ve got a glass lamp back there.”
I’m hoping it’ll last longer than the last one. Glass lamps aren’t made to bounce off the wall.

Isabel waited for Henry Ann to get in first so she’d not be next to the man. He started the car moving as soon as they were settled in the seat.

“How is Mrs. Dolan?” Henry Ann asked politely.

“All right.”

“She’s very pretty.”

He grunted, but didn’t reply. An uncomfortable silence followed.

“We have a quilting bee twice a month at the church. I’d be glad to take Mrs. Dolan if she would like to go.”

“I doubt it.” After a long pause, he added, “She don’t go to church.”

“Oh … well …”

The awkward silence that followed was broken when he stopped in the road in front of the Henry house and Isabel asked, “Is this it?”

“This is it. Thank you, Mr. Dolan. Tell your wife I’d be happy to have her pay a visit one day soon.”

“Why?
You
didn’t get much of a welcome when
you
called on
her
.”

“How do you know?” Henry Ann replied testily. “As I recall, you weren’t even there.”

“I know my wife.”

Black hair flopped down on Dolan’s forehead and hung over his ears. The shadow of black whiskers on his face made him look somewhat sinister. His dark eyes soberly searched her face. If she could believe what she saw in his eyes it was loneliness … pain.

J
enny Gray wondered if she could survive a day in an isolated cabin near an Indian reservation—and she needed to stay
five years
to make the land hers. She had never chopped wood or cooked a biscuit in her life before she ran away from Pennsylvania with her two young sisters to teach school to the Shoshoni. She wasn’t like any other woman in Sweetwater, Wyoming Territory, and local rancher Trell McCall thought her as proud and beautiful as a princess, a lady who would never fall for a man with only livestock to his name. But when a crooked Indian Agent tries to drive her out, Jenny needs help. And when the untamed land begins to bestow its real riches—loyal, courageous friends and a rugged man ready to stand by her side—Jenny is ready to fight for their love.

Sweetwater

A New Western Romance from Dorothy Garlock

“HER BOOKS ARE PRECIOUS KEEPSAKES.”

—
Romantic Times

One of America’s—and the world—s’favorite bestselling writers, D
OROTHY
G
ARLOCK
is the author of thirty-five novels that total more than nine million copies in print.