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the Deomo, she would remain without complaint in cursed Parlania. Unfortunately, today that meant playing host to Brady Gellot.

    Brady was to spend only two days in Parlania, gathering a report and exchanging news, before returning to the Realm with the men. She wouldn’t have to tolerate the discomfort of his presence for long.

    She recognized Zeke in the moody swirls of the mists as he led someone to the bridge on the other side. Even with the fog and distance, she knew it was Brady. He stood a bit taller than Zeke and was much wider through the shoulders. His lean hips moved with the swagger of confidence she admired and wished for herself. And then there was his hair. Even as short as he wore it, the dark mass rose in unmanageable tufts and curious angles. It begged to be brushed and smoothed into obedience, though she’d never seen it tamed. Even when wet its wild spirit broke free.

    She knew how the conversation between the two men would go. Brady would trust the bridge as little as she did. But he was an excellent swimmer unlike herself and would brave the shaky walkway. No one could force her to try the ropes. A fall into the Watara’s icy spring flood would be death for someone with her limited skills.

    Brady looked across the river and after a moment lifted his hand in the Realm’s way of greeting. She had no choice but to return it. After a brief lift of her hand, she slipped back toward the trees and the meager cover of their still bare limbs.

    Her heart thudded in an irregular cadence as if it too was unsure how to think of this disturbing man. Two days in his company? Within the hour he would cross the river and she still didn’t know if she was excited or fearful.

    * * * *

    ONE GOOD WOMAN SUSAN KELLEY 9

    “You walked over on that?” Brady reached over his head and touched the twine.

    The ropes stretching across the muddy river were as thick as his wrist, but that was still pretty thin to put his feet upon.

    “I crossed at first light, sir.” Zeke Oman gestured at the massive, old oak that served as anchor for the rope bridge. “We put this rope up last fall and then Roth and some men climbed hand over hand across the river to set the others. A number of us have traveled back and forth regularly.”

    “Are you telling me to buck up, Oman?”

    Zeke grinned. “Trying to assure you it’s completely safe, sir.”

    Brady snorted but he patted the revolver hanging at his hip. “I trusted you when you asked me to try this new gun so I guess I’ll trust your next invention.”

    “I’ve heard the rumor you’re pretty good with it, sir. Did you bring more rounds? The men guarding the disposed shepherds have been carrying them.”

    “Two hundred rounds in one of my packs and someone else has another two hundred.”

    “Let me help you settle those packs, sir. You don’t want to be off balance crossing the bridge.”

    Oman shifted Brady’s packs around, putting the heavy bullet bag in the very middle. He had another pack with a change of clothing and a wide variety of other items and then the bundle made up of his sleeping mats.

    “Want me to go first, sir?” one of the Realm men asked.

    “No. You guys would never let me forget it.” Heights or dangerous bridges didn’t frighten him. It was the glimpse of the thin, feminine form he’d glimpsed waiting across the river that slowed his feet. She’d come to meet them, damn it.

    Cara had been much on his mind over the long winter months. Not that he hadn’t tried to forget her in the company of other women. His lingering fascination with the blonde-haired woman frustrated him. She’d made it abundantly and rudely clear she had no desire for his company, and there were many other women who felt differently. Still, her dark eyes visited his dreams with their secrets and mystery. Her too-thin body, unlike the more rounded forms of most Solonians, should not have attracted him. But it did. Now he would have to spend hours in her