Less than a second later rain sliced to earth, not in drops or trickles, but in cascades, making a roar the likes of which Maggie had never heard on the canvas roofs of the tents and covered wagons, and turning the enormous bonfires to heaps of sizzling charcoal. People dashed in every direction, taking refuge in and under wagons and inside the tents, laughing as they ran.

Maggie was desperate for shelter—her dress and hair were instantaneously soaked—but not desperate enough to go back inside that tent and hear more about a wrathful God. Cursing Tansy for getting her into this situation in the first place, she stood undecided in the downpour, looking this way and then that.

Suddenly, a strong hand caught hold of her elbow and she was being dragged through the driving rain. Water and her own wet hair streamed down over her face, making it impossible for Maggie to see who was pulling her along, but, as she stumbled behind her guide, through mud reaching nearly to her shins, she had an idea or two.

And she wasn’t entirely sure that it wouldn’t be better to stand outside in the rain until the storm passed.

After an interminable trek, Maggie made out the gloomy outlines of a covered wagon. Her abductor turned, grasped her firmly by the waist, and hoisted her high in the air. Her bottom landed with a mushy plop on the bed of the wagon, and she scrambled inside because so much water was rushing into her face, she couldn’t breathe.

She lay gasping on the floorboards for almost a minute, afraid to look up. Boots moved past her face in the darkness, and then a kerosene lamp flared to life, illuminating the interior of the wagon.

“You’d better get out of those clothes or you’ll have pneumonia before breakfast,” warned a placid male voice.

Slowly, Maggie levered herself to a sitting position and, with both hands, swept her sodden hair out of her face. Reeve McKenna sat on the edge of a narrow cot, smiling companionably. At Maggie’s glare, he spread his hands wide of his body, as if to ask what he’d said or done that was outside the bounds of social amenity.

She continued to glare, but her teeth were beginning to chatter by then, and she was shivering.

Nonchalantly, Reeve reached to one side and produced Maggie’s reticule. He tossed it and it landed at her side with a thump.

“You left this by the fire.”

Maggie looked at the reticule, which contained a warm nightdress and a change of clothing, with yearning. She supposed she should thank Mr. McKenna for safeguarding her possessions in such a way, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to speak such civil words.