"Where am I going to sleep?" "Under the supply wagon, with me," Steven answered. "We'd better turn in right now, because I want that herd moving at sunrise." Emma's sense of propriety was a little belated, but it was strong nonetheless. "What will the men think?" she asked, her voice barely audible. Steven grinned as he pulled blankets from the back of the wagon and tossed them at her. "I'm sorry to disillusion you, Miss Emma, but they've probably already figured out that you and I weren't picking gooseberries down by the creek tonight." Once again Emma made the disturbing discovery that her hindsight was much clearer than her foresight had been. "Oh," she said. Steven"