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from Independence where the wagon trains formed before they set out on the Oregon Trail, and the merchants seemed to be doing a good business selling supplies which would be needed for the trip. Gabrielle could feel the excitement in the air as families swept past her, their faces aglow as they made last-minute preparations for their great adventure, and she envied them. She was so close to making the journey, and yet she knew if only ten of theyoung women Mr. Home expected to attend the final meeting arrived Jason Royal would insist there was no place for her. The more she thought about their late-night confrontation the more mortified she became. She raised her hand to her lips as though people she passed in her walk could see how wantonly she'd behaved. She had never expected to kiss another man the way she'd kissed Beau, with the slow, sweet passion his love had always inspired. Jason Royal had simply caught her by surprise that was all. He'd taken advantage of her mood, encouraged her to confide in him, and then had pushed the trust he'd inspired to it's limit. Well, perhaps not to its limit since she'd come to her senses so swiftly, but had she not been so shocked, she was certain he would have suggested they share her bed. His bed she supposed it was actually. Furious all over again as she thought of the nerve of the man, she forgot to watch the time and then had to lift her skirt and run from the far end of the

    town all the way back to the hotel, much to the delight of the gentlemen she passed with no more than a breathless smile.
    Clayton Home was pleased to see all twenty young women had returned as promised and nudged Jason. "It's after ten, why don't you begin."
    Jason nodded absently as he looked around the room, silently counting the young ladies who were seated in a semicircle in front of him. Coffee and tea had been served when suddenly it seemed to him that he and Clayton had made a terrible mistake. They had selected young women who could sip tea politely, who had pretty smiles and bright glances; but what they should have sought were strong lasses who could not only face the hardships of the Oregon Trail but survive them. Clearing his throat, he began in what he hoped would be such a convincing tone that the assembled ladies would quickly flee.
    "Good morning. Mr. Home and I would like to take this opportunity to thank each and every one of you for responding to our advertisement. As some of you know, in the early 1840s, countless numbers of single men braved the rigors of the Oregon Trail to establish farms in the fertile valley of the Willamette River. Last year, by treaty with Great Britain, the United States gained exclusive control of the Oregon country and now, in 1847, the route is traveled by families following in the footsteps of the many gallant early pioneers. However, single women being so few, the men who were among the first to arrive have begun to despair of ever finding brides. Mr. Home, being the sympathetic friend that he is, offered to do his best to bring ladies as charming as you to Oregon City, where you'll find men eagerly waiting to become your husbands." Jason paused for a moment, wanting to be certain he had their rapt attention before he continued. "While that happy prospect is what brought you all here, what lies ahead is beyond imagining. The way is more than difficult; it is tortuous, fraught with perils which will surpass your worst

    fears. We will have to cross two thousand miles of inhospitable terrain, brave the harshness of the elements and the fury of Indian tribes who see our passage through their lands as an assault by an enemy force. You will be only a small portion of a wagon train consisting of more than fifty families—the wagons are already assembling just outside Independence—and as soon as we join them we will make plans to depart on what for many will be the last journey they will ever take."
    Jason hoped they understood the dangers to which he was