by Bobbi Smith
“Crazy, no. In a hurry to get to Christopher, yes,” Angel answered calmly with a smile.
Lucky, however, saw nothing worth smiling about. “The deal was we were sailing. There ain’t no reason for us to have to ride across country,” he argued stubbornly.
“The deal was you would accompany me to California, period,” she reminded him.
“I thought we were going by boat,” the boy persisted.
“What difference does it make how we go as long as we get there? We should make much better time this way.” She couldn’t understand why he seemed so upset.
“And get ourselves lost or killed or worse doing it!”
“We will not. Do you remember the man we saw at dinner last night?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s Blade Masters, and he’s an experienced guide. I’ve hired him to accompany us.” When Lucky shot her a skeptical scowl, she added, “He knows the land. Everything’s going to be fine.”
So now Lucky knew what last night’s meeting had been about, but he didn’t feel any better. If anything, he felt cornered. “This is stupid! I ain’t goin’,” he declared. “You can forget the deal. Just pay me what you owe me for the time I’ve been with you, and I’ll clear out.”
His demand brought Angel up short. She’d prided herself on having come to understand him quite well. She hadn’t expected this reaction. Her gaze met his then, and she could see the tinge of fear behind his bluff and bravado. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you, Lucky?”
“There ain’t nothin’ bothering me,” he answered, defiantly. “I just quit. That’s all.”
“Well, in that case, I have bad news for you.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” she rejoined. “Our deal stands only if you accompany me all the way to California. If you walk out on me now, you get nothing. We agreed to the terms that I would pay you when we got there and not before.”
He glowered sullenly. He remembered the conversation.
“Now,” Angel went on, “do you want to tell me the truth? What’s the matter? Don’t you know how to ride?”
“I know how to ride all right,” he blustered. He couldn’t lose face by admitting that he’d had little experience with horses.
“Then, what is it?” she urged, her voice quiet and encouraging.
Lucky sulked. He was caught. If he walked away now without telling her the truth, he’d be penniless in a strange town. If he told her the truth . . .
“I know how to ride,” he mumbled reluctantly. “I just ain’t no good at it.”
Angel knew how hard it had to be for him to tell her that he couldn’t do something. “You want to know something?”
“What?”
“I’m no good, either,” she confided.
“You’re not?”
“No. In fact, I’m terrible; but that doesn’t matter. By the end of today, I plan to be riding with the best of them.”
“Think I can learn that fast, too?” He was buoyed by her confession.
“I’m sure of it. It’s really simple. All you have to do is hold on with your knees and point the horse in the right direction.”
“What if I don’t do it right? What if—”
“How difficult can it be? You’ll get the feel of it.”
“You’re sure?” He was still doubtful.
“Just pull on the reins whichever direction you want to go.... and remember to always mount from the left side.” Angel simplified what little she knew. A right turn here, a left turn there. It couldn’t be that much different from driving a carriage, could it?
“If you know so much about it, how come you’re no good at it?” Lucky asked.
“I don’t like horses.” She started to giggle, and after a moment Lucky joined in.
“You’re going to have to start liking them real fast,” he chortled, and Angel nodded.
“Real fast. We don’t want Masters to think that we can’t make the trip. We’ve got to convince him we can ride. All right?”
“I won’t tell him a thing,” Lucky promised. If Angel couldn’t ride, his own embarrassment no longer mattered. “All I have to do is hold on tight. That’s what you said, right?”
“Right. Now, let’s see what we’ve got to wear.”
Angel dug out her boots and the blue riding habit with its matching hat. Fortunately, her purchases for Lucky had included practical clothes. While the boy dressed, she brushed her hair, braiding it in a single, thick plait before going downstairs for a quick breakfast. They’d gotten up early, so it was barely nine when they returned to their room to wait for Blade.
Minutes, then hours, passed. As noon neared, Angel grew more and more anxious. Had the gunfighter taken her money and run? When the knock finally came, Angel almost threw the door wide open without caution. She stopped only at the last minute.
“Who is it?” she demanded, her hand on the doorknob.
“Masters.” Only one word, but she recognized his voice. “I’ve come with your gear.”
“Good morning, Mr. Masters,” Angel greeted him as she came face to face with him for the first time that day. She stared up at him in fascination, struck again by the incredible maleness of him. From the powerful set of shoulders to his lean waist, he seemed to fill the entire doorway. He was dressed in dark western garb, and it made him seem even more intriguing. His dark shirt was open at the neck, revealing the strong, tanned column of his throat, and he wore tight dark pants. A black hat was pulled low over his eyes. His gun rode low on his hip. Angel realized then that he really was half-Indian for there was an untamed aura about him. She felt no fear. She’d wanted a man capable of dealing with threats and the unexpected, and Blade Masters was her man.
“Mornin’, Miss Roberts.” Blade spoke politely, but his gaze swept over her. Their relationship was strictly business, but he was a man who appreciated beauty when he saw it. She wore a tiny ridiculous hat that was far from practical but was somehow endearing. Her hair, pulled back but not pinned up, was styled into a long, golden braid that hung nearly to her waist. The blueness of her riding habit complemented her fair complexion, and its style, nipped in as it was at her tiny waist, emphasized the full curve of her bosom. She was, he acknowledged, one good-looking woman.
“Come in.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He removed his hat and turned his concentration to his job, pushing all thoughts of her attractiveness from his mind. She was the boss. Picking up the parcels he’d brought with him, he stepped inside the room.
“This is my brother, Lucas, but everyone calls him Lucky. Lucky, this is Mr. Masters, our guide.”
“Hello.” Lucky got his first up-close look at the man he’d thought imposing the night before and found him even more impressive. This was someone you didn’t mess with.
Blade nodded to the young boy, appraising him. Though he, too, was wearing clothes more suited to a Sunday outing than a cross-country trip, Blade quickly judged him healthy and able to handle the rigors of the trek they were about to embark on. He wished he was as sure about the woman.
“We’re ready to leave, if you are,” Angel announced, pleased with herself. Everything was coming together.
“I’m ready, but you two aren’t,” Blade stated.
“What do you mean?” she countered defensively.
“I told you last night, this wasn’t going to be a church picnic or ride in the park, Miss Roberts. What you’re wearing wouldn’t last a day, let alone weeks and months.” He thrust one of the big, bulky, paper-and-string-wrapped parcels at her. “Here.”
She took the bundle from him, confused. “What is it?”
“I had a feeling you might need some cross-country traveling clothes. This one’s for you, Lucky. I guessed at the sizes, but I think everything should fit.” He handed the second parcel to the boy.
“Thank you, sir.”
“My name’s Blade, son. Use it. And don’t thank me. Your sister told me to buy what you needed for the tri
p, so I did.”
Angel ripped open her package and found a leather riding skirt, two practical, long-sleeved white blouses, a pair of leather gloves, walking boots, and a hat. The hat was western style, nothing like the prim little small-brimmed bonnet she’d been wearing. “You expect me to change?”
“If you’ve got any sense you will.” His gray eyes challenged her. “The sun gets mighty hot in the afternoon, and that little thing you’re wearing isn’t going to help a bit.”
She gave him a tight nod. She’d hired him for his expertise, and she’d be foolish to disregard anything he said. Lucky, tearing open his package, discovered a pair of boots, denim pants, two shirts, and a hat. He smiled with childish delight. Since meeting Angel, he had acquired more clothes than he’d ever owned before. He immediately set about changing.
“I’ve bought horses for us: three mounts and two pack animals. They’re saddled and ready to go down at the livery. We can leave immediately.” He walked to the door. “I’ll wait outside.” The door swung shut in Blade’s wake, and Angel hurried behind the small screen to undress. Lucky changed by the bed.
“Everything fits,” he announced rather proudly as he stared down his new clothes.
“Mine do, too. Even the boots.” Angel was amazed at Masters’ ability to judge their sizes. He was, she realized, remarkably observant. She stepped out from behind the partition. “What do you think?” she asked hesitantly.
Lucky studied her carefully. “You look nice. Different, but nice,” he concluded.
“What does that mean?” Angel moved to the mirror over the washstand and peered at herself in trepidation. She found the reflection reassuring. The leather split-skirt fit her perfectly, clinging to her hips as if it had been made for her and her alone. It was a little shorter than her usual length, hitting her at mid-calf, but with the higher boots no expanse of leg showed. The white blouse fit well, and she pulled on the gloves with ease. Satisfied, she examined Lucky. In his denims he looked like a miniature cowboy. “You look nice, too,” she assured him with a quick hug. “Now, we’d better hurry and get our things together. Mr. Masters is waiting.”
“He asked us to call him Blade, Angel,” Lucky reminded her as he stuffed the “Sunday-picnic” clothes into his bag.
“Blade.” She tried it out and decided she liked the name. It suited him. Had his Indian mother chosen it? Or his father? She would probably never know. “Yes. Well, Blade is waiting.”
“We’re ready, Blade.” Lucky opened the door.
Blade surveyed Angel, admiring the way the leather skirt fit her rounded hips. He adjusted the boy’s hat, satisfied. He nodded in approval. “Where are your bags?”
Angel indicated the luggage—three ample suitcases. The guide scowled. “We’ve only got room enough for two.”
“But—” Angel began and then thought better of it. It made sense to travel light and fast. When they reached California, she could buy more. She decided quickly what to discard. Then, armed with only the most basic wardrobe, money, and Lucky’s new possessions, they left the room and civilization behind.
“Oh, boy. ”Lucky gazed up—way up—at the horse he was expected to mount. Big was an understatement. The red-brown creature towered over him, massive in height and girth. Lucky wondered how he was supposed to get on the damned thing, let alone control it.
The horse, sensing his clumsiness, swung its neck around to size him up. It wheezed, exhaling loudly, and its breath blew puffs of hot air on Lucky’s skin. The boy felt clammy—and sick.
“All right, horsey, let’s see how we’re going to do this,” Lucky muttered with false affection, trying to remember everything Angel had told him about horsemanship. Mount from the left side rang in his thoughts, so he made a grab for the pummel but was too short to grasp it. He was looking for something to stand on when Blade appeared.
“Let me give you a hand,” Blade offered, helping Lucky into the saddle. He’d deliberately bought the biggest, sturdiest horses he could find. The trip would be long, and he wanted the best mounts available. He’d assigned the boy the quietest of the three saddle horses, a strong roan gelding named Blue.
“Thanks,” Lucky told him as he settled in astride the huge horse. He sat easily, his features schooled into a feigned calm that gave Blade the impression that he was confident and knew exactly what he was doing.
“You comfortable?” Blade checked the stirrups to make sure they were the right length.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Good boy.” Blade handed him the reins and went on to see about the pack horses.
Lucky cast a glance down at the ground and swallowed nervously. His hands tightened unconsciously on the reins, and Blue sidestepped skittishly. At that unexpected move, the boy grabbed on the pommel and hung on. When the horse calmed, he let out his breath and noticed that Angel had already mounted up. She seemed at home on horseback.
Shifting uneasily, Lucky tried to get used to the feel of the wide, powerful animal beneath him. It was a strange sensation. He remembered what Angel had told him about hanging on with his legs, so he tightened his knees. Again the horse moved restlessly, and it impressed him to know that he really did have influence over the big animal’s behavior. His confidence grew—a little.
“Ready?” Blade asked as he picked up his own reins and swung up onto his mount in a fluid, easy motion.
“Ready,” they echoed in unison.
Oblivious to their inexperience, Blade turned his horse and started out of town, the pack animals in tow. Angel, determined not to let Blade know she was a novice rider, had already made up her mind that she would match him mile for mile. She locked her gaze on Blade, confident that she could learn by watching and imitating him. When he used his heels against his mount’s sides, she did likewise, and her mount moved easily after Blade’s. Lucky urged his horse on, too, and Angel let the boy in front of her so she could keep an eye on him. Then, with little fanfare, they were on their way.
Her shaken confidence returned as they headed north out of New Orleans. Soon, they would be far away and safe from Michael.
Blade had seen their initial awkwardness in the saddle, but had assumed that it was because they had not ridden recently. He kept the pace slow as they made their way out of the city, his plan for the trip simple. They would follow the river road as far north as the Red River, then take the northwest cutoff. No matter which way they traveled overland, the terrain would be rough. Louisiana roads were notoriously bad, and when it rained—as it often did this time of year—they were non-existent. The woman’s refusal to sail suggested that there was more behind this trip than she had admitted. But all he was concerned about was the money. If his boss had insisted they ride, they would ride.
Blade continued at a moderate rate until they were away from the city. It was only then, when he urged his mount to go faster, that the truth became apparent. Miss Angela Roberts bounced in the saddle, and her brother, hands wrapped in the reins, looked to be holding on for dear life. Blade slowed until they all were riding abreast.
“Something wrong?” Blade asked, as amused as he was annoyed.
“No. Why do you ask?” Angel parried his question, trying to avoid the inevitable.
“How much riding experience did you say you had?” Blade asked, a mocking gleam in his gray eyes.
“Enough,” Angel answered tersely, uncomfortable in the face of his scrutiny. “If I look a little awkward, it’s because I always rode sidesaddle before. That’s all.” It was not a real lie, she told herself. The three times she’d ridden in Philadelphia, she had ridden sidesaddle. “I’ll be fine in a little while. Riding astride takes some getting used to.”
“What about your brother? Why is he having such a hard time?” Blade transferred his assessing gaze to the boy, whose face was grim and resolute.
“No, Blade. I’m doing fine. Honest.” Lucky gave a smile, but when Blue side stepped, he quickly grabbed the pommel.
“You’re holding the reins too tig
ht, Lucky. Ease up on them, and he’ll handle better,” Blade instructed without censure, knowing the importance of a young boy’s pride.
Lucky did as he was told, and Blue immediately calmed.
“Is there anything else we should know, Mr. Masters?” Angel asked for the sake of expediency. If she were doing something wrong, she wanted to hear about it now. She was proud, but she wasn’t stupid.
“The name’s Blade.”
“All right,” she agreed. “My name’s Angela.” She refused to tell him her nickname, wanting to keep some degree of formality between them.
“It’s a pretty name.” His gaze was warm upon her.
She flushed. “Thank you. Now, about our riding. . .”
“We’ll keep it at an even clip until you two get the feel of it.”
“No. Don’t slow down for us. The faster we move, the better.” Angel insisted.
“We’ve got a long way to go,” he cautioned. “If you wear yourself out the first day, you’ll only lose ground later.” He wondered at her need to hurry. Ignoring his warning, Angel dug her heels into her horse’s sides, and her mare ran on ahead of the other two.
“You doing all right, boy?” Blade asked Lucky, one eye on the boy, the other on his demanding ‘boss.’
“Yes, sir.”
“Guess we’d better catch up with your sister, then.” Blade, too, spurred his horse to action.
Lucky saw how Blade sat in the saddle and copied him. He saw how Blade held the reins with ease, and he did the same. He saw how Blade moved as one with the horse, and he tried too. It was much harder than it looked, but Lucky wasn’t about to give up. Blade Masters was a man who knew what he was doing, and Lucky wanted to be just like him.
The miles unfolded endlessly as the day progressed, but Angel didn’t change her mind. Doggedly, she kept herself upright in the saddle even though her body screamed for relief from the incessant pounding of the horse’s pace. The afternoon heat was sweltering, but she focused solely on the mud and the rutted road in front of her. She’d had no idea that the roads were this bad, but she said nothing. Blade had warned her, and she’d look the fool if she said anything now after only a few hours. Angel thought she understood why the natives traveled mainly by boat.
