Emma's Blaze (Fires of Cricket Bend Book 2)
Page 6
“I’ve been through a few stampedes in my time. I don’t care to do it again.” Bill remembered the stampedes. He’d been fifteen the first time he’d seen one, and the sheer terror he remembered feeling had kept him vigilant ever since. Hundreds of cows had raced blindly in the darkness, kicking up dust and bumping into each other, goring each other with their horns, while trying to go in all directions to escape a pack of coyotes. He’d been so scared he’d wet his pants, and at the end of the chaos one man, a hand named Chester, had been found trampled into the mud. Bill had seen his mangled body. Appie had tried to keep him from seeing it, but he saw it anyway. He’d never forget the sight.
There’d be no stampeding cows if he could help it.
He realized Sparrow was staring at him. “Let’s get back,” he said, and started to head back to Orion.
Her hand caught hold of his arm. When he turned, he saw her furrowed brow.
“Emma,” she whispered. “My name is Emma.”
“Why’d you tell me that? Thought you only told your friends.”
“Perhaps we’re becoming friends. I thought it might ease your mind,” she replied. “Maybe it was foolish, but—”
“No.” Nothing more than a nugget, a haypenny worth of information, but it had made him feel lighter. She’d noticed he was troubled by memories, and had told him her name to ease his mind. She’d let her hat fall back, and the breeze blew a few strands of flame-red hair into her face. She shook her hair back and looked right at him, clearly unafraid of being alone with him.
And she was still holding his hand in hers.
He decided to push a little. “Emma what?”
“Now, don’t get greedy,” she answered. He pulled her back to her feet. “That’s information for another day.”
Face to face, he took in her beauty. The days on the trail had wiped away any trace of rouge or delicate ointments, but even plain-faced, she was beautiful. Her green eyes were wide, surrounded by dark lashes, and her lips were a sweet shade of pale pink. Under his gaze, her skin grew flushed. As much as he liked her, it seemed she liked him right back. “If I tell you I’m a little sweet on you, would you be surprised?”
“Very little surprises me.” The smile she gave him grabbed hold of his heart and held it tight. “Though very few men are as straightforward as you are. I appreciate it.”
“I don’t have time for foolishness.”
“I’m aware. I’ve met your brothers. And your herd.” She moved closer.
Before Bill could weigh whether kissing her would be impolite, Emma leaned in and put her lips to his. It was a light kiss, curious instead of forceful. He returned it, and any thought of blood and cows evaporated. All that remained was the woman before him: Emma, who emerged from the shell of the mysterious Sparrow.
It had been a long time since he’d kissed a woman, and he hoped he didn’t embarrass himself. There was enough skill in her kiss for the both of them, and Bill felt he caught up quickly. She tasted the way a woman should—of salt and earth.
“I hope you don’t think I’m too forward.” Emma pulled back a little. Flirtation sparked in her eyes.
“I think you’re perfect,” he answered. His body and soul felt pulled to her, yearning for what could be between them, if they let it happen. But they were alone, and he was trying to be a gentleman for as long as he could. Rushing her could scare her, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. “We should ride ahead a bit more. The creek joins up with a river not too far ahead, and we’ll need to figure out a place to cross.”
“How do you take two thousand cows, a pack of horses, and a wagon across a river?”
“Delicately.” He ducked to kiss her again. “Though staying right here is tempting.”
Emma wrapped her arms around his shoulders and returned his kiss, deep and long. Only when Maggie huffed did they part. “Then let’s ride ahead.”
So they did. A few miles farther, a big river cut across the plains. Bill knew it was coming, but he’d somewhat hoped the terrible weather conditions of the past winter and summer would have minimized the size. The river was wide, and fast-moving. It was the treacherous kind that whisked people and cows downstream. Still, it had to be crossed.
When they got back to the drive, Josiah was riding beside Jess in the front.
“River’s wide,” Bill said in greeting to his father. “’Bout three miles ahead looks as good a place as any to cross. Plenty of room for the herd, and as shallow a place as we’re like to find for the wagon.”
Josiah scowled when Emma rode up by his side.
“Should we make camp here, or go a bit more?” Jess asked, noticing the tension.
Josiah kept looking at Emma. “Push on up. Leave about a quarter-mile before the river, and get to making camp. We’ll cross the river tomorrow first thing after sunup. Appie’ll drive the wagon. She can take Maggie across.”
Emma exclaimed, “Me?” Her voice was sharp, and louder than normal.
“Pa, there’s no reason—”
“I am not talking to you, boy.” His hard eyes studied Emma. “Don’t think you can do it?”
Her expression became steely. “I didn’t say that.”
“Good.” Josiah rode off.
“He’s being a stubborn fool.” Jess shook his head.
“You don’t have to ride Maggie across,” Bill assured her.
Emma sat up tall. “I am aware of that. But I’m still going to. Now, if you boys will excuse me, I’ll get back to Appie and start readying supper. He mentioned bison steaks tonight, and he’s going to teach me how to prepare them.”
Bill watched her ride around the drive, back to where Appie was bringing up the wagon.
Jess whistled. “She’s trouble, that one.” When Bill turned to yell at him, Jess continued. “The good kind of trouble, though. Nothing keeps a man on his toes like a hellcat.”
“She won’t tell me a thing about herself.”
“Does she need to?”
Jess had a point. Who was Bill to demand any answers from Emma?
Emma. She’d told him her name.
It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
CHAPTER SIX
Emma
Josiah McKenzie had some nerve. Who was he to act like he was better than her, like she hadn’t been working herself to the bone to prove to him she wasn’t going to be a bother and that she wouldn’t slow them down? After she caught up to Appie when the drive stopped for the evening, Emma set to work starting the fire to make biscuits and coffee. All the while, she leaned on her crutch.
She yanked items from the chuckwagon, and slammed a cast iron pan down on a stool.
“Looks like you’re ready to kill something,” Appie noted. “Or someone, maybe.”
“Your boss,” Emma replied. “If he’s not careful, I swear. He hates me. I have no idea why. I didn’t ask to be pulled out of the woods and brought here. It wasn’t part of my grand plan.”
“Plans are well and good. Life don’t always heed them.”
“Truer words have never been spoken.”
Appie handed her his spatula and pointed to the biscuits. “Flip those. You got to learn how to ignore Josiah. He growls loud, but he’s no coyote.”
“Why does he hate me?”
“He doesn’t hate you. He thinks you’re bad luck—a woman on the trail. Maureen wanted to come along one year, and he threw a tantrum like nothing you’ve ever seen. You being here unnerves him. At the same time, he’s too good a man to send you off until we get you safely to Cricket Bend. Puts him in a hard place.”
At least it was an explanation, if a silly and superstitious one. Big, bad Josiah McKenzie thought she was a serpent in their midst, a tipping pot of hot water, and an accident waiting to happen.
A man’s laugh interrupted them. Emma had been keenly aware that Andrew McKenzie had ridden up as she’d been standing with Appie. He now leaned against the wagon wheel near her, toying with a deck of cards. “Now, Appie, you know well as I do that Pa likes being in
a hard place. If he ain’t already in one, he’ll find a way to make one.”
Emma heard him flip the cards, shuffle them, the rat-a-tat of the cards making her already irritable mood even worse. Apparently, he was annoying Appie as well. “Ain’t you supposed to be out with Hiram?”
“Hiram don’t need me,” Andrew replied.
“How would he know? You’re never around to do your work.”
“I do plenty.”
Appie scoffed, but perhaps realized arguing with Andrew was pointless since he let the conversation go. The flipping of the cards continued, grating on Emma’s nerves until she’d had enough. Once she’d pulled the biscuits from the fire and got them on a plate, she wiped her hands and turned to Andrew. “Do you ever play those cards, or do you just flip them to show off?”
“I play them.”
“Solitaire doesn’t count.”
“You play cards?”
“I do. Very well, in fact. Probably better than you.”
He looked her up and down. “Somehow, I doubt that.”
“Deal me a hand and find out, why don’t you?”
He hesitated.
“Scared she’ll beat you?” Appie chimed in.
Andrew’s face grew steely. Emma knew he’d deal her in, now that he’d been challenged. So she set her crutch down and picked up a crate. Bringing it toward Andrew, she set it down by the small cooking table and settled herself. Andrew pulled up a chair, and sat at the table across from her.
All the time she’d spent playing cards probably added up to weeks of her life spent dealing hearts, spades, diamonds, and clubs. Since she was pretty, the men she’d played opposite of never expected her to be terribly skilled, which had made the cons so much better, and ever so much easier.
Watching Andrew’s cocky smirk as he dealt a hand, she knew he wasn’t expecting much of her abilities.
But she could also tell the moment he cheated. With what he thought was skill, he slipped a card up into the sleeve of his shirt. It was a basic cheat. Emma had pulled it herself and seen it done a hundred times.
Over her shoulder, she knew Appie watched as he cooked. Maybe Andrew needed to be brought down a notch, faced head-on and left in the dust. She intended to do just that, and was happy when Pete arrived to witness the action.
She would take Andrew down, and it would be a show.
The cards she held weren’t bad, though Andrew had obviously cheated with the intention of giving himself better cards. Had she been a less skilled player, he’d have been able to win instantly. It was a good trick. Whoever had taught him how to cheat had been pretty good.
Emma, however, had been taught to cheat by the very best.
Poker face, Emma.
That voice came to her mind once again, spurring her to sit up tall. It was time to be The Sparrow. She adjusted the cards in her hand as she spoke. “You ever planning to play that queen?”
“Pardon me?”
“The queen.”
“Which queen?”
“The one in your sleeve.” She lay down a pair of jacks and waved a finger absent-mindedly toward his arm. “Saw you tuck it. The left sleeve. Queen of diamonds, I’d wager.”
“What would you wager?”
Emma looked across the table with a flat expression. “More than you’ve got, cowboy.”
Pete whistled, and Andrew glared at him. Emma kept her face unreadable, though she felt like giggling and clapping. Nothing was as much fun as busting a bad cheater. “The card.”
“You’re crazy.”
Emma set down her cards. “Am I? Show me what’s in your left sleeve.”
“Show her,” Pete said. “You wouldn’t cheat a lady, would you?”
Andrew reached into his sleeve and pulled out a card. It was, indeed, a queen of diamonds.
“Woo!” Pete exclaimed in triumph. “She schooled you.”
“Shut up,” Andrew grumbled, grabbing his cards back.
“The big shot got called out by a woman. No offense, ma’am.”
“I take no offense at being called a woman. After all, I am one.” Emma watched Andrew try to hide his fury. It didn’t work, and he damn near exploded as he leapt to his feet.
“Woman!” Andrew scoffed in rage. “You’re nothing but a—”
“Watch yourself.” Pete stepped forward in warning, before he called over his shoulder. “Boys! Sparrow just caught Andrew cheating at cards.”
Andrew threw the entire deck of cards at Pete and Emma. The cards flipped through the air and rained down to the earth. A few of them struck Emma and Pete. It was a hard throw, and well-aimed. If it’d been anything heavier than paper, the impact would have hurt. Andrew turned on his heel and swore loudly as he left the cooking area.
Emma bent down to pick up some of the cards. Pete did the same.
“Your brother has quite a temper,” she noted. The memory of what Jess had said about Andrew fighting a woman in Cricket Bend came to mind, and with it a warning from her gut of approaching danger
Pete nodded. “You watch out for him, you hear?”
“I will.”
Pete held out a pile of cards he’d collected for her. “Still, it was fun to watch him get schooled. How’d you know he was cheating?”
“I know a thing or two about cheaters,” Emma replied, watching the direction Andrew had gone. For all her confident acting, her skin had prickled the moment he’d thrown the cards at her. Men with tempers like his weren’t to be trifled with. Inside Andrew, there was a world of danger. Emma just hoped she’d be in Cricket Bend before it exploded. Until then, she’d mind the warnings and stay clear of him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bill
First light came, and with it Emma’s nervousness. When he’d returned to camp the previous night, she’d been teaching Pete and a few others how to play, and cheat at, cards. The men had hung on her every word. She’d been confident and sassy, the star of the show. As she woke, he noticed that all of her bluster had melted away. As Bill rose and rubbed his eyes, she sat wide-eyed on her bedroll twiddling a loose string on her shirt.
“Good morning.” He yawned and stretched.
“I’m not sure what’s good about it.”
“You’re alive, ain’t you?”
She glared at him. “Until I drown in a river a few hours from now.”
“Men have been crossing rivers on horses since there were men. And horses have been doing it since before that. You’ll be fine. Though, if you’ve changed your mind, you can cross in the wagon with Appie. No one’ll think less of you.”
“Except your father.”
“Except him.”
“I won’t give him the pleasure of thinking I can’t handle myself.”
From the look on her face, anything other than her crossing the river on Maggie’s back was simply no longer an option. With a sigh, she got to her feet and grabbed for her broom. It was a little bit out of her reach, and Bill stood up to hand it to her. Their hands touched as he held it to her, and even just the brush of skin on skin made him grin.
“What are you so happy about?” Emma grumbled as she hooked the makeshift crutch under her arm.
Bill couldn’t tell her what had really made him smile; that she’d kissed him the day before. Maybe she’d even want to again someday. He hoped she would, even if her mind was on anything else but kissing at that moment. “Should be a nice day. Good for a river crossing.”
“And maybe a funeral.”
Everyone ate a fast breakfast and packed up, knowing as soon as it was light that Josiah would sound the call to get moving. Appie shook his head when Emma declared her intention, but didn’t fight her for long, instead muttering comments under his breath about women being crazy.
Before the drive took off, before he rode to the front, Bill rode to her. She stood by Maggie, tightening the ropes that held the blanket on the mare. Though her skin had become tanned over the days spent outside on the drive, at the moment she appeared pale as a ghost.
“Anything else, boss?”
“Try not to drown.”
“Thank you for the sage advice.” Her attempt to glare at him failed, and she wound up wearing a shy smile.
“What?”
“Follow your own advice, Bill. I will be most unhappy if you drown.”
“And why is that?”
“’Cause I’m looking forward to kissing you again later tonight. Provided I survive this hellish ordeal.”
His heart thumped. Emma, damn bold woman that she was, had surprised him again.
“You’ll be fine. Just keep your head.” He squeezed her hand in his. Though protecting her was foremost on his mind, he couldn’t take her across the river. She was a grown woman, hearty and tough enough to make her place on their drive. “You can do this,” he said quietly. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
***
Emma
Bill’s reassurance calmed her. Emma tucked her journal into her bedroll in the wagon. It seemed the best place to keep it dry. She’d thought of keeping it on her person, maybe in her hat, but the wagon was full of things that would be destroyed if they were to get wet, and it would likely be a safer bet.
She mounted Maggie and reached down to stroke the horse’s neck. “Looks like it’s just you and me and two thousand longhorns, pretty girl. Easy as pie.”
“You ready?”
Looking up, she saw it was Josiah who had spoken. She wasn’t at all ready, but she also wasn’t about to hold up the operation and give him any chance to gloat. If he wanted her to ride across the river, good Lord she was going to.
“Maybe she’s scared, Pa.”