Her Rocky Trail_Seeing Ranch series

by Florence Linnington

  They both looked over to see Mr. Guthrie stepping out of the trees. His eyes were on Kitty, his mouth set hard. “Do you know what outlaws can do to a woman like you?”

  A shiver went up Kitty’s spine. “I can guess.”

  She’d been working all night long to keep herself from imagining such things happening to Helen.

  Mr. Guthrie nodded. “Right then. And you can stay quiet, keep up?”

  “Of course,” Kitty eagerly answered. She chanced a look at Cyrus, finding his face tomato-red.

  “Then let her come,” Mr. Guthrie told Cyrus. “She knows the risks.”

  Cyrus’ nostrils flared. “Fine,” he spat.

  With that, he stalked back to the camp.

  “Thank you,” Kitty breathed.

  Mr. Guthrie frowned. “I just want you to know this isn’t a game. Your sister might not even be alive anymore… And that might make her the lucky one.”

  Kitty’s blood turned colder than the river water. “I have faith, Mr. Guthie, and so does my sister. We believe God works all kinds of miracles.”

  “Hm.” He stared her down. “Just stay close.”

  Kitty gulped and nodded, following him to the camp, where the horses were ready to go.

  They rode out slowly, keeping single-file along the river. Kitty munched on a bit of jerky, but found her stomach couldn’t agree with more than a few bites. With the only sound being the horse’s steps, an eerie silence followed the group. Cyrus rode right in front of Kitty, his broad shoulders tense.

  What was he thinking? After everything that had happened between them, did he plan on retracting their agreement once Helen was found?

  Kitty couldn’t concern herself with that. All that mattered was getting Helen back in her arms. After that, the sisters could figure things out. They had been through hard times before. With God’s help, they always persevered.

  Entering an area where the bank widened, Cyrus pulled his horse back to ride alongside Kitty. She gave him a sharp look, preparing herself for whatever insult was to come.

  Cyrus opened his mouth, shut it; and cleared his throat. Kitty stared, waiting.

  Finally, he just shook his head and pulled ahead once more, leaving her perplexed.

  Behind her, someone chuckled. Kitty looked over her shoulder to find a young blonde man grinning. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Gotta keep our spirits up though, eh?”

  Kitty pursed her lips and said nothing.

  The morning grew hotter as they went on, the mist dissipating and making room for the relentless sun. Sweat ran down Kitty’s back, collecting deep within her dress. After a few hours of resisting the idea, she finally threw propriety to the wind and pulled her form-fitting jacket off. She tugged at her dress’s sleeves as well, managing to roll them up a little bit.

  The nicest dress she’d ever owned was sure to be ruined by the end of this journey.

  Abruptly, the horses halted. Kitty’s stopped fiddling with her dress to lean sideways in her saddle. At the front of the line, Mr. Guthrie climbed from his horse to inspect something on the ground.

  “What is it?” the young man behind Kitty asked.

  Mr. Guthrie frowned, bending down to grab something. When he straightened up, there was a scrap of blue fabric in his hand.

  Kitty’s heart nearly tumbled right out of her throat. She was out of her saddle and rushing toward Mr. Guthrie in an instant.

  “You recognize this?” he asked her.

  Kitty grabbed the fabric, rubbing it frantically between her fingers. She’d taken off her stained gloves hours ago, and feeling the cotton against her bare skin made her throat become thick with emotion.

  “This is from Helen’s dress,” she gasped.

  Boots hit the ground, and Cyrus appeared next to Kitty. “You’re sure?” he asked.

  She did not bother to look at him. “Yes.” She would recognize the fabric anywhere. She had been the one to select it and sew the dress for Helen.

  “Right.” Mr. Guthrie climbed back into his saddle. “Looks like we’re going the right direction.”

  Hope fluttered in her chest as Kitty rushed back to her horse. Silence enveloped the posse once more, but there was a new quality to it. Whereas before fear and uncertainty had filled the group, now there was hope.

  “What will happen once we find them?” Kitty asked a man when they stopped for a short break. Next to them, her horse rooted around in a sunny area, looking for the best grass to munch on.

  The man’s eyebrows pushed slightly together. “Hopefully God will be in our favor,” he answered, with what Kitty thought to be remnants of an Irish accent lacing his answer.

  Kitty looked over at where Cyrus stood with his back to her. She hoped he had some kind of plan for ambushing the kidnappers and taking Helen back. Animosity might have risen between the two of them, but she remembered well the expertise he’d outlined in his first letter to her. Over a decade in law enforcement in Texas, Ohio, and Dakota Territory. The last year spent as a personal guard in California.

  She might have had mixed feelings about the man, but that did not mean he didn’t know what he was doing.

  As if feeling Kitty’s eyes on him, Cyrus turned, their gazes connecting immediately. Kitty dropped her face, her cheeks burning. She should not have been ashamed to be looking at him, but for some reason she was.

  Likely he was used to female attention. With a strong body, wide chest, and thick hair the color of walnut shells, Cyrus Ross was…

  Kitty did not truly have a word for it. He was handsome, yes. If they still ended up marrying once everything was said and done, she’d likely be the envy of many a woman in Shallow Springs.

  Yet his personality—that certainly fell short. She doubted she would ever get over the resistance he’d presented her with.

  “Time to go,” Cyrus announced.

  The men all moved to collect their horses, and Kitty placed her hand on the gray thoroughbred’s neck.

  “You like my horse?” a familiar voice asked.

  She didn’t waste a look on Cyrus. “He is very gentle. What is his name?”

  He chuckled slightly. “I don’t know. Horse, I imagine.”

  Kitty couldn’t help herself. Whipping around, she glared his way. “Did you walk over here to taunt me?”

  His eyebrows briefly rose in surprise. “No.”

  “Are you not pleased with me, Mr. Ross? Because I am sorry I have not been presenting my best personality, but I do not see how you can expect me to.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled with a frown.

  Her jaw dropping, Kitty walked away. So that was how their time together would be. Without knowing it, she’d found herself pledging her life to a man who could not have an honest conversation to save his life.

  Well, then. At least no conversation was better than a negative conversation.

  Still, Kitty’s hands shook as she reached for the horse’s reins. She could not determine why she cared about what Cyrus thought.

  “Horse,” she muttered to the thoroughbred. “That is not a name. Do not worry,” she said patting the horse congenially, “ I will think of a good one for you.”

  As she put one foot in the stirrup, something bright and out of place on the ground caught her eye. Though the object was mostly hidden under twigs and fallen, green leaves, with the sun hitting it right, it could not be missed.

  Her breath catching, Kitty stepped from the horse and plucked up the blue scrap of fabric. Cyrus noticed what she held and stepped closer.

  “That’s from her dress?” he questioned.

  “Yes,” Kitty barely managed.

  “She’s leaving a trail.”

  The men all gathered around, wanting to get a look for themselves.

  “Clever,” one of them said.

  “We must be close.”

  “Even if they leave the river, we’ll be able to follow.”

  Kitty pressed the piece of Helen’s dress to her heart and closed her eyes. The men’s voices faded awa
y. Instead, she saw her sister, tearing off bits of her skirt or sleeve and dropping them to the ground when the outlaws weren’t looking.

  Smart, crafty, and brave Helen.

  At that moment, Kitty knew without a doubt that the two of them would find each other again.

  Chapter Eight

  8. Cyrus

  Chapter eight

  The two dropped dress scraps cheered everyone’s mood.

  Since the clues told him they were on the right path, Cyrus’ nerves were tenser than ever before. Any moment, they could stumble across the thieves. They had to be ready, prepared to shoot, or prepared to flee to safety.

  Looking over at Domino, Cyrus could tell he felt the same way. The man rode with his jacket open, his hand close to his pistol. Shooting a glance over his shoulder, Cyrus checked to make sure Kitty still rode in the middle of the posse—the safest spot.

  The river went down, then up, going along wide banks and narrow, closely-cut drop-offs. Every sound made the hair on the back of Cyrus’ neck stand up straight; every movement in the trees made him curl his fingers around his gun.

  They rode on through the afternoon, every pair of eyes searching the ground for more dress pieces and the surrounding area for any signs of the bandits.

  By the time the sun hung low in the sky, casting its last shadows across the land, they still hadn’t found any more signs of Helen.

  Near an ancient pile of boulders, a deer trail wound into the trees. Pulling his horse to a stop, Cyrus inspected it. Thin, but it was possible one rider at a time could make it through.

  Domino reached up and fingered a branch, probably thinking the same thing Cyrus was.

  “I’ll take a couple men and go down it,” he said. “Look for clues or snapped branches.”

  Cyrus nodded. If the robbers hadn’t gone in that direction, precious time would be wasted. There was no alternative, though.

  “What is happening?” Katherine asked, squeezing her horse into the spot between the two men.

  “Phelps, Butler.” Domino jerked his head toward the deer trail. “Come with me.”

  “They’re scouting down there,” Cyrus explained, then looked over his shoulder at the remaining men. “Everyone else, stay here. Look alive, though.”

  Katherine blanched but said nothing.

  “You might as well get off your horse,” Cyrus explained. “Stretch your legs. It’s going to be a while.”

  She clearly didn’t like that either but obliged, sliding gracefully to the ground. She’d pinned her hair back up sometime during the ride. It had looked much better down, Cyrus thought, with all the wild pieces trailing across her jaw and neck.

  He swallowed hard and got off his horse, leading it to a grassy patch in the woods. “Doesn’t look like much,” he commented, nudging the toe of his boot against a tuft of weeds.

  Still, it was better than nothing. The humans would likely starve long before the horses could.

  “How long will they be?” Katherine’s voice asked from behind him.

  Cyrus was surprised she’d followed. “Don’t know.”

  A pitiful sigh met his answer, and he turned around to give her a long look. “You’re not second-guessing your coming along?”

  “No,” she quickly answered, looking offended. The men left behind had spread out, going into the woods or down to the river. It was just Cyrus and Katherine—plus some horses.

  Suddenly, he felt sorry for her. Despite the pain in his rear, she’d been, this experience was something no one should have to go through.

  “She’s your only kin left, huh?”

  Katherine’s eyelashes fluttered in surprise at the question. “Yes. And… and where are yours?”

  Cyrus started to answer honestly, then caught his tongue between his teeth and thought better of it. “Around. Nowhere near here.”

  Katherine messed with the sleeves of her dress. Noting he watched, she dropped her arms at her side. “It is hot.”

  He nodded. Blast, he’d already run out of things to say. What was it going to be like once they were married?

  Suppressing a sigh, he looked in the direction of the empty deer trail. No shouts or gunshots had come down it, so at least they had that.

  “May I ask you a question, Mr. Ross?”

  His head snapped back toward her.

  “What inspired you to use a mail-order bride agency to seek out a wife?” Katherine’s eyes were wide and curious.

  Instead of answering her, he responded with a question of his own. “What made you do it?”

  “There are no prospects for me in Philadelphia,” she answered. If she was put-off by his answering a question with a question, she didn’t show it. “Who would marry a maid? Or, I suppose I should say, what man with a fine job and a piece of land would marry a maid?”

  Cyrus dropped his eyes to the forest floor, thinking about that. “I need a wife,” he said after a while. “And it seems easier making sure that’s all set up before I even get into Shallow Springs. I have a job there. A house. Why not a woman as well?”

  He lifted his face, piercing her gaze with his. Color filled her cheeks, but she kept unwavering eye contact.

  Cyrus smirked. “You’ll do well there.”

  “How do you know?”

  He noncommittally raised a shoulder. “I’ve heard about it from the retiring sheriff. Just seems like the place a girl such as yourself will be happy.”

  “Only if my sister is there to enjoy it with me,” Katherine softly answered.

  Cyrus removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t want to look at her face again and see the pain there.

  Only when he heard the sound of footsteps receding did he look up. He watched as she disappeared around the side of a boulder, leaving him alone.

  A heavy sigh left Cyrus, and he looked over at the gray thoroughbred. He’d bought it back in California, right before leaving for the trip.

  “What’s its name?” he quietly asked, mimicking Katherine’s voice. “Since when does a horse need a name?”

  The thoroughbred snorted at him. If Cyrus were the kind of person who believed animals understood English, he’d think the horse was offended.

  Putting his hat back on, he looked up and noted the time of day. Night would fall soon. If they were going to make camp, this spot was as good as any other.

  Leaving the horses, he found the men and gave them instructions for the evening. Fish. Set up camp. They were sheltered enough in the woods that they could likely get away with a fire. Just so long as it didn’t smoke too much.

  “We are camping here?” Katherine asked, standing up from the rock she’d perched on.

  “Uh-huh.” Cyrus eyed her, ready for the complaint.

  “It is so early.”

  “And the others aren’t back yet. No telling when they will be. Plus, here we can make a fire. You were cold last night, weren’t you?”

  Katherine’s lips twisted. For the first time, he noticed how full they were.

  “Right,” Cyrus said. “Thought so. You can get to work collecting firewood. Don’t go too far from camp.”

  “I know,” she answered in a surly manner.

  Cyrus felt an urge to smile, but stopped it just in time. Her forceful attitude was growing on him, but he couldn’t let her see that.

  She came back with a few good armfuls, and the men with some fish, plus a rabbit they’d snagged. Soon a little fire was roaring, the falling night doing a swell job of obscuring the smoke.

  Hunkering down in the dirt, Cyrus whittled sharp ends on sticks and made skewers for the rabbit meat. Katherine sat close by, watching him. A couple times he glanced over just in time to see her averting her gaze. A minute later, though, and he’d feel her eyes on him once more.

  Just as they laid the meat on the fire, soft voices floated through the woods. Cyrus reached for his holster, cocking an ear and listening intently.

  “It’s us,” Domino’s voice rumbled from somewhere in the dark trees
.

  Cyrus relaxed, standing by as the men rode their horses into the little camp and dismounted. In the flickering firelight, Domino’s eyes quickly cut to Katherine before he turned his attention to Cyrus. A simple jerk of his head meant he needed a word alone.

  Leaving everyone else behind, Cyrus followed Domino to the other side of the pile of boulders, close to the singing, dark river.