Texas Passion

by Sara Orwig

  “I fought under General Tecumseh Sherman.”

  A cold tremor run down her spine as she stared at him. “A Yankee? You have a southern accent.”

  “Yes. I’ve lived in Baton Rouge most of my life. My father, Charles, was from St. Louis, Missouri. My sentiments leaned with keeping the Union intact.”

  She felt caution building, knowing she had let his soft voice and his easy manner cajole her into relaxing her guard. Dan Overton was dangerous. She was as sure of that as she was certain she was in Texas.

  She twisted to look at him. “Pa and Elias fought for the Confederacy. We’re loyal Southerners.”

  He tilted her head up. “You’d still rather I rode out of here and left you alone, yet you wouldn’t have made it past that night when Lyman McKissick appeared.”

  She jerked her head away. “I know we’re indebted to you.”

  “Maybe someday, Red, I’ll lay claim to that debt.”

  “I’m married, Mr. Overton,” she said stiffly, her pulse jumping because of his statement.

  “You don’t even know if your husband is alive. You haven’t been with a man for years.”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re too much woman to live without love. You’re too responsive.”

  “You don’t know that!” she exclaimed, blushing at his boldness.

  He leaned closer. “Before the end of the trail,” he said, his voice dropping to a velvety softness that made her heart race, “I intend to know.”

  Shaken, she gazed up at him. He hadn’t touched her, yet her pulse was racing and she felt breathless. “Then you better have your pistol in hand!” she snapped, not wanting him to gain control, knowing he could see some of the reaction he caused.

  “Red, I’ve never forced a woman and I never will.”

  She knew he spoke the truth. With his looks and confidence he wouldn’t need force, yet there was a hurt locked inside him that made him tough. What in his past had put barriers around his heart? Her nerves felt raw, images dancing in mind of his hands moving competently at work, of Dan Overton’s bare chest, of his purposeful long-legged stride. “The woman who gives herself to you would be readying for trouble.”

  “How do you figure that? I’ve known some happy ladies.”

  Fighting the reaction he was causing in her, she wanted him to give her breathing room. “And I’m sure you’ve left some with broken hearts.”

  He leaned closer. “I won’t break yours, Red. You’ll give back as much as you get. With you, a man runs the risk of heartbreak.”

  Her heart thudded and she wanted to stop his speculation and challenges. “If someone else would come along the trail for us to travel with, you could ride on alone.”

  “But until other travelers appear, you’ll have to tolerate me,” he said in a dry voice.

  “I know I should be grateful to you, Mr. Overton—” She turned to look at him. “What was your rank?”

  “Major.”

  “Major Overton. I’m surprised you didn’t introduce yourself by major. Most officers go by their army title.”

  He shrugged. “It’s not of much consequence now. The war is over.”

  They became silent, and she could feel the tension curl between them. If he intended to rob them, he had already had opportunities. It was Pa he was after. Had he told the truth about his past? Had he fought for the Union? Or was he a bounty hunter? If he fought for the Union, he could be a United States Marshal after Pa. And he wanted her and was frank enough to tell her. Thinking about it made her feel fluttery.

  She turned her head on her knee, keeping her eyes almost closed and gazing at him through her lashes. He sat leaning back on his elbows, his long body stretched only a few feet from her. He was staring straight ahead, and her gaze drifted over his features. The thought of being held against his body, of his mouth on hers, jangled her nerves. It drove her physical awareness of him to a fever pitch. She suspected that if he kissed her, she would almost faint with pleasure. He looked like a man who could please a woman beyond her wildest imaginings.

  Her gaze ran down Overton’s chest, the low-slung gun-belt, and the big Colt. He handled the revolver and his rifle with ease and with the familiarity of a man accustomed to wielding a weapon. And he looked tough enough to kill without a qualm. Damned if she trusted him. She felt cold, afraid for Pa. She could sleep tomorrow when Pa and Abigail were awake.

  She sat up, inhaling deeply, but in minutes, her head nodded and she struggled to stay awake.

  After an hour, she could barely hold her eyes open. She tried to think about years past, tried to think about Robert and the last ball they had attended. Robert was becoming a blur in her memory. The hurt had diminished, replaced by so many others and by pressing worries. She put her head on her knees and closed her eyes. In minutes she sat up, blinking.

  “Why in blazes don’t you get some sleep? I’m not going to bushwhack your family,” Dan said with exasperation clear in his voice. “If I had wanted to steal from you or murder you and your family, I could have done it before now, Red.”

  “You have our Winchester. I want it back.”

  He shoved the rifle at her. “There. You have it back. Now get back to camp and get some sleep.”

  She stared at him, anger rising and banishing her drowsiness. “I didn’t ask you to ride with us. I have no intention of trusting you to watch my family.”

  “You did last night,” he replied in a deadly quiet voice.

  “I only dozed.” She turned away, staring into the dark. “Do you have a wife?”

  “No. I wouldn’t be drifting across Texas if I did.”

  The bitterness was so heavy in his voice that she turned to look at him.

  A drifter. A gambler. An expert with a rifle or revolver. A man who took what he wanted and had just said he wanted her. She wished they were in San Antonio and away from him.

  They became silent. Unable to stay awake, she dozed with her head on her knees. After a time she raised her head to look at him. He arched a dark brow in a mocking look, and she put her head back on her knees. He was right—she should go back to camp to sleep.

  He reached out, pulling her against his side. “Give it up, Red. Go to sleep. I won’t slit your throat in the night.”

  His arm around her was warm. His body felt solid and strong and she fit against him. She should move, but she sat in silence and then decided to stop fighting him for a while. She drew a deep breath, settled closer against him, and fell asleep.

  Dan looked down at her, knowing he shouldn’t touch her or hold her or keep her close against him. Each contact was kindling on a smoldering fire.

  Not since Solange had he had any emotional involvement with a woman and he didn’t want to start with this one. And he suspected that Rachel Benton Kearney Johnson—whatever her name—would cause an emotional involvement with any man who became physically involved. Or was it just her little brother Josh who worried him and tied him in knots? Dan thought about the boy and the little girl; he would do a lot to avoid hurting either of the children. He glanced down at Rachel asleep against him. He would not let the children keep him from doing his job. That’s why he didn’t want to know any of them any better than he did right now. If he had to take Eb Kearney back to Vicksburg to hang, he didn’t want to worry about the rest of the Kearney family.

  Were these people the Bentons or the Kearneys? As soon as he could get to a telegraph office, he would wire Vicksburg to see if he could find out about the marriage of Rachel Kearney to Elias Johnson, but he didn’t expect to get an answer. Vicksburg had been ravished by the war and records were probably gone.

  As the moon rose in the sky, Dan stretched out on the rock. Moving Rachel gently, he pulled her beside him. She curled against him, her knee sliding over his. He drew a deep breath, swearing silently at himself for taking her into his arms, yet wanting her. His body reacted, desire like a hot flame burning inside. He shifted, releasing her, turning on his side so his back was to her. He
settled his head on his arm and stared into the dark, his body throbbing for her, feeling her heat against his back.

  Dozing, he awoke in the first light of day. He sat up, rubbing his hand over his stubbly jaw and looking at Rachel.

  Lying on her side, she was curled up, her knees drawn up. He scooped a handful of thick tresses away from her face, pushing them back, looking at her thick red-brown lashes on her silky cheek. Her lips were pursed; ripe for a kiss. With a deep breath Dan turned away and slid off the rock.

  “Rachel.”

  She came awake at once, sitting up, looking dazed. Desire shot through him again as he looked at her sleepy-eyed gaze, her tousled hair and slight disarray that made him want to climb back up on the rock and make the disarray complete. Instead, he held out his hand.

  “It’s morning. Let’s get back to camp.”

  Ignoring his hand, she climbed down and strode through the grass. He grinned when he followed her, watching her bottom switch as she walked. Independent as a well-fed cat.

  Within the hour Eb hitched the team. Getting ready to start the day’s trek, Rachel walked around the wagon and at the back, Dan Overton blocked her path. His arm was stretched against the wagon, his other hand on his hip. His hat was pushed to the back of his head, dark strands of hair falling across his forehead.

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “What about?” she asked, feeling her heart miss a beat.

  “Around noon we should ride into White Falls. It’s a small settlement on the trail—mostly saloons.”

  “If they have a general store, I need some things,” she stated, aware of his nearness, of his long arm blocking her path.

  “They have a store. The settlement sprang up along the trail, but it’s a rough town of gamblers and drifters. Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it. You and your sister stay out of sight in the wagon and let your pa drive.”

  “Stop trying to run our lives!” Dan Overton was taking over more and more each day he spent with them. She felt threatened by him, terrified that he would hurt Pa. Every order he gave disturbed her and made her want to be free of him even though he appeared to be kind and helpful. “I’ve come all the way from Vicksburg dressed like a boy, and no one has paid any attention to me in towns where I’ve been.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Look, I’ve saved you twice now, Mrs. Johnson. Why don’t you cooperate before you get into something I can’t get you out of? And as for that boy’s clothing—only a three-year-old kid would be fooled. Now for your family’s sake and your own good, you do what I tell you, Red,” he said in a menacing voice.

  Feeling the anger crackle in the air between them, she drew a deep breath and brushed past him.

  In minutes they were on the trail and for the rest of the morning Dan Overton rode in sight ahead of them. As Rachel stared at his straight back, she wondered if he was staying close because of yesterday, or if he just saw no reason to ride ahead. As they traveled slowly with the sun hot on her shoulders, she turned to her father.

  “Pa, I want to get away from Mr. Overton before we ride into San Antonio.”

  “The man’s been good to us. I trust him.”

  “I don’t,” she answered flatly, staring at Dan Overton’s broad shoulders. “I don’t trust him at all. He could be a U.S. Marshal and just waiting until we get to San Antonio.”

  Eb turned to stare at Dan. “Seems as if he’s been mighty good to us to turn around and do something like taking me in.”

  “He may just be waiting to get to a big town. Or he could be a bounty hunter,” she said, afraid there was a price on her father’s head. “Pa, before we get to San Antonio, I want to get away from him. I want to slip some laudanum into his coffee after dinner the night before we reach town. The next day we can ride ahead to San Antonio, because he might be able to track us. Once we’re in a town as large as San Antonio, we’ll have a head start on him. We can get supplies and get out of town, settle somewhere, and he won’t know where we’ve gone.”

  “Rachel, he seems like a good man.”

  “Pa, he’s Major Overton from the United States Army. He fought under Tecumseh Sherman.”

  Pa turned to look at her, his blue eyes looking sorrowful as he nodded his head. “Very well, Rachel. Whatever you think we should do.”

  “I’m not going to tell Abigail or Josh.”

  “Rachel, do you think we can get along even for a few miles without Dan Overton?”

  “We’ll manage, Pa,” she said, feeling relieved to know that they could be free of Overton. By this time tomorrow Major Dan Overton would be out of their lives forever.

  Midday Dan Overton turned back to ride near the wagon, reining his horse to ride alongside her.

  “We’re coming to White Falls. Tell me what you need. Eb and I will stop, and I’ll get the supplies. As soon as we can, we’ll get out of town.”

  “We need some flour, bacon, twine.” She listed the things she had had to leave behind in the store in Fort Worth. “I want another revolver for Abigail and one for Josh.”

  “Neither of them know how to use a gun, and if they can’t hit the side of the wagon, it’ll be more dangerous for them to be armed. I can’t purchase guns in White Falls. It’s saloons and a livery stable and little else.”

  “I want them to learn how to use a pistol, and the only way they can learn is by practicing.” Was he telling the truth? Or did he have his own reasons for wanting two less guns in their possession?

  “Buy weapons in San Antonio.”

  They became silent, and Dan urged his horse ahead. Wearing a blue chambray shirt and denim pants, he sat tall and straight, and she wondered about his war years. A major under the hated Sherman who had pillaged the South. She felt a flash of anger toward the Union who had caused them so much grief, who had taken Green Arbor, and caused them all to become fugitives. Tears over what they had lost wouldn’t help; nor would pining for days long gone.

  When they rode into White Falls, she wondered where the town got its name, because there was only a small creek wandering along east of town. She peered out of the wagon, looking at men lounging in front of saloons, men crossing the road, men on horseback. There were a dozen houses, a blacksmith, a livery stable, a barbershop, a general store, and five saloons. It wasn’t much of a town and she felt uneasy, wanting to get their supplies and move on. She didn’t see any women and glanced back at Abigail who held Lissa on her lap and combed her tangled locks. Abigail looked unconcerned; Rachel hadn’t wanted to frighten her, so she hadn’t warned her to stay out of sight.

  She watched Dan Overton dismount and stride into the general store. In minutes she heard a deep voice outside and realized a man was talking to Pa.

  “Where are you headed?”

  “San Antonio.”

  “You have just one wagon traveling alone? Dangerous way to travel.”

  “Others are coming. We got ahead of them.”

  “Yeah? Big wagon, you’ve got there.”

  She saw Pa climb down and she could see his hat and the back of his head as he stood beside the wagon. “What’s a good place to get some food?”

  “Across the street at the Blue Rooster. Only place to get food. That big wagon of yours ought to carry quite a lot of supplies.”

  “It can. I intend to settle, build a house. I’m bringing my things. I won’t be going back.”

  “Takes money to settle like that,” the man said with speculation in his voice that made Rachel’s skin prickle.

  “That’s not what I heard,” Pa stated clearly. “I thought a man could get started out here on hard work alone.”

  “What would it take for a man to get a look in that wagon?”

  “There’s nothing to see.”

  Rachel picked up the Colt and tugged the hat down on her head, the thick braid of hair looped and pinned on her head beneath the hat. She looked at Abigail and motioned to her to be quiet.

  Rachel shifted, moving so if the man looked inside, he might not see her. Suddenly
Abigail screeched. Rachel turned as a man climbed up on the back and reached inside the wagon to take Abigail’s arm.

  Chapter 6

  “Afternoon, pretty missy—”

  Rachel stood up and aimed the Colt at him. “Get out, mister.” she said, lowering her voice.

  “Hey, boy! Watch that! You could get hurt pulling a gun that way. The lady is welcome to get out and walk around in the sunshine. We don’t get many real pretty ladies here,” he said, smiling at Abigail before he stepped down.

  Rachel turned around and listened for the sound of Pa’s voice. She moved to the front of the wagon and couldn’t see him or hear him. Worried she leaned out of the wagon. He was out of sight, and she knew he hadn’t planned to get out of the wagon. Alarmed, she climbed up on the seat. “Abigail, I’m going to look for Pa.”

  “Do you think you should?”

  “I’m worried about him.” She had nowhere to conceal the Colt if she took it with her, so she handed it to Josh and climbed down. A man leaning against the wall of the general store glanced at her and looked away, spitting a wad of tobacco juice at the ground. She looked up and down the street. Where was Pa?

  Had Pa gone inside the general store to talk to Dan? She opened the door, her gaze scanning the large room filled with goods. Skillets and tools hung from the ceiling. Dan Overton stood with his back to her as he paid for purchases. Two other men were in the store, but Pa wasn’t one of them. She closed the door and looked around.

  “Hey, kid. Where’s that big pistol?”

  The man who had looked into the back of the wagon stood only yards away, his hand on the butt of the pistol in his holster.

  “Rachel,” Pa said behind her.

  She glanced around at him. “Pa, where were you?”

  “I just stepped into the saloon a moment. The man kept talking, and I wanted to get him away from the wagon.”