Texas Passion

by Sara Orwig

  As he caught up and rode beside it, the bay slowed. Finally Dan reached over to yank on the bridle. The horse stopped, shuddering, shaking it’s head and throwing lather over Dan. Dan dismounted, adjusting the bay’s bridle and bit. Josh climbed down and ran to the wagon to scramble up and cling to Rachel.

  Eb had stopped the team, and now the family hovered over Josh. Glancing at him, Dan mounted again and caught up the reins leading the bay back to the wagon. “Here’s your horse.”

  Everyone turned to look at him, and then Rachel glanced back at Josh who was pale. Josh shook his head. “No, sir. I don’t want to ride now. My arm hurts.”

  “Let’s see where it hurts,” Dan said, taking Josh’s outstretched arm and feeling it gently, bending his arm.

  “My side hurts too.”

  “You probably hurt your ribs.” He probed gently, feeling Josh’s small frame. The boy drew a sharp breath. “I don’t think you hurt anything too badly.” Dan jumped down off the wagon. “Sunrise is quiet now. Get back on him, Josh.”

  “I don’t want to ride.”

  “It won’t get any easier if you wait,” Dan said. “He’s quieted down and he’ll obey you.”

  Rachel looked at Josh’s white face and round eyes. He had a cut on his cheek and a cut on his hand. His arm was scraped and bloody. As he bit his lip and looked at the horse, she wanted to interfere, to tell Josh he didn’t have to obey Dan Overton. Looking at the uncertainty in his eyes, knowing that he had a father who was uncertain day after day, she kept quiet.

  “I’ll ride beside you,” Dan said gently, “and you’ll be all right.”

  Josh nodded and took a deep breath, climbing past Rachel. Dan helped him down into the saddle. The bay shuddered and shook his head, jingling the bridle, but he turned quietly as Josh took the reins. Rachel held her breath as Josh rode ahead of them again. Dan rode at his side, and in minutes Eb flicked the reins and the team started up behind them. After a dozen yards, Josh looked up at Dan and smiled and Dan reached over to give his shoulder a squeeze.

  She felt a twist inside. For all her fiery arguments and clashes with Dan Overton, he was good to her family. He had just saved Josh from a runaway and helped him get his courage back. Josh trusted him now and looked up to him. What would happen to Josh if she was right and Dan Overton betrayed that trust and arrested Pa?

  She stared at Dan’s wide shoulders, wondering about him. What kind of man was he? She had a feeling they weren’t seeing the real man. Was he a drifter and gambler as he said? Or was he a lawman or a bounty hunter? She hadn’t known any man like him; she didn’t understand him. She was still suspicious and fearful of his motives in riding with them.

  Finally they stopped at twilight, only the last light of day illuminating the prairie. Wind whipped across the land, buffeting her. Her gaze swept over Dan; his tall stature gave him the air of command. His denim pants and boots were dusty and he had a faint dark stubble of beard on his jaw.

  “No fires,” he said, striding back to them to help unhitch the team. He moved close to Eb. “I don’t see anyone, but I think someone’s following us.”

  Rachel felt a chill across her nape at the solemn tone of his voice. His gaze swung to her. She tugged at the harness and moved closer to him as Pa led one of the horses away.

  “You always discuss the problems with Pa, but you might as well tell me, because Pa doesn’t make decisions much anymore.”

  “I know that,” Dan Overton answered quietly. “But he never will again if you don’t give him a chance.”

  She looked up, suddenly feeling grateful to him for his treatment of Pa. “You’re good to him.”

  “Has he been this way all his life?”

  “No,” she answered, thinking about Pa. The moment the word was out of her mouth, she wondered if Dan Overton was asking because he was after Pa and trying to decide whether or not he had found Peter Benton. She faced Dan’s dark gaze squarely. “No. The war, losing Mother, his illness, all changed him,” Rachel replied quietly, feeling the old hurt come. “I hope out here he will forget some of the pain he’s suffered.”

  “If he hasn’t been that way all his life, maybe he won’t stay that way.”

  “Major—”

  He leaned closer. “It’s Dan. I don’t want to go by major. I’m ready to forget the war. Now say Dan.”

  “That’s far too familiar, Mr. Overton.”

  He glanced beyond her, and she realized they were where the others couldn’t see them because of the team and the wagon. He slid his arm along the horse’s withers and moved closer. She felt like taking a step backward, yet she stood her ground. Her heartbeat speeded as she gazed up at him.

  “We’re familiar enough, Rachel,” he said, tilting up her chin. “I’ve kissed you, and you kissed me back.”

  “Maybe that was a slip once. We aren’t going to be on familiar terms.”

  He caught her around the waist. “My name is short and simple, so easy to say unless you’re determined to be mule-stubborn.”

  “Someone might see us.”

  “They might,” he drawled in a lazy tone as if he didn’t care. He leaned closer.

  “No! Mr. Overton—”

  “Dan,” he insisted, his lips brushing hers.

  Rachel felt as if she might melt. Her hands came up against his chest. “No,” she whispered. When she met his gaze, her eyes closed.

  “Say my name, Rachel. Say Dan,” he commanded.

  She felt breathless and she wanted his kisses. “Dan, please—”

  He released her. It took a second’s delay before she realized his arm was gone. Her lashes raised, and he was watching her. Her face flamed with embarrassment. She had been waiting for his kisses! Blatantly tilting her mouth up for his! All he had wanted to do was to get his way. And how easily she had succumbed! “You scoundrel!”

  “Calm down, Red,” he drawled quietly. “There’s nothing I’d rather do,” he said quietly, “than kiss you long and hard, but you’re right. Someone will see us.”

  Her heart pounded with his words that were as tantalizing as a kiss. Feeling flustered and uncertain, she drew a deep breath and turned away. He wasn’t like the boys at home she had known when she was sixteen. He was complicated, tough, and arrogant. And he carried his own scars and hurts, hiding them behind the toughness. He made her feel hot and nervous and uncertain. He made her want his kisses and now he knew the effect he had on her. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she led one of the horses away from the wagon. Pa picketed them while she turned to help Abigail get out the baskets of food.

  Dan spread blankets on the ground. He hunkered down to open a bag of apples he had purchased in White Falls. Josh walked up to him, standing and looking at him. To her amazement, Josh reached out to hug him.

  “Thank you for stopping Sunrise.”

  Dan Overton slipped his arm around Josh and gave him a squeeze. “You’re welcome,” he said gruffly.

  Josh leaned back. “I’m glad you’re with us,” he said.

  Dan looked at Josh with a momentary flash of pain in his expression. It changed to a frown, and he stood up abruptly. “Get an apple for everyone,” he said tersely, moving away.

  Rachel stared after him, looking at hurt replace Josh’s smile. With his lips clamped together, he knelt to get out apples. She stared at Dan Overton’s back as he crossed to the horses. Once again she had seen the tough, harsh side to him. Had he been angered by Josh? Or did guilt plague him that he was after Pa while Josh liked and trusted him? Or was he just tough and cold and hard, not caring about a boy’s trust and love? One moment Dan Overton seemed warm and caring, the next he seemed formidable and dangerous. The only thing she knew for certain—she did not trust him.

  As she spread food on a blanket, Dan Overton sat down nearby. “We’re in Comanche territory,” he said solemnly. As his dark gaze rested on her, she felt a ripple of apprehension.

  “Will we be safe stopping?”

  “As safe as you’d be on the move.
That won’t matter.”

  With a glance at the prairie, she motioned to Josh to help and in minutes they had a cold repast spread before them.

  No breeze stirred and heat was oppressive; tomorrow would be scorching. Her hair was hot on her neck. She was more aware than ever of Dan Overton. Since he had kissed her, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t forget his presence. She noticed him constantly and when he caught her looking at him, she could feel the heat rise in her cheeks.

  Seated on blankets, they talked after supper while the moon rose high in the sky and shed a silvery brilliance on the land. They camped near a solitary cottonwood tree; the land was flat, stretching away in all directions. She felt exposed out on the open prairie, yet at the same time, she realized no one could slip up unnoticed on them. Dan faced her while Pa leaned against a wagon wheel. It wasn’t until long after dark that she realized Dan Overton kept his rifle in hand all evening long.

  Lissa had finally fallen asleep on Rachel’s lap. Lissa’s thumb was in her mouth, while her other hand held Rachel’s thick braid.

  Shifting Lissa to the blanket next to hers, Rachel looked down at the sleeping child. She smoothed Lissa’s curls from her face and brushed a light kiss on the top of her head. Rachel looked up to find Dan still watching her. A few feet beyond her Josh had stretched out and fallen asleep while they talked.

  “It’s hot tonight, even out here in the open,” Dan said, glancing around. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. Watching the ripple of muscles as he moved, Rachel’s mouth became dry. Moonlight splashed on his strong shoulders, reminding her how it felt to be held in his arms.

  She looked over her shoulder, wondering if Dan Overton had heard something, but nothing was moving. She pulled her heavy braid over her shoulder and began to undo it.

  “How many times have you ridden this trail?” Eb asked him.

  Dan shrugged. “Probably half-a-dozen. All before the war. I haven’t been west since the war until now.”

  Rachel worked free strands of her braided hair and combed through them with her fingers, feeling the locks fall in waves. She looked up to catch Dan Overton watching her and suddenly she felt shy, as if she were undressing in front of him instead of merely taking down her hair. She shook her head, tossing the thick mane behind her shoulders.

  “This is a harsh land,” Eb said softly. “A frontier that will probably keep expanding. Your Kiowa brothers don’t find it harsh.”

  “It’s home to them. I grew up in a city, but I feel more at home here.”

  “How can you?” Abigail asked, looking up at him. “Don’t you miss the balls and parties?”

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a faint smile. “No, I don’t. I think those mean more to ladies than to men.”

  “You don’t like to dance?” she persisted, studying him and sounding disappointed.

  He looked at Rachel. “Yes, I like to dance if it’s with the right partner. Otherwise, not particularly.”

  Rachel felt ensnared in his steady gaze, knowing she should look away, yet unable to stop gazing back at him. What would it be like to dance with him?

  “Rachel likes to dance. Pa likes to dance.”

  “I did,” Eb said. “My dancing days are over.”

  “I’ll bet they never have dances out here!” Abigail said.

  “Yes, they do,” Dan stated with amusement. “People are the same wherever they settle. If you live in San Antonio, you can even go to balls. They have fiestas, fandangos, all kinds of dancing. If you live in the country, they’ll get together for dancing.”

  “What’s a fiesta and a fandango?”

  “A fandango is a Spanish dance. A fiesta is a celebration with food and dancing and singing and music. San Antonio has them often.”

  Abigail brightened. “You hear that, Rachel? When we get to San Antonio, can we go to a fiesta? Is everyone allowed to go?”

  “If the town is having one, you can go,” Dan answered.

  “Will you go with us?”

  He smiled, glancing again at Rachel, and she caught her breath. Why did even a glance take her breath? Why did the slightest look make her remember again and again the moments by the creek? Robert had never had this fiery effect on her. She had loved him, wanted to be with him, but she hadn’t noticed any change in her pulse because of his glances or his presence.

  Worse, she didn’t want this kind of reaction to a dangerous man like Dan Overton. To a man she didn’t fully trust.

  In another half hour, Abigail stretched out on her blanket to Rachel’s right. “I’m sleepy. Night Pa, Rachel. Night, Dan. I’m glad you’re with us,” she said softly. “I’m not as scared.”

  “Good,” he answered easily. “I hope my presence isn’t really needed.”

  Rachel glanced at Abigail. When had she started calling him Dan? She had noticed from the first few hours that whenever they stopped traveling Abigail followed him around the camp and talked to him every chance she got. If he noticed, he didn’t give any indication, but always sounded courteous with her.

  She looked at her father who leaned back against the wagon. “I’ll stand the first watch, Pa, so you can get some sleep.”

  “Your father and I can stand watch first,” Dan Overton said quietly, and she turned to look at him. “Get your rest. You may need it later.”

  Her gaze went past him to the darkness beyond them. Moonlight glistened on a sea of grass that stretched away endlessly. No one could approach without warning, yet Dan Overton was watching for trouble.

  “I want a drink of water and I need some privacy,” she said, getting up.

  “Take your revolver,” Dan said, and she nodded, picking the Colt up. She moved to the water cask and dipped a tin cup into it to drink and then walked around behind the tree to relieve herself. She stood gazing over the plains to trees in the distance. What was worrying Dan Overton? He hadn’t spent previous nights with rifle in hand all evening long.

  In minutes she returned to join the men who sat quietly. It was a sweltering night, heat still radiating from the ground in spite of the hours of darkness. Rachel lifted her hair off her neck, holding it up a moment and then letting it fall in a cascade. She removed her boots.

  As he watched her take down her hair and pull off the boots, Dan felt hotter than ever. She unfastened the buttons at the neck of the cotton shirt and his imagination pulled the shirt away. As she stretched out, his gaze raked over her. With an effort he tore his attention from her, looking at the land. “Your son-in-law raises cattle?”

  There was a momentary pause. “That’s what he said he was going to do,” Eb finally answered. “That’s what I hope to do. I don’t want to be a burden to my children. I already am to Rachel. She takes all the responsibility,” Eb said, and Dan detected a note of sadness in his voice.

  “She said you fought in Tennessee.”

  “Yes. I served under General Bragg. I fought near Chattanooga.”

  “You fought at Missionary Ridge?” Dan asked, knowing what a disastrous battle that was for the Confederates. Had Eb been with the men who ran and abandoned the fight?

  “I kept my men there when we should have gone with the others,” Eb said, gazing into the distance, his voice changing and Dan wondered if Eb was thinking aloud, forgetting that he was talking to him.

  “What rank were you?” Dan asked, knowing Peter Benton had been a major.

  “Major. We held on like the South held on. Hopelessly. We needed Chattanooga. I was wounded in the throat. That cost my voice. We finally had to surrender.”

  Dan drew a deep breath, feeling a stab of guilt. He felt certain he was sitting next to Peter Benton. The moment they reached San Antonio and the family had a place to stay, he would send another telegram and try to learn whose child Lissa actually was. He had known Peter Benton had been a major in the Confederacy and imprisoned in Chicago, released at the war’s end and returned home. He hadn’t known Major Benton had tried to hold Missionary Ridge when most of the Confederates f
led. And had been wounded in his efforts. Eb Kearney had fought like a valiant warrior; the indecisiveness he showed now could be the outcome of Missionary Ridge or the Chicago prison.

  Dan ran his hand along the smooth barrel of his rifle, thinking about Eb fighting for the South, holding out against impossible odds. Neither of the Eubanks had fought in the war. What had they done? Had they been acquiring land and money while men like Eb Kearney fought bravely? Dan looked into the darkness and wanted to swear. He hated the task before him and he was angry with himself for getting to know Eb Kearney, for getting involved with the family, for letting his heart go out to Josh. And the biggest reason of all that he had been blinded and pulled into their circle was sleeping only yards away.

  He thought about the moments at the creek when he had kissed her. Just the memory of holding her could set him on fire. It had been so long since he had held a woman and really cared about her. And now if he held Rachel or loved her, he would compound the terrible hurt he was going to inflict on her when he arrested Eb. He stood up abruptly. “I’ll be back,” he whispered tersely. He moved away, walking around the sleeping family, avoiding glancing down at Rachel, yet intensely aware of her.

  He circled the wagon, standing a long time on the other side of the tree and studying their surroundings. Someone had followed them during the day, and he felt someone was still out there somewhere. White Falls had been full of tough men and a lone wagon was an easy target. One wagon with two beautiful women. That would tempt many. There were two children to sell and many would speculate that the Kearneys carried valuables.

  He stared across the prairie, feeling a faint breeze. Eb Kearney was Major Benton who had made a courageous last stand in Tennessee. He had spent years in a terrible prison and gone home penniless to find his wife dead and the family in dire circumstances.

  Dan inhaled deeply, wanting to swear, to avoid doing what he knew he had to do. No matter how brave or how battered by war, Peter Benton had killed a man and broken the law and he had to go back and face a trial.

  Clenching his jaw shut Dan returned, walking around the sleeping family, his gaze raking over Rachel. She slept on her back, one arm across her middle, the other flung out. Her hair was spread behind her head except for a lock across her cheek. Dan’s gaze traveled down the length of her, imagining her without the denim pants and cotton shirt, imagining her pale flesh.