by Lough, Loree
If she could depend on her traitorous, pampered feet, she’d grab one of his canteens and run for the border. But logic quickly fizzled that thought. Even if she knew which way to go, he’d saddle his horse and catch up to her in no time. He’d been kind and gentle so far, but then, she hadn’t riled him, either.
You could try honesty for a change, you little ninny….
Maybe. Yes, that might just work. If she played her cards right, perhaps he’d offer her one of his canteens, or even loan her a dollar or two, provided her story was pitiful enough. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to pay him back.
Just listen to you! You’re turning into a little swindler, hardly better than Frank Michaels, himself! She’d come from hard and humble beginnings yet had never been tempted to steal or beg. Did having both sides of the law on her trail excuse her sinful thoughts? Kate didn’t think so. But she couldn’t risk putting this kindly cowboy in danger just to save her own skin.
The world began to glow with deep, purple light, indicating that the sun would soon rise. Kate rolled over in her crude bed. Not much time left to dream up a believable story, she told herself. Her stomach churned, telling her with each growl and grumble that the food the cowboy had shared last night hadn’t done much to ease her days-old hunger. Oh, for another bite of stale bread and salty beef!
The thought of eating made her think again about Etta Mae’s cook, Dinah, and her strapping husband—also Etta Mae’s manservant—Theodore. Dinah, who was Irish, and Theodore, who had been born in London, had moved to San Antonio by way of New York City and Chicago. With no children of their own, they were only too happy to treat Kate like a surrogate daughter. “Etta Mae told me about yer brutal da,” Dinah had said to Kate just a few months ago. “It does me old heart good, Katie-girl, that ye took the high road.” The older woman would always roll her eyes at the painted gals known as “Etta’s Girls.” “I know ye’d make more money doin’ what they do for a livin’, but, ah, the price ye’d pay to drop those extra coins into yer purse on payday!”
Kate had been proud of herself when that conversation had ended, but she didn’t feel that way now. But she had no one to blame but herself for the self-loathing swirling in her heart, for her own poor choices had put her on this tough and lonely road. She could only hope that smarter decisions in the future would put her back on the right road again.
Just then, the idea popped into her head so quickly, it was all she could do to keep from bolting upright and shouting, “Yes! That’s it!”
“Well, you gonna sleep all day?”
The sudden sound of the cowboy’s voice startled Kate, and she muffled her squeal in the bristly bedroll. Land sakes! She’d become a jumpy little wretch. Just because Frank Michaels was a brute and a beast didn’t mean this man would duplicate the torture he’d inflicted on her! Tossing the blanket aside, she got to her feet. “Do I smell coffee?”
“You do, but don’t get your hopes up—all I’ve got to go with it is jerky. And some more biscuits, if you’re tempted.”
“Sounds like manna from heaven.” She shook the dust from the blanket, then began folding it into a tidy square. “Anything I can do to help?”
In place of an answer, he looked at her feet. “Not limping much this morning, I see.”
She returned his friendly smile. “Amazing what food, water, and a good night’s sleep will do for a girl.” He didn’t need to know that she’d hardly slept a wink.
“Don’t know where my mind was last night,” he said, handing her a blue mug speckled with white. “Clean forgot to introduce myself.”
“I forgot a few things, myself,” Kate admitted as the sharp scent of fire-brewed coffee floated into her nostrils. She held out her right hand. “Dinah Theodore,” she said when he took it. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Josh. Josh Neville.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a wry grin. “So, where are you from, Dinah Theodore?”
It sounded odd hearing her new name spoken aloud that way. “Chicago, originally. Moved to San Antonio with my father, who worked for the railroad.” At least that last part was true.
His left brow rose slightly, the way Etta Mae’s always did when she caught one of her ladies in a fib. Maybe Kate didn’t have to worry about becoming a savvy liar, after all. But before the good-looking cowboy started asking about Chicago—questions she wouldn’t be able to answer, as the only thing she knew about the place was that Dinah and Theodore had been married there—she helped herself to the smallest biscuit. Tearing it in half, she returned the rest of it to the pie tin. “So, which way is Mexico?”
Josh pointed south. “It’s a four-day ride from these parts. I reckon it’ll take three to four times that long to walk the distance, and I don’t rightly know how you hope to get that far without a horse and food and water, or a coat and hat, especially wearin’ those things you call boots.”
Don’t let him see that you’re flustered, Kate, she commanded herself. And then, Stop calling yourself Kate! Later, while she trudged south, she could count the steps by chanting her new name and figuring out the facts about her new life, reciting them so they’d roll right off her tongue in response to inquiries. Why, she could even make up a song to help her remember that she’d left Kate Wellington in San Antonio to become Dinah Theodore! “Do you know where to find the nearest town?”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Well, as you so astutely pointed out, I’m in need of sturdier shoes.”
“You passed half a dozen towns between here and San Antonio. Why didn’t you stop at any of them for, uh, ‘sturdier shoes’?”
“I—I didn’t notice any towns.” Had she told him where she’d started her journey? Kate honestly couldn’t remember. If she hadn’t been terrified of running into Frank or one of his men, or someone with a silver star on his shirt, Kate might have risked stopping to ask a shopkeep if she could perform some menial chore in exchange for a used housedress, a pair of socks, and a hat to protect her head from the unrelenting sun. Right now, that was neither here nor there. “Can you recommend a particular road I should follow?”
“To get to Mexico, you mean?”
Kate nodded.
Josh waited a long time before answering, and she shifted uneasily under his intense scrutiny. Finally, he calmly refilled his coffee mug and said, “I didn’t get much sleep last night, so I had plenty of time to wonder: What in tarnation are you running from?”
5
The blood ran cold in Kate’s veins. They’d exchanged, what, a few dozen words since he’d found her cowering behind that boulder? How could he have taken her measure so quickly?
“Woman doesn’t just appear out of nowhere in the middle of the night, looking like she’s been wrestlin’ with a wildcat.” He paused and, shaking his head, exhaled a deep breath. “All I’m saying is, you’ll be defenseless out there all by yourself. If the critters and scorpions don’t get you, the two-legged animal who put you in that shape might.” He took a swig of his coffee. “I’m heading that direction, anyway, so it isn’t like I’d be going out of my way.”
Was he offering to let her ride with him? Surely, he wasn’t serious. But, if he was, what price would he extract for going to so much trouble?
“You’ve got my word: long as you’re with me, you’ll be safe.”
Except for Theodore—and, briefly, Frank—Kate had never really trusted a man in her life. Her father’s ongoing barroom brawls had ultimately been the end of him, and, after his death, her mama, desperate to put a roof over their heads, had married the first fellow to ask, then drowned the pain of his abuse in rye whiskey. Though the sheriff had called it a suicide, even the then twelve-year-old Kate had known that her stepfather was responsible for her mama’s death. He probably would have killed Kate, too, if he hadn’t figured out she was more useful as payment for a poker debt.
She hadn’t hung around long enough to find out if the bearded winner would bully her the way he bullied everyone else in town. Instead,
Kate had sold her mama’s cameo and stuffed her meager possessions into a pillowslip. In spite of the lies of a dozen deceitful young men who’d vowed to save her, she’d miraculously remained a virgin—until the night of the bank robbery. Did this stranger really expect her to believe she’d trust him just like that, simply because he gave her his word?
As if he’d read her mind, he said, “I can see you’re not too sure if I’m reliable or not. So, here are a couple of questions you should ask yourself.” Josh held up his forefinger. “First, what choice do you have?” He paused, and then his middle finger joined the first. “Second, how much worse could it be with me than it was with…”—he reached across the space between them to gently trace the still-tender bruise on her jaw—“with the pig who did that to you?”
It took every ounce of strength and willpower she could muster to keep from bursting into tears. Because like it or not—and she most certainly did not—the handsome cowboy was right. Tears prickled behind her eyelids. If she answered him now, they’d flow like rain from a downspout, and there was no telling when they’d stop.
“Seems to me, a gal who walked all this way knows how to take care of herself. Leastways, in most circumstances. But just in case you’re still not convinced,” Josh said, rummaging in his saddlebag and pulling out a gleaming, pearl-handled revolver, “you can shoot me if I step out of line.”
Well, that settled it. Either the man was out of his mind, or he was telling the truth.
Kate couldn’t think of a time in her life when she’d wanted—no, needed—to trust someone more. Slowly, she wrapped her hand around the grip of the revolver, and as she turned it this way and that to inspect it, he cautioned her, “It’s loaded, so you might want to take care where you aim it.”
The muzzle, she noted, had been pointed at his heart. Kate eased the gun into her lap as the irony of the situation provoked a giggle that started deep in her gut, then bubbled up and spilled out until it became breathy, full-blown laughter. The wanted poster in that little town said she’d committed armed robbery and cold-blooded murder, and yet, until this moment, she’d never even held a gun, let alone fired one! If he took the time to consider her sanity, chances were slim to none that he’d let her keep it after this display.
“Next town we come to is about half a day’s ride south,” he said, as calm as you please. “I’ll go into a store while you wait at the border with Callie. I’ll buy you a couple of skirts and shirts, a pair of boots that’ll hold up in the weather, a hat to protect your pretty hair from the sun….”
Wait at the town’s border? It could be only one of two things. Either he’d figured out that she was on the run from the law, or he was embarrassed to be seen with her. Kate could hardly blame him. Why, she’d seen drunks and scalawags who’d looked more presentable!
At this point, Kate couldn’t tell tears of mirth from tears of fear, frustration and confusion. Had he given a thought to how she’d repay him for his generosity? Maybe he had a lazy wife and ten boisterous boys waiting for him in Eagle Pass, and he planned to take her home to cook and clean until the debt was repaid. Kate doubled over with laughter at the thought, because Frank would never think to look for her in a place like that!
Surprisingly, the cowboy continued, as composed as any man had a right to be, considering the company he’d chosen to keep. “You’ll need your own blanket. And, can you ride?”
“A horse, you mean?” she managed to squeak out. Clearly, he’d decided to ignore her peculiar behavior. Maybe his wife was lazy and crazy, and he was accustomed to women behaving as if they’d gone completely mad. “Yes, yes, I can ride—”
“Then we’ll get you a horse and saddle, too.”
It seemed to Kate that he’d done more than just a little thinking last night. “You should know that I have nothing but the clothes on my back, such as they are.” Hands up in supplication, she suddenly felt quite serious. “I have no way to repay you,” she added.
Josh shrugged and topped off his coffee. “Haven’t been to church in a couple of years, so let’s just consider this the tithing I haven’t done.”
“Tithing—like I’m a charity case?”
“I hate to be blunt, but that’s exactly what you are.” He held up a hand to forestall any argument she might make. “A temporary situation, I’m sure.”
Then he did the strangest thing. He smiled. Smiled! And, because Kate had never been on the receiving end of a genuine smile—at least, delivered by a man other than Theodore—it touched her. Profoundly.
Maybe it was a sign that she really could start over with a brand-new name and begin a brand-new life. Hope glowed inside her for the first time in a very long while. Kate took a deep breath. “Thank you, Mr. Neville. This is by far the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“You can call me Josh,” he muttered.
She ignored the flush of embarrassment that colored his tanned cheeks. For now, she had to find ways to convince herself that Kate Wellington was dead and gone, and that, as Dinah Theodore, she had a chance to live a normal life.
Kate had never been particularly pious, but she knew how much she owed God, for He’d saved her. She owed a debt of gratitude to Josh Neville, too, though he hadn’t yet spent a penny on her.
6
The following afternoon, as they rode side by side, Dinah pointed west. “What are those mountains?”
“The Anacachos. Not the highest peaks I’ve seen, but a pretty view, just the same.”
“The view would be a lot prettier without those storm clouds.”
Josh nodded. He’d had his eye on the dark sky since just after sunup.
“How bad do you think it’ll be?”
Bad enough that we’ll be lucky to avoid lightning strikes, he thought. “If memory serves me correctly, there’s a little shack three or four miles ahead.” He hoped they’d make it that far before the skies opened up. “Can you cook?”
Dinah let out a soft, dainty laugh that eased into his ears like music.
“A little.”
He didn’t know how to read the grin that slanted her beautiful lips. It could have meant either that she mostly turned vittles into charcoal or that she’d picked up more than her share of kitchen skills along the way.
“How ’bout you?” she asked, quirking one well-arched brow.
Josh told her about the many times he’d manned the chuck wagon when his family hadn’t been able to find a cook to accompany them on cattle drives, and he admitted that his talents with trail food were limited to fried potatoes with canned beans and meat. “Never heard a complaint as the men walked away from the fire,” he said, grinning.
“Well, I have firsthand knowledge of your abilities with biscuits and beef jerky.”
She punctuated her comment with a merry wink that buzzed through Josh’s veins like a tiny lightning bolt. And when she winced and wriggled in the saddle, he asked, “Been a while since you sat on a horse?”
“I’ll answer that by asking if you have any liniment in that bag of tricks of yours.”
“I reckon I can spare a drop or two.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance, drawing Josh’s attention back to the heavens. And because even the smallest bonnet in the store had been too big for her head, Dinah’s hat caught a draft of wind and drifted up and then down to the ground. Josh brought his horse up, intending to fetch it, but she slid down from her saddle and grabbed it before he could even make the offer. In no time, she was back on the horse, tying a perfect knot under her chin.
“I was hoping not to need these bothersome ribbons,” she said, frowning slightly, “but unless I want this pretty cap to become a nest for a family of jackrabbits out there in the brush, guess I’d better use them.”
Chuckling, Josh shook his head. The girl had a knack for making the best of things, no doubt about that. Had a knack for looking pretty in even the plainest of clothes, too. Put that same dull, brown skirt and simple, white shirt on another woman, and the ensemble would loo
k downright dreary.
Hopefully, she’d keep looking straight ahead. Or up. Anywhere but into his face. For she’d surely wonder what thoughts had turned his cheeks as pink as a silly schoolgirl’s! It had been a long time since a woman had inspired such feelings in him. Two months shy of three years, to be precise. He blamed his mind-set on the tricky ride to San Antonio, when he’d been baked by sun and drenched by rain. On the heartbreaking reason he’d gone there in the first place. On the fact that his promise to deliver Dinah to the Mexican border meant adding a day, maybe more, to his already too-long trip, and the fact that he’d been dog-tired when he’d found her. Or, more accurately, when she’d found him.
Josh didn’t really regret his decision to accompany Dinah to Mexico. His brain never would have let him rest, wondering about all the awful things that might happen to her, alone in the middle of nowhere. Seeing her safely across the border would ease his conscience, and, maybe, as they traveled together, she’d learn that not every man she met up with wanted to use her as a punching bag. What kind of man would strike a woman? he wondered. Especially one so tiny and delicate and—
“So, Josh, who’s waiting for you at home?”
She’d caught him ruminating. Again. Tugging at his hat brim in hopes that it would hide yet another blush, Josh chuckled. “If I named them all, I’d talk myself hoarse.”
Dinah inhaled a breath so deep, it lifted both of her shoulders. “Oh, Josh, how I envy you!”
A boyhood memory surfaced from out of nowhere. Once, during a ride into town with Ma, the wind had caught hold of her favorite scarf. Billowing like a white sail, it had soared high into the sky, then fluttered like a wounded dove before settling to the ground. Halting the team, he’d jumped down from the wagon to fetch it, and, to this day, he felt bad about the way his callused hands had snagged the fine fabric.
He felt himself frowning because he couldn’t figure out why Dinah’s voice just now had reminded him of the soft, silky feel of his ma’s scarf.
