“Don’t make a stupid move and you might live to fill out your army uniform,” he sneered.
Casey quickly twisted and turned from the soldier’s hold and retrieved his gun. “Sorry,” she said before she knocked his lights out. Hunter could see she wasn’t happy that she had to knock out the soldier and the trouble that would cause him. Shaking her head, she took his hand, telling him that there was no time for regrets, and that he came first.
“Shush,” Casey placed a finger to her lips and Hunter nodded still uncertain that he still wasn’t dreaming. His sister had done some foolish things in her life but this took the cake; they’d both be in deep horse dung if they were caught. But now was not the time to tell her that fact. He would have preferred to have taken his chances and kept her out of trouble but trouble seemed to follow Casey anyway. Another family trait.
With only one sentry posted at the gate, Hunter managed to knock him out and lead them out to the safety of the dark night.
TEN
“What!?” Blake bellowed upon hearing that the prisoner had escaped and the girl was also gone. His head still buzzed from drinking himself into a stupor the night before and regretfully, he discovered that half a bottle of booze didn’t relieve the ache in his loins.
It was late in the day now and he had only himself to blame for being drunk so long. He raked his hand angrily through his thick hair, probably adding more damage to its unkempt appearance. Hellfire! She made a fool out of them all. Well, she won’t get away with it.
“Did you send out a search party?” He leaned back on his heels and closed his painful eyes. A moment later he opened to see the lieutenant looking up, his brows drawn in confusion. “Why would I? Didn’t you say I was to release him after tonight?”
Blake nodded gloomily and felt like an ass. Yes, it was only temporary but dammit to hell! That girl risked her foolish neck to help her brother escape for nothing. Well, she believed she had a purpose, but no matter, that was a mote excuse now. Oh, his head began pulsating.
What was that saying about a tangled web? Well, the hell with her and good riddance. Damn that sweet kiss!
He paced.
Hell no! She wasn’t going to get away with this! He pounded a fist into a palm and winced. It was the principle, he told himself. No one puts one over on him. His tangled web was becoming a knot.
Lieutenant Shepherd stood, shuffling papers into a satchel and asked, “Remember the wire I received last night?”
Blake frowned and then nodded feeling as if his brain was still full of cobwebs.
Shepherd sighed. “Well, I have very good news; it seems Robert E. Lee surrendered to Grant at Appomattox Court House, in Virginia yesterday. This damn war is over and my men and I have been ordered back to Georgia. Things are in total chaos right now, but I’m sure many of the prisoners of war will be released. Let’s just say he got his freedom a little early and let it go.” He shrugged. “Most of my men have been celebrating and are in no better shape than you.”
He grinned, galling Blake even more. With a few choice words, he sat heavily in a chair. Shepherd might be right, but he was made a fool of by that little snip of a girl and it stuck in his craw; he wasn’t about to let it go that easily. Besides, she owed him something and he was determined to collect. Right now, he was more concerned with evening the score with Casey than her brother. Though Blake didn’t believe in slavery, the kid only made one foolish mistake as far as he was concerned and the truth of the matter was that there wasn’t any score to settle with Hunter. It was just the kid’s luck that he had to be caught by Davis Pits. The man was on a personal vendetta and they were both tangled up in the mess.
He leaped from the chair, ignoring the spinning room. “I’m going after her.” He shook the confused officer’s hand and left like a shot. As he exited the office, he noticed the sun low in the sky and there was no sense in going until daybreak. They had a good start, but he knew they couldn’t get far riding double and he could catch up with them in a day or so. He was sure they left tracks a blind man could follow on a rainy night. Blake chuckled to himself; he was the best tracker around thanks to his Apache friend, Star Gazer.
Later, much later, Blake couldn’t get to sleep, so he rose and decided that the hair of the dog might be what he needed to get some decent shut eye. He bought a bottle at the trading post and walked up the catwalk. Gray clouds drifted by covering the moon and a sentry sat on the walk, snoozing. He didn’t disturb the young soldier and sat on the edge of the wall, taking a swig. It burned his throat.
“Hello,” someone called from behind. He recognized the interesting voice as Sharon’s, and he turned. She was a dark beauty and under other circumstances, he would’ve loved to stay to get to know her better. “Can’t sleep?” she asked the obvious.
Blake nodded. “Yer might say that.” His greeting was a husky whisper.
“Might I join you?” A faint light twinkled in the depths of her dark eyes, as she nodded at the bottle in his hand. He arched an eyebrow indicating his surprise, making her laugh gently at his bemused expression.
“You think because I’m a lady I don’t enjoy a little spirits?” She reached for the bottle and he handed it to her. She took a swig and coughed. “It get’s mighty boring out here sometimes,” she offered an explanation as she took another sip. “My brother tells me that you were quite upset to hear that the young prisoner and his sister left without saying good-bye.”
Sharon bantered in a relaxed manner and Blake was casually amused, but he chuckled with a dry and sardonic sound. “Yep, I don’t like being made to look the fool.” He looked up at the heavens and exhaled an exasperated breath as if it would help in the frustrating situation. It didn’t. She placed the bottle on the ledge and gazed at the sky herself.
“It’s beautiful out here. I have to admit to that, but I do miss my home. Walter and I are from Florida. Our parents own an orange plantation and from the wire we last received, the war didn’t reach my home. I’ll be glad to get back even thought it gets mightily hot in Barefoot Bay, but the winter months can be beautiful. Beside I haven’t had a decent glass of orange juice in along time.”
Blake studied her profile, peering at the pretty woman intently. Her nose was exquisitely Grecian. He turned away; she was too tempting and if he didn’t want to spend time in the brig, to rot, he’d better get rid of his carnal thoughts. He cleared his throat and asked, “How did your brother and you get mixed up in the damn war?”
Sharon shrugged. “My older brother joined and was killed, so Walter joined right after that. It upset my parents terribly and I had to promise to look after him. When he made lieutenant and was stationed out here, I came to keep my promise.”
Blake sighed. “You love you brother very much.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, we’re twins as you know, there’s a special bond between siblings sharing the same womb.”
“Sis! Are you up there?” She peeked over the side at Walter. “Yes, dear.”
“Come on down, we have an early start in the morning.”
“All right dear.” She placed a chaste kiss on Blake’s cheek. “Casey is a lucky woman. You love her.”
It was definitely not a question. He was too shocked to utter a sound.
Love? Her? Not in a million years!
ELEVEN
Casey believed Blake might come after them and he wouldn’t be easily fooled. They had come upon a stream where she and her brother dismounted and walked a few miles in the water hoping to confuse the cowboy. Wild flowers hugged the banks and she wished she had time to gather some. She didn’t know how far they traveled but she and Hunter decided the further west they journeyed the safer they would be and was certain they were still in Alabama.
Tired, cold and hungry they made camp after drifting all night and day. Her brother was lucky enough to kill a rattler, which they feasted on that night. Casey allowed them both the luxury of sleeping four hours before she rousted her grumpy brother from the cold ground.
She presented the sour-faced boy with a handful of wild berries she had found earlier. That afternoon the sky was a ceiling of clear blue; there wasn’t a cloud attached to the heavens.
They came upon a small band of Confederate soldiers sitting on the dusty road. Most of the men were wounded, the rest looked half starved and bone weary. Hunter was reluctant to stop and wanted to circle around, but she didn’t feel threatened by the motley bunch. Anyway, they were southerners, so they didn’t have anything to fear. But the real reason she continued her course was she wanted information from them, hoping they could tell her where they were.
“Excuse me, Sir,” she knelt beside one of the men who was not wounded. “Can you tell us how far we from the Alabama’s border?” The soldier in the torn uniform squinted up at her. He was young; his full beard didn’t hide his youthful eyes. He licked his dry lips and pointed west. “A few weeks in that direction should get you to Jackson Mississippi,” he informed her.
“Thank you, sir. I hope you make it to where you all are going.”
He sighed and then snorted. “I’m no sir, miss, just a weary solder and the name’s Keith. I have no fear about myself, but some of the wounded men may not make it back to celebrate that is if there’s anything to be joyous about. Personally, I have nothing to celebrate.”
Casey saw Hunter’s features take on a puzzled look.
“Celebrate?” Her confusion leaked out in her voice and the soldier scowled.
“Haven’t you heard,” he spat on the ground, “the war is over.”
Casey rose to her feet, a bit light headed, exclaiming incredulously, “The war is over?” Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, she turned to her brother with a questioning eye and Hunter shrugged with indifference.
“I’d still rather take my chances out west, Sis. Start over.”
That night their luck continued when she and her brother came upon a deserted farm. The shelves were stocked with canned food and fruit. Later, content she slept with a full stomach. The next day, a lone rooster greeted the dawn with great enthusiasm waking Casey and Hunter rudely. Her brother loaded what supplies they could carry in an empty flour sack and they continued on. Never once feeling at ease, she continuously looked over her shoulder, feeling Blake might catch up with them at any moment.
Although, he had no reason to follow them, she believed in her gut, which was never wrong, that he would. She knew he was a man to reckon with and she had hurt his pride. Her nerves were wound tighter than a cheap watch.
Later that day the skies opened up soaking them to the bone but when the sun came out, little yellow buttercup magically blossomed over the land lifting her spirits somewhat. Having to sleep wet and uncomfortable in a wooded area, Casey once again was miserable.
Two nights later, they stopped at a small farm, the light inside told them that it was inhabited, but she didn’t care. She needed a good nights sleep and their provisions were almost gone. Luckily, the couple was very neighborly and fed them, offering the dry barn to sleep in. Despite the strong odor of animal discharges and the musty air, she slept like a baby. In the morning, she and Hunter noticed how badly the place needed repairs.
“My brother and I can use a few dollars to tide us over, can we offer to help rebuild the corral fence?” she voiced hopefully. Sam and Greta were happy to help them and appreciated help in return.
“Where are you two young’ums headed, if I might ask,” Greta spoke while peeling potatoes.
Casey shrugged. “Don’t rightly know, but we’re thinking El Paso. We lost out home in the war,” she fibbed, “and we only want a fresh started out west, away from all the killing.” It wasn’t a total lie.
Greta clicked her tongue. “That was a sorry affair. My Sam and I were never blessed with children and now I’m glad. Would’ve broken my heart to lose a child in that awful war,” she clicked her tongue again. Brother against brother, a terrible shame I tell you. We never owned a slave and I tell you it is a disgrace the way they suffered. Sometimes I’m ashamed of my own race. Tsk, tsk.”
Casey voiced her agreement, feeling her face heat a little over the fact that her pa sold slaves. Later Hunter came in with Sam.
Greta pumped water into the sink for the men to wash up and Sam placed a loving peck on his wife’s cheek. “Dear, that boy has been a God send, we practically finished the fence.” He wiped his sweaty brow against his sleeve.
Hunter smiled at her, looking mighty proud and she returned the favor. She was happy for him, he liked building things with his hands. Back home, he constantly built articles for their mother. Table, chairs, beds, anything that could be built, he did. He even built them a little house in a tree when he was ten with the help of their father; where she would pretend she was a mother and a wife. Her only child was a straw dolly, a gift from Hunter on her eleventh birthday.
Her heart was both happy and sad. He was so young to have been mixed up in her father’s affairs. What would she have done if he had been killed? Blake had confessed the morning after she had a restless sleep with his semi-nude’s body so close, that it was his bullet that creased Hunter’s skull. He apologized, but he claimed he was only doing his job. She had to be grateful for one thing, the cowboy was a poor shot. But then again, Hunter said it was dark.
They stayed a few more days taking a chance that Blake had lost their trail. Greta was such a good cook; she and her brother would’ve worked for meals only, if they didn’t need the cash.
Casey’s dress was almost in rags. Greta insisted in giving her one of her old ones from before she had put on a few pounds. She figured the lady must’ve been very slim because the old gingham dress fit her to a tee and the kind lady wasn’t much heavier than she. Hunter’s clothes were washed during the night and though almost thread bare, Greta did her best to sew the seams and to patch the hole in his pants.
Three days later, with their stomach’s full and their pockets jingling with a few coins, Casey sadly said her good-byes to the couple, saying she and her brother would miss them and their home cooking. Greta packed them a basket of fried chicken and biscuits for the road. Her brother looked up and saw tears trickle down her face, giving her a sympatric smile. He insisted on walking first, since they agreed on taking turns on riding Sadie.
“I’m sorry, sis. I know you hated leaving those folks. I can read your mind, you wished that we could have had parents like them and a happy home life; but I promise you, someday you will find a fella to love and be happy. Don’t look so crestfallen sis, it breaks my heart.”
Casey forced a smile and wiped her face with her palm, knowing she was making it harder for him. Yes, she would have loved to stay longer, but they had to find their own lot in life. Then her thoughts drifted to Blake; under different circumstances, he could have been the right one for her. Absentmindedly, she touched her lips; sorry she had slammed the door in his face. But then, hindsight never righted things.
They arrived on the outskirts of El Paso, exhausted and once again hungry. Sadie had gone lame when she threw a broken shoe, making them walk for a day. They had been limping along with the mare when she spotted a covered wagon standing crippled by the road. She suggested to her brother to go ahead and ask if they could use help. He did and returned to explain that the old couple’s wagon’s wheel sank in the mud and they couldn’t get the old nag to pull it free.
With Casey pulling on the bit and Hunter smacking the animal’s rump, they were able to free the wagon and move on. The couple, Mr. and Mrs. Oliver offered them some water and food. She told them that they were headed west also. Mrs. Oliver than suggested that they tag alone since she and her husband were finding the trip more of a hardship than they had anticipated. Casey quickly agreed and Hunter nodded his acceptance making her smile at their good fortune.
As weeks passed and the days grew warmer, she and Hunter grew close to the Oliver’s, Michael and Ruth. The two old people seemed to have adopted them and she thought that they were the grandparents she had never known. Casey and her th
ree companions made it through Texas without incident.
The hot sun glittered brightly on the gold fields of the plains. Soft white daisies dotted the land making Casey feel a little melancholy. They had stayed in El Paso a few days to replenish supplies and have Sadie re-shod. Ruth insisted on buying them new clothes since the ones they owned were nearly rags by now. Casey gratefully accepted and purchased a riding skirt and a plaid shirt. She also brought new boots but found her old ones were more to her liking. By the time they continued on, she no longer looked over her shoulders, convinced Blake had lost the trail.
Although feeling relieved, she was confused by the fact that at night her dreams were haunted by the cowboy’s handsome face and piercing eyes. She wondered what he thought of the woman who had helped her brother escape the law. She wondered why she ever cared.
Again, she thought, if only we had met under different circumstances.
She sighed. There was no use in wanting something that couldn’t be.
TWELVE
Blake had misjudged the pair and discovered his mistake later. Doubling back along the stream, he saw where Casey and Hunter had headed west. He was impressed by their keen foresight that they might be followed. Shortly after discovering their tracks again, he came upon a group of soldiers and upon questioning them, he discovered the two were heading for Mississippi. This bit of information confirmed his suspicions that they were headed further west; their true direction would help him track them easier. Finding the deserted farm, he was able to see the clues that they were also there and he gathered enough canned food to hold him over for a while.
Love by Dawn Page 7
