Love Inspired Historical February 2016 Box Set

by Karen Kirst

  “Hey,” he cried from behind, “what’s your hurry? Come on back here.”

  Her toes at last sunk into the mud at the bank’s edge and she scrambled from the water, her breath coming so fast and hard she could hardly breathe. Her feet caught in the hem of her chemise and she tripped. No, no, no.

  “You can’t hide for long, girlie.”

  Delsie threw a quick glance at her pursuer as she struggled to free her feet. He was halfway across the river by now, his large boots eating up her lead.

  “There’s no one else out here—”

  The sudden cocking of a gun preceded Myles’s loud command, “Leave her alone.”

  Relief washed over Delsie with such intensity she nearly cried out. The sight of Myles standing above her on the bank, his gun aimed at the trapper, stilled her frantic movements. Shivering, she dropped the sand and wrapped her arms around her sodden gown and knees.

  The trapper had stopped, his arms lifted halfway. “You know you ain’t the only one with a gun here.” Sure enough, his friends had drawn their weapons, which were now pointed at Myles.

  The hard look on his face didn’t waver for a second. “True. But you’ll be a dead man before you ever find out if your friends succeeded in shooting me, too.”

  Delsie held her breath as the two men glared at one another, as frozen as stone. At last, the trapper backed up, his hands reaching higher. “She’s all yours then. Not worth the trouble.”

  Myles didn’t lower the gun or look her way until the trapper had joined his companions on the other side of the river and the three of them headed back the way they’d come. By then, Delsie’s shivers had grown worse. Her teeth had begun to chatter behind her tightly pressed lips.

  “Get your dress and shoes,” Myles ordered, his tone sharp with barely concealed fury.

  Was he angrier at the trappers or at her for not listening? Too exhausted and chilled to ask, she collected her riding dress, took the hand he offered her and climbed onto her trembling legs.

  Once Delsie stood erect, Myles turned his back to her. “Go ahead and get them on.”

  After several false starts at getting the dress over her wet chemise, she finally had the gown on. Her fingers shook so hard she could hardly do up the buttons. The relief she’d felt at Myles’s appearance was fast fading in the wake of the shock coursing through her at what might have happened if he hadn’t come along. As she pulled on her shoes, tears blurred her vision and she hurried to brush them away before he noticed.

  “Done?” he asked after several minutes.

  “Yes.” She wasn’t sure he heard her whispered reply as she started past him.

  Myles’s hand seized her arm in a firm grip, turning her toward him. His eyes blazed dark beneath his hat. “What were you thinking?” The edge had returned to his voice. “I told you not to wander off. Do you know what they could have done?” He released her to run his hand over the stubble covering his jaw and chin. Only then did Delsie notice his own fingers weren’t as sure and steady as normal.

  “I—I didn’t think anything would happen—”

  “That’s the problem. You didn’t think.”

  “I wasn’t trying to court trouble, Myles.” She folded her arms against another bout of tears rising fast toward her throat and eyes. “I just wanted to…to wash up. I didn’t mean—”

  “Why did I even bother warning you?” He yanked off his hat and plunged his shaking hand through his hair. “You’re clearly going to do whatever you please. Including walking right into a group of trappers, dressed in just your…” He waved a hand at her, his face momentarily flushing before his expression hardened again. “Might as well have ridden into the fort and announced you were taking callers.”

  An angry spark lit inside Delsie, stoked by Myles’s stubborn refusal to listen. It wasn’t as if she’d chosen to swim with an audience of onlookers. “I admit I was wrong to go off alone, and for that I apologize. But I refuse to stand here and let you reprimand me another minute.”

  “Reprimand? I’m trying to talk sense into you. Something I’m beginning to think you left back in Pennsylvania.”

  Hands on her hips, she glowered up at him. “I’m sorry if my lack of sense requires you to keep rescuing me, but you agreed to come along. Not the other way around. Need I remind you that I’m not used to this way of life?”

  He reared back as if slapped. “You’re right,” he said slowly. “Which is why…I’m trying to protect you.”

  Her anger, and her strength, ebbed at his admission. “You may also recall—” her voice wobbled a bit “—I was nearly kidnapped and accosted back there and I don’t know that my knees can hold me much longer. I’m going to find Amos…”

  Delsie moved away from him but not before a sob leaked from her lips. Covering her mouth, she stumbled forward. The luxury of being clean no longer held any appeal—she felt only wet and cold, her feelings brittle. The magnitude of her journey weighted her footsteps and dragged at her head and heart. Would she continue to skirt danger, in the nick of time, to reach Lillie alive and well? Or was this truly a fool’s errand?

  She tripped, unseeing, over something, but before she landed on the dirt, Myles caught her elbow. This time his touch exuded only gentleness.

  “I left my horse right over there, Delsie. You can ride back.”

  She tried to find the animal, but she couldn’t see much through her tears. Then Myles’s strong arms were around her, holding her in a comforting embrace. Delsie pressed her cheek to his jacket, breathing in the familiar scent of leather, and let her sobs flow unchecked.

  “It’s all right,” he soothed, as if she were one of his horses, “you’re all right. No one’s going to hurt you.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. If you hadn’t come right then…” She shuddered in horror.

  He tightened his hold and ran his hand down her wet hair. “Shh. Don’t think about it. You’re safe with me and Amos.”

  After another minute, her tears were spent and she stepped back. Myles offered her a bandanna to wipe her damp face.

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded, seeming to understand she was expressing gratitude for more than just his gentlemanly gesture.

  Delsie followed him to his horse. There on the ground sat a hastily dropped pile of clothes. Myles picked them up and thrust them at her. “These are for you. From the trading post. They oughta help.”

  She accepted the hat and trousers, too surprised to form an immediate response. Myles had gone back to buy her more appropriate riding gear? Surely that meant he believed in her and her attempt to reach her sister. She glanced up at him, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring in the direction of the river.

  “I would have got you soap, too, but…”

  She shook her head, pressing the things to her wet bodice. “No, no. This is wonderful. Thank you, again.”

  “I knew you were in trouble.” His voice was low and tinged with wonder. “Knew it as sure as if someone had said it out loud. Riding back across the prairie, I couldn’t seem to go fast enough. I had no idea what was wrong, but I knew…” He finally returned his gaze to hers. “I knew I had to reach you.”

  He lifted his hand and ran his thumb over the drying tears on her cheek. “Just promise not to wander off like that again.” Something warm spread through Delsie, burning away the last remnants of cold, both inside and out.

  “I won’t,” she whispered back.

  The earnest look on his chiseled face, the warmth of his touch on her cheek, the gift of the new clothing told a different story from the one Myles wanted people to believe—he cared. In spite of his occasional brusqueness, he cared about her. The realization rocked her nearly as much as her harrowing experience earlier.

  He cares as a friend, she told herself. For that was all they could ever be—especially after their journey was over. Myles would never be content to live in her world, and her father would never allow her to live in his. But it was enough to know he was her friend.


  Even when he lowered his hand and the guarded look returned to his dark eyes, even when he hastily lifted her onto his horse, she told herself it was enough to know he cared. As long as she stuck with Myles, she would be fine.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Myles cast a glance at Delsie over his shoulder—the fourth or fifth time in the past hour of riding. After the events at the river yesterday, he was simply making sure she was still behind him and holding up. He told himself it had nothing to do with how charming she looked in her new hat or with her trousers sticking out the bottom of her skirt.

  She caught his eye and smiled, though the gesture lacked her usual spark. At least her face had lost its paleness and her shoulders had returned to their normal upright posture. If he hadn’t heeded that thought of warning…

  Facing forward again, he stared grimly at the open prairie before them. He and Delsie had agreed to keep the details vague when they’d explained their absence to Amos the day before—Delsie had gone swimming and Myles happened by at the same moment some trappers wandered up on the opposite side of the river. If the older man had known the truth, Myles didn’t doubt Amos would wrestle the men’s descriptions from him and hunt them down. He was still of a mind to do the same. The lurid look in the one trapper’s eyes still had the ability to turn his gut to ice and his hands to fists—ready for revenge, even in memory.

  One thing he knew for certain. God might not remember him, but He was watching over Delsie. That was the only explanation that made sense to him when he thought back on his earlier intuition about Delsie being in trouble.

  The responsibility to protect her settled like a heavy saddle blanket over Myles’s shoulders. Would he and Amos be able to keep her safe over the next fifteen days? What if something happened to one or both of them, and she were left on her own? The possibility filled him with enough horror to constrict his breath for a moment.

  No, he wouldn’t let that happen. He rubbed at Elijah’s feathers as the bird playfully pecked at his hat. No matter what lay ahead, Myles vowed to get Delsie to her destination, well and whole. To do that, though, he would need to teach her how to handle herself in this unfamiliar world. His world. Could she do it? he wondered. Cynthia never would have.

  He set his mouth in a hard line. Delsie had to. Any other thought or plan was unacceptable. He would best keep her safe by helping her help herself. Starting today.

  At their first resting spot, Myles slid from his horse and removed one of his Colt revolvers from the saddle holsters. He waited for Amos to help Delsie down before he announced, “You need to learn how to shoot a gun.”

  “Now?” Delsie’s eyebrows rose in surprise as she removed the wide-brimmed hat he’d bought her and hung it on the saddle horn.

  “If you ever need to shoot something or someone—” he gave her meaningful look “—you’ll know how.”

  She visibly swallowed. “But I don’t own a gun.”

  “You’re never far from one. I’ve got two revolvers, and Amos has one, too.”

  The older man nodded and pulled back his jacket to reveal the gun stuck into the waistband of his trousers.

  “It’s more than shooting, too.” Myles motioned to the horses. “You need to know how to saddle and unsaddle your mare, and how to climb on and off without assistance.”

  Her blue eyes appeared troubled. “All right, I’ll learn. However, I don’t see the reason. If you and Amos are right here…”

  Myles let his gaze flit past her to the western horizon, a rare feeling of uncertainty eating at him. “We most likely will be,” he said, not wishing to scare her. “But if something should happen to either of us, or both of us, you can still make it on time yourself.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her studying him, as if trying to put a name, or a reason, to his insistence. But he couldn’t explain it himself. All he knew was that he felt a responsibility to help her reach her sister, no matter what lay ahead, that went deeper than the promised money or adventure.

  “I agree with Myles,” Amos interjected as he gathered the horses’ reins to lead them to the river. “I’ll tie up the animals, but be sure you’re shooting that revolver a ways off.”

  Myles nodded and started in the opposite direction. When Delsie didn’t immediately follow, he turned back. “Coming?”

  Her brow pinched in a determined way. “Very well.”

  He led her north toward a distant stand of trees. A tin can or two would’ve been nice for target practice, but Myles figured he could improvise. When they reached the trees, he went to the thickest and pointed to a particularly large knot in the wood. “This is your target.”

  Moving closer, she scrutinized the marking, then nodded.

  He paced off ten steps. “Stand back here.” Delsie threw another glance at the knot before coming to stand next to him. “Here’s the gun.” He set it in her hand.

  Her gaze went wide like a spooked animal. “But I don’t know what to do.”

  He released a soft chuckle. “Right now, I just want you to hold it. Get used to the weight of it.”

  Something more than determination etched her pretty face. Myles realized with a start it was trust. She trusted him, through and through. How long had it been since he’d inspired that sort of confidence? Since someone had relied on him? Not since Charles’s death.

  A soft exhale of breath pulled his attention back to Delsie. “I think I’m ready to try shooting it.”

  “Then face the tree.” When she did so, he stepped directly behind her. “First thing you want to do is cock the hammer. You’ll do that each time you shoot.” He indicated the hammer on the gun and waited while she clicked it back. “Next you want to bring the gun to shoulder level and line up the notch on top of the hammer with the bead on the end of the gun.”

  Delsie lifted the gun and aimed at the tree.

  “Now, when you’re ready, you squeeze the trigger. But remember the gun will kick—”

  The sudden explosion of the revolver ended his warning. Delsie slammed back against him with a cry. Instinctively, Myles gripped her waist to steady her. A whisper of lavender still scented her hair, reminding him of the moment they’d shared while brushing her mare two nights before. Had it only been two days ago? The more time he spent in her company, the harder it was to believe he hadn’t always known her.

  “Are you all right?” So much for his warning about the gun kicking back.

  She twisted to look at him, her eyes as large as wagon wheels. “I think so. Did I hit the tree?”

  Releasing her from his grip, Myles walked over to the tree and examined the trunk. A couple feet above the knot, he found the dent from the bullet. “You hit it here,” he called back to her, indicating the spot on the tree.

  Delsie’s expression lit up. “Really? I didn’t think I hit it at all.”

  “Let’s have you try again.” She swung the gun up to shoulder level, causing Myles to leap out of the way. “Wait a minute, woman. Don’t shoot until I’m behind you.”

  “Sorry.” Her cheeks flushed, but she threw him an impish smile.

  The action coaxed a smile from him, as well. Learning to shoot might be serious business, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it.

  “Don’t forget to cock it, either,” he reminded as he positioned himself behind her.

  Delsie cocked the hammer, lifted the gun again and took aim. This time, when she fired, she rocked back only a few inches.

  “I think you were closer.” Myles moved to the tree, Delsie trailing him. Sure enough the mark of the bullet stood only four inches above the knot.

  “Again,” she declared. Myles bit back a chuckle at this sudden desire to best herself.

  They resumed their places and she pulled the trigger for a third time. Myles started to step past her to see where she’d struck the tree this time, but she motioned him back with her free hand. “I think that one was a little closer, but still to the left. Let me try once more.”

  She fired the revolv
er again, then joined him at the tree. The bullet had hit the outer edge of the knot. “Look at that.” Her entire face lit up with pleasure as she fingered the dent in the trunk. “How many bullets do I have left?”

  “Two.”

  “Then I want to see if I can be consistent.”

  Myles nodded in appreciation—Delsie didn’t do things by half. It was another trait to add to the growing list of her redeeming qualities. Too bad he wouldn’t get more than two weeks to discover all of them. She made for an intriguing puzzle of contrasts. Rich but humble, pretty but strong, unskilled but determined to learn.

  Delsie waited a moment after he’d moved to stand behind her before she cocked and fired the revolver in rapid succession, twice. When she’d finished, she lowered the weapon and rushed to the tree as fast as her long skirt would allow.

  “I did it,” she declared over her shoulder.

  Sure enough two bullet holes marred the knot, one almost dead center and the other slightly to the right. Myles ran a finger over both, disbelief and pride weaving through him. He’d expected to take the whole hour to teach her to shoot. Instead she’d mastered the skill in less than half that time and with a consistency that rivaled some of the Express riders he’d observed doing target practice.

  “You sure you’ve never shot a gun before?” he asked, taking off his hat and brushing at his forehead with his sleeve.

  She shook her head. “Does that I mean did all right?”

  “All right?” Myles plopped his hat back on and chuckled. “You shoot nearly as good as Amos and me. And that’s after one lesson. I don’t think any nefarious characters stand a chance against you.”

  “Really?” A brilliant smile lifted her lips and turned her eyes as stunningly blue as the sky overhead.

  Locks of her hair had escaped their pins, several curling against the creaminess of her cheeks. Myles fought the urge to feel one and lost. Lifting his hand, he fingered one long black curl.

  “My hair must look a sight.” Her voice sounded breathless. He swallowed a grin at the idea that he might be the cause. Perhaps there were a few things in this world that unsettled Miss Delsie Radford just a bit.