Love Inspired Historical February 2016 Box Set

by Karen Kirst

  Delsie turned to ask Myles about the Indian, but he was no longer nearby. A worm of alarm uncurled inside her. Where had he gone? She pushed through the crowd, searching frantically. At last she spied him heading toward the stables, leading Moses behind him.

  Pushing out a breath of relief, she rushed after them. She wanted no reoccurrence of what had happened the last time she’d ventured off on her own near a fort.

  “There you are,” Myles said before leading Moses into the stable. “Wasn’t sure if you preferred looking over the things to buy.”

  Delsie shook her head. “I don’t mind waiting here with you…” She blushed as she realized how her words might sound to him. “And Moses, too, of course,” she added with a forced laugh.

  Myles, thankfully, made no comment. Instead he spoke to the smithy about Moses’s shoe.

  She glanced around and found a barrel to sit on. Taking off her hat, she fanned herself with it, relishing even a moment to sit without moving.

  Riding wasn’t as trying anymore, but she would be glad when her days no longer consisted of hours and hours in a saddle. Or would she? She allowed her gaze to sweep the fort beyond the stable’s overhang. While she didn’t have much taste for fort life, she’d grown so used to the open sky and the endless miles to think, to pray and to simply breathe. Her beloved home back in Pennsylvania had grown increasingly more confining in memory—a place to be seen and conform.

  She couldn’t go back and expect things to be the same because she was no longer the same. Learning new skills, besting the elements and pushing herself through one difficulty after another had succeeded in peeling away nearly all of her former shyness and uncertainty. She was stronger than she’d imagined and longed for greater freedom than she’d once thought. But she had no other choice. Home was where she was needed, where she’d promised to be.

  For the first time in years, that promise felt as weighty as a buffalo robe upon her shoulders instead of a tenuous thread of connection to her mother. “Is this truly what you had in mind, Mother?” she whispered, her lips barely moving, as her eyes sought the blue sky above. “To find Lillie and return home to life unchanged? To someone like Flynn?”

  A sudden hard pinch to her arm made her yelp as much from pain as surprise. She twisted on the barrel to find the Indian she’d seen earlier towering over her. Delsie’s heart pounded with panic as the man released her arm and fingered her hair.

  “Myles,” she managed to squeak out of her dry throat as she plunked her hat back on her head.

  The Indian proceeded to pull at her lower lip and examine her teeth as if she were a horse on display. Delsie lifted a trembling hand and firmly pushed his away. “Myles?” she called, louder.

  “What?” he grumbled. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of him moving toward her, but he froze when he saw the Indian standing there.

  “Squaw very beautiful,” the Indian said, his tone languid and deep.

  “Yes, she is.” Myles stepped closer, not taking his gaze off the man. He might stand several inches taller than her companion, but the fierce protection in Myles’s black eyes eased Delsie’s panicked pulse a little.

  “You need new horse?” The Indian gestured to Moses behind them.

  “Not new horse, just new horseshoe,” Myles answered evenly.

  The Indian sized up Moses as he had Delsie earlier. “Horse look old and tired. Ride too hard. I have new horse. Young and full of energy.” He waved his hand toward the fort entrance.

  Myles darted a glance in that direction, then back at the Indian. “What do you want for your young horse?”

  Delsie held her breath as she waited for the Indian’s reply. Something in his unemotional face made her shiver.

  “I give you horse,” he answered matter-of-factly. “You give me squaw.”

  A soft gasp escaped her and she started to rise, intent on refusing the man. But Myles pressed a firm hand onto her shoulder, indicating she stay seated.

  When he seemed satisfied she wouldn’t move, he let go and rubbed at his chin as if actually contemplating the offer. Delsie gripped the sides of the barrel with both hands, irritation replacing some of her fear. Would Myles really consider trading her for a horse? After all they’d gone through? She tightened her fists. He wouldn’t get one cent from her if he handed her over to this Indian now. Not one single…

  Myles slowly shook his head, his expression almost apologetic. “It’s a good trade—for me. But not for you.” He motioned to Delsie. “Squaw is trouble.”

  She gave a squeal of protest, then pressed her lips together when he shot her a warning look.

  “This squaw doesn’t cook and she can’t sit a horse too well.” She felt her whole body tremble at his words, but it wasn’t with fright this time. Now it was anger coursing through her. “She knows nothing about skinning an animal, either, or how to tan a hide. And she never, never stops talking.”

  The Indian glanced with obvious skepticism at the silent Delsie.

  “She’s quiet now,” Myles explained, “but the moment you’re out of earshot, I can guarantee you that I’ll get an earful.”

  “But you keep squaw?” Confusion clouded the man’s bronzed features.

  Myles lifted his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “Her father owns a very accurate shotgun.”

  The Indian sniffed with dismissiveness. “I keep horse, then, and you keep troubling squaw.”

  “Only if you’re sure.”

  Spinning on his heel, the Indian marched away, his back erect.

  Delsie scrambled off the barrel, her hands clenched at her sides. Anger made her skin itch and her collar too tight. “Why would you—”

  Myles clapped his hand over her mouth, his face mere inches from her own. “Shh,” he hissed, throwing a glance at the retreating Indian. “I had to be convincing. Otherwise he and his friends might have followed us once we left here and simply taken you. We might not have stood a chance if he found you…” He visibly swallowed as he lowered his hand. “If he found you pleasing.”

  He’d said all those things to protect her—once again. Delsie reached out and touched his arm, the firm muscle almost familiar beneath her fingers. “Thank you.” She folded her arms as a sudden shiver ran through her. “For a moment there, I thought you might actually give in. Of course your arguments to the contrary were very believable, as well.”

  Myles grinned. “There was only one thing on that list that was true.”

  “Yes, I can’t tan a hide,” she said with a laugh.

  But he shook his head. “Not that one. I’ve no doubt you could do it if you had a mind to.” He started back toward Moses and the smithy.

  Delsie stepped quickly after him. “Then what?”

  He paused long enough to throw her a look over his shoulder. A look that held a mixture of amusement, appreciation and regret—all rolled into one. “The part about being trouble,” he murmured in a voice that sent a tingle racing down her spine. Not one of anger but wild hope.

  She ducked out of the way as he paid the smithy and gathered Moses’s reins. But even as they wound their way back toward the fort entrance, Delsie knew she wouldn’t soon forget the husky tone of Myles’s voice as he’d said those words or the caring in his dark eyes. One day, soon, when she was no longer riding at his side day in and day out, she would pull out this memory to savor again and again.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Myles pushed his empty plate aside and rested his elbows on the smooth wood table as he leaned forward to better hear the Express rider seated across from him and Amos. The dining room at Porter Rockwell’s Hot Springs Brewery Hotel, south of Salt Lake City, remained full of people and conversation, despite the late evening hour.

  “You’ll probably fare all right,” the rider named Tucker stated matter-of-factly as he lifted his mug to his mouth and took a drink. “It’s the stations what’s in real trouble.”

  “How many have been attacked?” Amos asked, his voice tight with seriousness. Myles sensed the o
lder man was every bit on edge as himself tonight. As of tomorrow, they were riding straight into the lion’s den, so to speak, with little knowledge on how bad things might be.

  Tucker set his mug down. “Can’t say for certain. My run’s been fairly quiet, except for a scrimmage between one station owner and the Indians. But I have heard of other stations being burned, stock driven off and owners killed.”

  Amos shot Myles a look. It was the same dire rumblings they’d heard before leaving Nebraska behind. Would the rumors prove true? Would they be able to find sufficient food or shelter in the middle of a warpath?

  “I’d get new horses, if I was you,” Tucker said. “Especially since you’ve been riding the same ones for nearly two weeks. Those Indian ponies have a harder time outrunning Express horses. That might be your greatest weapon.”

  Myles ran a hand over his beard. He hated the idea of parting with Moses—the horse had been as faithful a companion as Elijah. But if acquiring new mounts might save their lives, he would let Moses go. That was if Delsie was in agreement about funding the purchase of three new horses.

  Looking past Amos, he found her seat at their table was empty. At some point during the conversation with Tucker, she must have slipped away. A tremor of unease flitted through Myles. While there were a number of women here tonight, the male occupants of the hotel far outnumbered the female ones.

  “Where’d Delsie go?” he asked Amos quietly.

  Amos shrugged. “Not sure. She said she needed some air.”

  His agitation increased, especially given the popularity of the nearby brewery. “I’m going to look for her. Tell her what we found out.” He nodded at Tucker, snagged some meat to give to Elijah and stood. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

  He made his way out of the dining room. Outside Myles paused in the dying light. Delsie wasn’t milling about the hotel like several of the other guests. Should he knock on her door? His gaze settled on the adobe barn near the hotel, and an inner nudge guided his feet in that direction.

  Horse-scented air filled his nostrils as he stepped through the open doors of the large building. Sure enough he spied Delsie beside one of the stalls, stroking Moses’s nose. The anxiety churning in his gut dissipated at the sight. Elijah swooped down from a rafter to land on Myles’s shoulder. The bird had obviously followed Delsie. The thought pleased him, though he knew it shouldn’t matter if the sparrow hawk had taken a liking to her, as well.

  She turned as he approached, her smile less vibrant than normal. “Hello.”

  He came to a stop beside her. “Didn’t see you slip out.”

  “I couldn’t listen to that sort of talk anymore.” She stated the words simply, but Myles didn’t miss the melancholy that seeped into her tone.

  “We’ll make it, Delsie.”

  He placed his hand over hers where it rested on the stall door. Without a word, she entwined her fingers with his. They stood that way for at least a minute, neither one speaking. The solace of the barn and her presence eased some of the tension from Myles’s shoulders. He meant what he’d told her—somehow, some way, he would get her to her sister.

  “You’re a good horse, aren’t you?” Delsie rubbed the animal’s nose again.

  “He’s been more than willing to do what we’ve asked him to.” He released her hand to pull some hay from a nearby bale and feed it to Moses. “I’ve only known a couple of horses like that, even after twenty years of working with them.”

  Elijah hopped onto the stall door and ruffled his feathers in indignation when Moses blew air in the bird’s direction. Myles smiled. Too bad he couldn’t keep the beast. “That man Tucker suggested we buy new horses.”

  Delsie sighed and let her hand fall to her side. “Is that what you think we should do?”

  He leaned against the stall post and offered Elijah some of the meat from his pocket. “I do, given what might lie ahead. And the sooner the better. I hate to part with a perfectly decent horse, but we need ones that haven’t been ridden hard for eleven days straight.”

  Her mouth pressed into a hesitant line.

  “If it’s about the money…”

  She shook her head. “It isn’t that. I’ve got enough to buy new horses and still pay you and Amos what I promised.”

  “You just hate to say goodbye,” he murmured, his eyes fastened on her profile. Would he ever meet another woman as beautiful, strong and compassionate as Delsie Radford? He was beginning to have his doubts.

  She twisted to face him. “Yes, I don’t want to say goodbye.” Myles had the sudden impression she, too, was talking about more than the horse. Then the hesitancy in her expression transformed into familiar determination. “I want you to have him, Myles.”

  “What?” he said, laughing quietly.

  “I’m serious.” She took a step toward him, filling his senses with the momentary scent of lavender. “You said he was a good animal. The best.”

  “Well, yes, but…”

  Her dark blue eyes pleaded with him. “I don’t want him left behind. Not after all he’s done for me…for us. Please. I’ll pay to have him boarded here until you and Amos return. Then he’s yours. You can sell your new horse, too, on your return trip.” She laid her hand against his arm. “Consider both an investment in your future ranch.”

  Myles stared at her, hardly daring to believe she meant it. He’d never owned his own horse. Charles had, but Myles had left the aging Jedidiah behind when he quit the livery stable. Could he afford to keep a mount on what he was paid for Express riding? The logistics paled in comparison, though, to the sight of Delsie’s expectant face and the possibility of being one step closer to his dreams for the future.

  “Why?” He couldn’t help the question. Other than Amos, no one else had taken an interest in what he did or where he went in a very long time.

  She lowered her gaze and fingered his sleeve. The gentle touch sent shoots of feeling up his arm. “Because Amos…and you…have come to mean a great deal to me.”

  And yet she wasn’t giving Amos a horse. Was it possible that she’d come to care for him as much as he did for her? He decided to test his theory, despite the voice of reason in his head telling him he was foolish to give his heart to another rich female. One who wasn’t free to give her heart in return.

  With his finger, he tipped her chin upward. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes as they met his. “Then I accept,” he replied huskily.

  “I’m glad,” she whispered with a faint trace of a smile, pulling his attention to her lips. It wasn’t the first time he’d contemplated kissing her—he had the night they’d danced by the wagon train and the day the Indian had tried bartering for her. But those moments had felt too public, unlike this one.

  “Thank you, Delsie,” he murmured.

  He didn’t know which of them moved first or if they moved in tandem. But one moment he was staring into those beautiful eyes and the next he felt her lips beneath his own. The kiss was featherlight. Her hand came to rest alongside his bearded jaw as Myles poured his hopes—however blighted—for a future together into this one kiss.

  When Delsie stepped back, several long heartbeats later, there were tears on her cheeks. “I’d better go.”

  She hesitated a moment, then reached out once more and trailed her fingers down the side of his face, as if memorizing the lines and features. Pain filled her eyes—a pain Myles couldn’t erase this time no matter how badly he wanted to.

  “Good night, Myles.”

  She lowered her hand and moved slowly past him. The words hit him with all the force of a hoof to his gut. She wasn’t simply bidding him good-night. She was saying an early goodbye. Myles watched, with irritating helplessness, as she exited the barn.

  When he could no longer see her, he rammed a fist against the stall post, disrupting Elijah and sending the bird flying to an overhead rafter. The ache inside him felt too reminiscent of what he’d felt as a four-year-old boy when he’d lost both his parents to illness within two days of each other. His gr
ief at losing Charles, too, nearly paled to the pain lancing through him now.

  Why had he allowed himself to fall for Delsie? A woman he couldn’t have, no matter how much she clearly cared for him in return. She wouldn’t divide her family further by accepting a life with him, and Myles could no longer blame her. Riding with her and Amos day after day had given him the closest thing to family that he’d had in years. He wouldn’t want to give that up, no matter how attractive another avenue. Delsie had come too far and endured too much to break her father’s heart a second time.

  So it would be Myles’s heart that took the beating. But if it meant Delsie was happy, if it meant she got what she ultimately wanted, he would do it again—a thousand times over.

  He hung his head at the realization, and a weight as heavy as cast iron settled over his shoulders. The unknowns before them faded in consequence to the thought of her slipping out of his life for good in seven short days. The woman he’d spent nearly every minute of every day with for the past two weeks, the woman he’d enjoyed kissing a hundred times more than he’d ever liked kissing Cynthia, the woman who’d bolstered his faith and given him a reason to smile would be gone—and he was powerless to stop that final goodbye.

  “Please, God,” he found himself whispering, his hands gripping the ledge of the stall in earnestness. He hadn’t really prayed in years, but he couldn’t face this last portion of their journey on his own. “Help me endure the next week and see her, safely, to the end.”

  *

  Delsie bit her lip as she eyed the mountains from beneath her hat. The sunbaked land they’d ridden through today boasted little in color or leafy vegetation. A patch of light rain earlier had turned the desert into a watery beauty and filled the air with the smell of damp earth and sagebrush. But now, the unrelenting sun had burned away the last of the moisture.

  A deep feeling of melancholy welled within her, bringing the threat of tears. She sniffed hard to will them back. She’d never been prone to tears like Lillie was, and yet, she’d been moved to crying twice in no time at all. First in the barn with Myles, and now at the barrenness surrounding her, in a place so unlike home she felt as if she were moving through a dream world.