by Karen Kirst
The memory of kissing Myles filled her thoughts as it had countless times since last night. She’d never felt so cherished as she had in that moment. Her first kiss had proven to be more wonderful than she’d imagined it would be. And yet, she’d also felt a strong measure of heartbreak intermingled with the joy. It had taken every ounce of her will to walk away from Myles and not beg him to stay with her—always. Was this what Lillie had experienced at the thought of being parted forever from Clay?
Instead of compassion, though, an ember of anger filled her heart. Why should Lillie have her greatest desire, a life as the wife of the man she adored, and Delsie must uproot her wishes for the sake of their family? Immediate shame accompanied the angry question. Lillie had followed her heart, but it hadn’t come without a heavy price. And no matter how Delsie ached to remain at the side of the man riding stoically in front of her, she wouldn’t exact such a price from her father a second time.
Myles had clearly drawn the same conclusion. While he’d remained solicitous as they’d purchased new horses at Camp Floyd and along the ride since, she’d sensed the partial return of the reticence he’d worn like a shield in the beginning. His gaze no longer lingered in her direction as it once had, and his gentle grip fell from her elbow quicker than before.
Delsie hated knowing she was the cause of his hidden grief, but she felt incapable of changing any of it. Better to concentrate on reaching Lillie, as she had so many times on this journey, than to dwell on the painful reminders of what might have been between her and Myles.
That didn’t stop the single tear from dripping down her cheek, though. She hastily brushed it away, hoping Amos hadn’t noticed it from his spot to her right. The older man had been quieter than usual today, casting troubled looks between her and Myles more than once. She didn’t have the heart to explain the source of the unspoken tension radiating among the three of them.
“I think we ought to rest on the other side of that riverbed,” Amos called to Myles. The announcement sounded loud in Delsie’s ears after a long stretch of relative silence.
Myles twisted in the saddle. “Will do. The horses are starting to slow.”
Delsie searched the opposite bank of the river for something that might provide shade and was relieved to see several short trees. The temperature felt much hotter here than it had on the prairies or among the mountains. Hopefully, she’d be able to fill her nearly empty canteen at the river, as well.
They reached the bank and she peered down at the trickle of water running along the riverbed. Not much of a river, but enough water for them and the horses to drink. She followed Myles and his mount down the sloping incline and held her breath until her horse’s hooves struck the bottom. Her mare dropped her nose and began to drink from the gurgling brook.
“When they’re done drinking,” Myles directed, “let’s get them up on the opposite bank. It looks like there’s a little grass near those trees.”
Delsie nodded. Once her mare lifted its head again, she dug her heels into its flanks and guided the horse up the other bank. At the top, she slipped from the saddle and led the animal to the trees she’d seen earlier. She looped the reins around a nearby branch and turned to see Amos and Myles coming toward her.
“I need to fill my canteen,” she said over her shoulder as she removed the object from around the saddle horn.
“Me, too.” Myles tied up his mount and grabbed his canteen.
“What about you, Amos?” she asked. “Can I fill yours?”
Amos shook his head from where he’d spread out in the shade. “Mine’s nearly full. But thank you.”
Delsie didn’t know how he did it, drinking so little but never getting overly thirsty as far as she could tell. “All right. Enjoy your nap, then.” She coaxed a smile from him, as she’d hoped, and trailed Myles back down the bank to the river bottom.
Kneeling, she scooped up a handful of the cool liquid and drank. Droplets escaped her grip and slid down her chin and dress front, but she didn’t mind. She wet her hand again and rubbed it across the back of her neck and forehead.
“It’s hot, isn’t it?” she mused as Myles filled his canteen.
He eyed the sun from under his hat and gave a wordless nod.
Strained quiet filled the air between them, depressing her further. She wanted to go back to the banter and friendliness. Perhaps kissing him had been a mistake—though Delsie couldn’t wish away the moment altogether.
“About last night…” She stared at the water flowing into her canteen instead of at Myles’s dark eyes. “I didn’t mean for us to…” She licked her dry lips, the words clogging in her throat. “If I offended you, Myles…”
The sudden pressure of his finger beneath her chin made her heart sputter, both with happiness and trepidation. What would he say in response to her bumbling apology?
“Delsie.”
She lifted her gaze to his handsome face.
“Don’t be sorry.” His intense look held her captive. Emotions shifted across his features—hope, regret, acceptance. He moved his finger from her chin to her lower lip. Her pulse beat harder, filling her ears with the sound of rushing wind. “But we can’t change…”
Myles lowered his hand and cocked his head, as if listening. “Do you hear that?”
Could he hear the pounding of her heartbeat? “No,” she said, shaking her head.
“It sounds like wind, but nothing’s moving.”
Wind? Wasn’t that her pulse? Delsie took a deep breath to steady her drumming heart rate, but even as she calmed, the sound grew louder. “Wait. I do hear it.”
Myles tossed his canteen on the bank above them, then stood and jerked her to her feet. “Come on.”
“But my canteen…”
“Leave it.” With his hand still gripping her arm, he rushed her toward the bank at a jog.
“Myles? What’s going on? What’s that sound?” A movement to her right pulled her attention in that direction. To her horror, she saw a wall of churning water at least ten feet high racing along the river bottom straight toward them. “Myles!” she screamed.
He glanced over her head at the flood and his face hardened. With quick, strong movements, he yanked her to his side and tried to help her scramble up the bank. The dirt slid beneath their shoes, slowing their progress.
Delsie froze with fear. She could hardly breathe through the terror engulfing her as she watched the water coming closer and closer. If it hit them, she knew instinctively that they’d be swept away and drowned.
“Come on,” Myles yelled, pulling on her arm again. “We can make it, Delsie.”
His confidence snapped her out of her horrified trance. She clawed at the river bank with both hands. The roar of the water filled her ears, as loud and awful as any nightmare creature. The first droplets of angry spray smacked her face just as Amos appeared above them and hauled them both onto safe ground.
Delsie dropped onto her back, knocking her hat from her head and breathing heavily. If they hadn’t moved when they did, if Amos hadn’t come to their rescue… She squeezed her eyes shut against the thought.
“Delsie? Are you all right?”
She opened her eyes to find Myles leaning over her, his expression haggard. “I’m…” She swallowed hard, trying to push back the sob racing up her throat. But it leaked out in a strangled cry.
He lifted her carefully from the ground and cradled her against his chest. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “You’re all right.”
“B-but I lost my canteen,” she said in between shaking, sobbing breaths.
His soft laughter eased the trembling in her body. “Is that what you’re most upset about?”
She shrugged, inciting another chuckle from him, right before he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. Flutters of delight filled her stomach and eased any lingering dread.
“You darling, little soldier.”
Delsie tipped her chin upward to find him smiling down at her. His earlier reserve had disappeared, re
placed by amused adoration. She wiped at her wet cheeks, her gaze shifting from his dark eyes to his mouth. As if Myles sensed her longing, he rubbed his thumb against her lips once more, then placed another kiss to her hairline. Slowly he helped her onto her feet.
“Let’s get you some water and a little food.”
Even when Amos passed her his own canteen, his eyes full of questions, she didn’t feel embarrassed at Myles’s show of affection. No matter what happened between them now, she knew from the top of her head to the toes of her shoes that he cared for her—perhaps even loved her. And that was enough. At least she prayed it would be.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Another empty station,” Myles announced as he ducked out the door to where Delsie and Amos sat in their saddles waiting.
Her somber expression matched the gravity stirring within him and mirrored the lines of concern pinching Amos’s weathered face. Myles eyed the nearby corrals. “No stock, either.”
The horses and cattle had likely been run off by the same Indians who’d driven the workers from the station. He moved to his horse and scanned the surrounding clumps of brush for any sign of movement, though he guessed the station had been emptied several days ago.
A feeling in his gut last night had told him yesterday’s ride through the desert—and their near drowning in the flash flood—might be considered easy. At least when compared with what lay ahead of them now.
Several of the stations they’d passed by today weren’t simply empty like this one—they’d been burned to the ground. The little food they’d procured from one diligent owner had been eaten, and from the looks of things, they weren’t likely to find a home station to eat or board at tonight.
The sun was already dropping toward the western horizon. Both he and Amos had agreed to ride longer than normal, in hopes of finding a post that hadn’t been on the receiving end of an Indian ambush.
“What you do think?” he asked Amos.
Amos’s sharp gaze swept across the desert, his mouth a thin line. “I say we water the horses at the well there, then ride south a few miles. We can camp under the open for the night.”
If Delsie feared the departure from their typical evening routine, she didn’t say. Instead she simply slid off the saddle and led her mare toward the well. Amos followed suit, pulling his gun from his waistband. Myles located a broken bucket—one of the few things that hadn’t been taken from inside the station. While Amos stood guard, he managed to get enough water in the bucket for all three horses to drink. After that, he filled his and Amos’s canteens. Who knew when they’d find another water source?
Amos kept his gun at the ready as they saddled up and turned their mounts south, to skirt the nearby canyon. They picked their way among the sagebrush for several miles before the older man stopped them beside a clump of trees he called pinyon pines.
“I’ll see what I can hunt up in the way of food,” he said, dismounting. “Start the fire now, so we can be through with it before dark. Don’t need anyone else knowing we’re here.”
Myles tied up the horses as Delsie began gathering sticks. “I suppose it’s a good thing I learned how to cook when I did,” she said with a trace of amusement. “Do you think it will be like this the rest of the way to California?”
“It might be,” Myles answered honestly, taking the sticks from her. He set about starting the small fire, while she settled onto the ground nearby.
“Is Elijah off hunting, too?” She glanced up at the sky.
Myles nodded and coaxed the tiny flames to life with some dry grass and more twigs. “I suppose if Amos can’t find anything, we could share whatever rodent Elijah catches.” He meant the comment to be humorous, but Delsie didn’t laugh.
“Thank you, again, for doing this, Myles. You didn’t have to.” She drew a circle in the dirt with her finger. “And now I’ve landed us in the middle of the desert with marauding Indians and little food. Just to reach Lillie.” She lifted her chin to reveal raw anguish in her deep blue eyes. “If anything happened to you…or Amos…”
“We chose to come.” It was as simple as that. Or maybe, it wasn’t them who’d chosen, but rather Someone else choosing them instead. Either way he no longer had any doubts about the validity of their journey. He might have agreed in the beginning for the sake of his future, but he’d stumbled onto two things far more precious than even his dreams of a horse ranch—his friendship with Delsie and a renewed seed of faith. Charles would be proud.
“Besides,” he continued, “this isn’t just about reaching your sister. It’s about your family, Delsie.”
“And that’s something you can understand?” Her words were nearly identical to something she’d said that first day in Saint Joseph. Something he’d thought of over and over since.
He dipped his head in a nod, his eyes locked on hers. “That’s something I can understand—now.”
The smile she rewarded him with brought the distinct memory of kissing her to Myles’s mind. Not the chaste kiss of yesterday after they’d been rescued from near drowning, but the kiss they’d shared in the quiet barn. But giving in to his wish now would only increase the inevitable pain of goodbye later—for both of them. So he busied himself with the fire and with talking over what details Delsie knew about Lillie’s whereabouts until Amos came back.
“He’s a bit scrawny,” Amos said, hoisting the jackrabbit in his hand, “but he’ll do.”
Delsie insisted on skinning the creature herself, even when Myles volunteered to do it for her. He couldn’t help admiring her all the more as she set about the gruesome task without complaint or outward show of disgust. She’d changed a lot in the past two weeks. Or had she always possessed these qualities but hadn’t been given opportunity to cultivate them? He couldn’t help wondering if she would be content to return to her rich house and easy life after all she’d been through.
Once he’d thought her too pampered to survive in his world, but he’d been forced to reassess his opinion somewhere along the trail. Delsie would make any horse rider or rancher a fine wife. But it wouldn’t be him. The hard truth cut deep as Myles focused on making a spit from sticks to cook the rabbit.
Elijah returned soon afterward with a mouse and settled outside their little circle to eat. The horses picked at the few patches of grass nearby. For tonight, at least, they would all have something to eat, despite the less-than-optimal situation—Myles felt gratitude for that.
When the rabbit had been thoroughly cooked, Amos divided up the meat between the three of them. Myles noticed the older man took a slightly smaller portion for himself than what he handed Myles or Delsie. The feeling of thankfulness inside Myles grew larger at the gesture. Amos was not only a good man but a true friend. Myles vowed he wouldn’t take the man’s companionship for granted anymore.
After all the meat had been consumed, Myles doused the fire. The sun had set minutes before, taking the heat of the day with it. Delsie visibly shivered at the drop in temperature.
“It’ll be cold tonight,” Amos told them. “Better use the saddle blankets.”
Myles gathered the blankets and passed one to Delsie and to Amos. His own he spread out on the ground on the other side of Delsie. Amos quietly regaled them with a few stories from his youth and answered Delsie’s questions about his wife. Though he tried hard to listen, sleepiness stole over Myles and he drifted off.
Sometime later he jerked awake at the sound of something rustling nearby. He sat up, his hand on the revolver at his side, but it was only one of the horses shifting beside the trees. Taking a deep breath to calm his thudding heartbeat, he shot a look at Delsie. She’d curled into a ball beneath her blanket, and yet, Myles could see she was still shivering. Amos slept soundly on her other side, oblivious to her cold or the horse’s movements.
Myles hated the thought of her freezing and getting little sleep because of it. If he gave her his blanket, though, he’d end up just as cold and sleepless. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, considering what to do. In
the moonlight he spied the sturdy trunk of the closest pinyon pine. The branches began high enough on the tree that it formed an easy shelter to climb under.
Removing his blanket, he set it over Delsie and gathered her into his arms. She startled awake and blinked up at him.
“You’re quaking like an aspen tree, sleeping beauty,” he murmured, “but I’ve got an idea to keep you warm.”
He carried her to the pine and ducked beneath its branches. Resting his back against the trunk, he settled Delsie at his side and draped his blanket over them both.
“What will my father think?” Delsie said sleepily, even as she nestled beneath his arm. Warmth spread through him, as much from her nearness as from the contentment that filled him at holding her again.
Myles smoothed her hair and tucked her tighter against him. “Just tell him I promised to get you back in one piece, and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Thank…you…Myles.”
Shutting his eyes, Myles let his breathing even out and his body relax. Sleeping sitting up would likely mean a less than restful night and a kink in his neck by morning. But he didn’t care. If he couldn’t embrace Delsie forever—and he couldn’t—then he’d simply be grateful for this moment. This moment watching over the woman he’d come to care for more than Elijah or horse ranching or himself. A moment he would cherish for the rest of his life.
*
Delsie kept her eyes shut, even as she slowly began to wake. She’d never felt so content or comfortable—even more so than in that dugout, with its thick buffalo robes. Her hand loosely gripped soft fabric and warm air fanned her hair. A steady heartbeat thrummed in her ears. She pressed her cheek more snugly into the solid warmth beneath it. Until she heard a deep rumbling chuckle that vibrated through her chest.
“Would’ve thought you’d be warmed up by now.”
Reality doused Delsie with all the shock of ice water. She was dozing beside Myles and had been all night. She scrambled up, her face hot. What would her father do if he could see her? Any amount of freedom she’d enjoyed would be gone. She would likely be foisted off on Flynn to save her reputation.
