by Karen Kirst
Her demeanor today was collected and remote. Last night was another story. Gideon had been hard-pressed not to go near her. Maybe it was the starlight or the sense that they were alone in the vast prairie, or perhaps it was the sight of her glorious hair streaming past her shoulders combined with the huskiness of her voice when she admired his archery skills.
Long after she’d gone, his thoughts had been consumed by her. He’d awoken this morning relieved he couldn’t recall a single dream, for he sensed she’d never left his mind.
Taking a step forward, he lowered his voice. “What’s going on, Evelyn?”
She blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Yesterday you whisked Walt away the instant you discovered us in the barn. Today you act as if you couldn’t care less. Don’t tell me you’ve reconsidered my villain status in your fairy tale?”
“Of course not,” she snapped. Then, snagging her lower lip with her teeth, she worried the soft flesh. A line appeared between her dark brows. “He’s happy when he’s with you. I find I can’t deny him that.”
“I see. So I’m still a villain, but not so bad that I can’t spend time with your son. That’s something, I guess.”
“Gideon—” She broke off as the sound of approaching riders thundered across the plains.
Gideon recognized the riders’ uniforms. Cavalry soldiers coming to check up on them. As the pair neared, he saw that Private Jesse Wellington was not one of them.
“Walt,” Evelyn said as she leaned down to her son, “why don’t you get your fishing pole and catch us a fish or two for lunch?”
Taking his gaze off the soldiers, Gideon caught movement in the field beyond the stream. Lion and Shadow romped in the tall grass, their heads and tails visible. Confident they’d alert him to potential trouble, he turned back to deal with their unwelcome visitors.
After the shorter man with dirty-blond hair and a thick mustache dismounted, he slowly inspected the land in all directions. With a satisfied nod, he turned and preceded his partner, a dark-haired man whose wrinkled uniform bore stains on the knees, to where Gideon and Evelyn stood waiting.
Gloved hands bracketing a slim waist, the soldier’s attempt at a smile came off as more of a smirk. “Good morning to you both. I’m Private Sam McGraw. This here is Private Ryder Strafford. This is an official visit to assess how things are progressing between disputing parties.” Retrieving a small pad from his jacket pocket, he flipped through the pages until he landed on the desired one. “Am I addressing Gideon Thornton and Evelyn Montgomery?”
“That’s us.” Gideon attempted a civil tone when what he really wanted was to boot them off his land.
As the private lifted his head, a pair of arrogant blue eyes peered at them from beneath the brim of his navy blue hat. “Would either of you like to levy a complaint?”
“No.” Gideon sensed Evelyn’s scrutiny. What had she expected him to say? They were making the best of the situation, weren’t they?
Crossing her arms about her waist, she shook her head. “No.”
Ryder Strafford edged closer to her side. “Mrs. Montgomery, I’d like to extend my condolences on your husband’s death.”
“I...th-thank you.”
Gideon glared at the man’s insensitivity. As a stranger to her, he had no business bringing up a sensitive subject. And to what aim?
“Do you have any other family here?”
She frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the nosy questions. “Three brothers.”
Strafford nodded. At the sight of his superficial grin, Gideon’s hands curled into fists. “That’s good to hear. I would hate for a lovely woman like yourself to be out here in this wilderness alone and vulnerable.”
Her eyes flashed. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Private Strafford.”
He shot a grin at McGraw. “Tell me, Mrs. Montgomery, what are your brothers’ names?”
As she rattled them off, McGraw wrote in his pad.
“Why do you need that information?” Gideon demanded.
“It’s important we have next-of-kin information in case misfortune were to befall the land owner.”
“In that case, you’ll need my information, as well,” Gideon said.
McGraw looked up, meanness edging his smile. “No need, Mr. Thornton. I’m already acquainted with Brave Rock’s minister and sheriff.”
He supposed that wasn’t unusual. The cavalry soldiers that had been dispatched to provide security during last month’s land rush had stuck around to assist local law enforcement in ironing out land disputes. They would’ve met Clint in an official capacity. And as Brave Rock’s preacher, Elijah met a great number of folks during the course of his duties.
Strafford again addressed Evelyn. “Are any of your brothers married or are they all single?”
“I hardly see how that has any bearing on our case.”
McGraw’s fingers tightened on the pencil poised above his pad. “Mrs. Montgomery, please allow us to do our job. You wouldn’t want us to get into trouble with our superiors, would you?”
“Theo, Brett and Reid are all single.”
The soldier dipped his head. “Thank you.” When he’d finished, he snapped the pad shut. “I believe that will be all for today.”
“Can you tell us how long before our dispute will go before the court?” Evelyn asked.
“Hard to say.” He stroked his mustache. “Could be a month. Maybe two.”
“Two months?”
Gideon’s reaction echoed the despondency in her voice. Two months stretched out in front of him like the endless prairie with no water supply. How was he supposed to maintain crucial distance with these two around day in and day out?
When McGraw bid them good day and headed for his horse, Strafford lingered. “Mrs. Montgomery, are you familiar with where our quarters are located?”
“Behind the general store?”
His blue eyes gleamed, and his ingratiating manner irked Gideon. “That’s right. If you have any need to contact me, you can find me there. I’m available day or night. No matter what the hour, I’m willing to assist you.”
Gut tight with disapproval, Gideon wedged himself between the soldier and Evelyn. “Mrs. Montgomery will not be visiting the soldiers’ quarters at any time. If she has a problem, you can expect a visit from one of her brothers.”
Strafford’s eyes flared. “You should allow the lady to speak for herself.”
“And you should know better than to suggest a respectable lady visit an all-male environment on her own, no matter what the time.”
Evelyn’s slender fingers encircled his wrist. “Gideon, please, it’s all right.”
Her touch shattered all logical thought. Her skin was cool and comforting against his heated flesh. Angling his head toward her, he probed her pleading gaze and experienced an unexpected sense of oneness. For a split second, they were unified on something. Connected. And it felt amazing.
Sam McGraw beckoned to his partner. “Time to go, Strafford.”
With a scowl at Gideon, the soldier doffed his hat to Evelyn. “Good day, Mrs. Montgomery.” Then he pivoted on his heel and strode away.
When the men rode in the direction they’d come, Evelyn must’ve realized she was still grasping his wrist. A tiny gasp assailed his ear a second before she yanked her hand away. Turning, he watched as she locked her hands behind her back. Uncertainty commanded her expression.
“I’m not sorry I set him straight,” he said before she could read him the riot act. “He shouldn’t have suggested such a thing to you.”
“He was impertinent. Thank you for standing up for me.”
Gideon nodded, not sure how to respond to her surprising gratitude. He studied the retreating mounts. Something about those soldiers struck him wrong. “I can’t s
ay why, but I don’t trust them.”
“Their questions did seem unnecessary.”
And their manner peculiar, especially Strafford’s. He was clearly interested in the lovely widow. “Do you own a gun?”
Her brows shot up. “I have a small derringer that Reid gave me. Why?”
“That wouldn’t subdue a cat. I’ll loan you a Colt for those times when I’m not around.”
“You really think the soldiers would do something unlawful? They are employed by our government.”
“I would hope not. They brought up a valid point, however. A woman out here alone, without protection...” He paused, unwilling to voice the number of horrors slinking through his mind. He sucked in a steadying breath. “I think it’s wise to be prepared.”
“And here I thought you were the one I shouldn’t trust.”
Gideon winced. Why did she insist on ruining every moment of peace between them?
Shading her eyes with one hand, she hitched up her skirts and turned to search the horizon. His gaze followed hers, the quiet suddenly striking him as odd.
“Gideon,” she breathed, “where’s Walt?”
Chapter Seven
Evelyn broke into a jog, her frantic gaze continuously scanning the fields, the campsite, the tall trees edging both sides of the stream. There was no sign of Walt. No flash of raven hair or white shirt.
Behind her, Gideon’s piercing whistles for his dogs went unanswered. That could be good or bad, she reasoned. Lion and Shadow could’ve gone exploring on their own, or they could’ve accompanied Walt wherever he’d wandered off to.
Please lead me to him, God. Help me not to imagine the worst.
Halting at the stream, she spotted his abandoned rod and pail. Her stomach knotted into a hard ball. “Okay, be reasonable, Evelyn,” she whispered, her fingernails biting into her palms. Their conversation with the soldiers hadn’t lasted more than fifteen minutes. He couldn’t have gone far.
Gideon rode up on Star, his features set in determined lines. He extended a large tanned hand to her. “Let’s find him.”
She didn’t hesitate. Placing her hand in his, she let him haul her up behind him onto the palomino’s broad, bare back. He nudged the horse into motion. Down the sloping bank, across the pebble-dotted streambed and up the other side. Water droplets dampened her hem. Without stirrups to balance herself, she started to slide sideways.
“Put your arms around me.”
She swallowed the instinctive protest. It was either do as he commanded or land in the dirt. Gingerly, Evelyn looped her arms about his waist and, locking her fingers where the buttons marched down his shirt, attempted to keep the physical contact between them to a minimum. The powerful horse’s brisk trot made that all but impossible, however. Her chin dug into his shoulder and her upper body bounced off his back. The brim of his Stetson glanced off her cheek.
Gideon’s chest expanded in a deep sigh. Glancing over his shoulder, he presented her with his harshly beautiful profile. “Unlock your fingers.”
“What? I’ll fall off.”
His sculpted lips flattened. “Just trust me.”
Ha! As if she’d ever do that. With an unladylike snort, she let go. His warm palm covering hers, he guided her to crisscross her arms about his middle, a move that brought her flush against the solid expanse of his back. Soft cotton brushed her cheek. Blazing heat seeped through the material, sending her temperature climbing. As he guided Star across the prairie, his taut stomach and chest muscles flexed and adjusted to every dip in the terrain.
Not since the early months of her marriage five years ago had she been this close to a man. After Walt’s birth, Drake had mostly kept his distance. There’d been signs suggesting he’d found satisfaction in other women’s arms, signs she’d kept silent about. What good would confronting him have done? Not only would it have incited even more strife in her sham of a marriage, it would’ve put her brothers in danger. If they’d had the slightest inkling about Drake’s unfaithfulness, they would’ve killed him. And she would’ve been forced to watch them hang for their crime. So she’d turned a blind eye, channeled her love and affection to her son, refusing to acknowledge the loneliness suffocating her soul. Now, gliding with her as one across the sun-washed prairie, this man of contradictions—a man she was supposed to loathe—was unearthing the dangerous, almost desperate need for connection she’d fought long and hard to bury.
A tremor racked her body.
Misconstruing her reaction, his hand came to rest atop her forearm in a reassuring gesture. “We’ll find him, Evelyn.” His deep voice vibrated with compassion and understanding.
Furious with herself for sparing even a second on him when her precious son was missing, she clamped her jaw and nodded, forced her mind to focus on their surroundings. Rolling fields of knee-high grasses interspersed with brown-eyed Susans spread out around them; clusters of oaks and elms dotted the horizon. With every acre they traveled farther from camp, her heart shriveled a little more.
Fingers bunching in Gideon’s shirt, she peered over his shoulder to study his profile. “Are coyotes active at this time of day? What about wolves? A-and snakes?” One bite from a poisonous snake would be enough to—
“Evelyn.” She was startled to realize he was still cradling her hand. He angled his head to meet her troubled gaze. The clear gray pools reflected confidence. “Don’t torture yourself.”
I trust him. In this, at least, I trust him. The acknowledgment rippled through her like a mighty earthquake. Gideon was a work-roughened cowboy, wise and strong and capable. If anyone could find her son, it was this man.
* * *
Gideon called Walt’s name again, then Lion’s and Shadow’s. A hawk swooped across the sky to their right, his piercing cry the only response. Not the one he was hoping for.
Scanning the landscape, he adjusted the canteen resting against his thigh. Where could the boy have wandered off to?
Despite his reassurances to Evelyn, deep inside, a squall brewed. Very real worry swirled through his chest, driving the breath from his lungs. A small child was vulnerable out here. More than wild animals, Gideon was concerned about heat exhaustion. The sun’s merciless heat made it feel more like mid-July than early May.
Behind him Evelyn had grown unnaturally quiet. He could practically feel her terror leaching into him. Still covering her hand, he stroked the silken skin with his thumb, wishing he could take away her fear, and frustrated because he was powerless to do so.
God in heaven, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I’m not asking anything for myself. I’m asking for her. Please, protect Walt. Guide us to him.
The prayer wasn’t an easy one to offer. There was no way of knowing what God’s answer would be, but he had to try. He knew what it was to fear for a child’s life, and he wouldn’t wish that particular brand of misery on his worst enemy, not even a Chaucer.
When he slowed Star to a walk, Evelyn stiffened. “Why are we slowing?” Her voice rose. “We can’t slow down. My son needs me.”
“We must stop for a quick drink.” He guided his mount beneath a maple tree’s branches. “I don’t want you passing out on me.”
This was met with silence. As soon as Star halted, Evelyn removed her arms from his midsection and slid jerkily to the ground. Gideon told himself he didn’t miss her nearness, the feminine softness surrounding him, the sweet scent of gardenias that clung to her hair. In fact, the personal contact was making him antsy. He’d gone without it for too long and, if he wasn’t careful, could wind up craving more, something that absolutely could not happen.
He was destined to live out the rest of his days alone.
Dismounting, he lifted the strap from his shoulder and, ducking his head under, handed her the canteen. She took a shallow sip and held it out to him.
He shoo
k his head. “Take another drink.”
“We have to save some for Walt.”
“There’ll be enough.”
Taking another drink, she passed it to him without a word and began to pace, swatting away the tiny sweat bees hovering around. Near her ears, wisps of hair dislodged by the breeze brushed her cheekbones. A slender gold chain clung to her throat and disappeared beneath the mint-green collar. Her smooth olive skin glistened with a damp sheen.
Gideon averted his gaze, trying to ignore the fact that his lips were touching the same spot hers had just occupied. He took two swigs, recapped the canteen and settled it once more across his shoulder. “Walt wouldn’t have traveled this far in the short head start he had on us. We should circle back.”
Desperate hope flickered in her features. “He could already be back at camp.”
“It’s a possibility,” he agreed, daring to share her hope.
Once more astride Star, he assisted her up. Light as a feather and agile, she settled against him as if she’d ridden bareback her entire life. A reluctant sigh tickled his ear. Then she snaked her arms around him. Her hands gripped the sides of his shirt above his waistband, small and warm and trusting.
He steeled himself against the pleasure washing over him. Focus on the task at hand, Thornton. “Let’s go find your son.”
For the next half hour, Gideon closed his mind to everything save signs that might direct them to Walt. Trampled grass, broken stalks, dog droppings. There was nothing.
Evelyn started to shake. Hearing her hitched breaths, he suspected she was giving in to her worst imaginings. He had to do something to distract her.
Taking hold of her hand, he said, “I remember one time my younger brother, Clint, wandered off during a game of hide-and-seek. Since Elijah was the oldest, he picked the best hiding places and it would take me and Clint ages to find him. I guess that day he got tired of searching and went off to explore. Of course, it was a long time before we realized he was gone, and by then it was nearing suppertime.”
