The Tracker

by Mary Burton

  “Can feel it in my bones.”

  Some men had a knack for calling the weather and she didn’t doubt Nick was one of them. “Annie said the valley had seen more than its share of storms this summer.”

  “Today’s is going to be a big one.”

  “I’d best hurry, then. The cow is skittish and it doesn’t take much to dry her milk up.” Ellie moved into the barn, slowing her pace as her gaze adjusted to the dimmer light. Hay lay in a large pile by the front door. The low-ceilinged room had eight stalls, four on each side of the barn. The room smelled musty, earthy. Mice scrambled overhead in the loft. “Your horse is in the last stall. She’s a temperamental one.”

  Nick strode to the stall. The horse came to him immediately, nudging his hand with her nose. “Aurora and I have ridden thousands of miles together. She’s never let me down.”

  Ellie felt a stab of jealousy. “I’ve never been able to say the same about a horse or person.”

  Sadness sharpened his gaze. “You’re cynical for one so young.”

  Balancing Rose on her shoulder, Ellie picked up her bucket and went into the first stall, where the cow stood. “No, just practical.”

  She set her bucket down and pulled down the blanket draped over the side of the stall. She rigged a sling between the sides of the stall and laid Rose in the center.

  “I offered to hold the baby,” he said, striding toward the stall.

  “No need. Rose is happy to watch me milk.”

  He leaned against the entrance to the stall and tickled the baby’s toes. She kicked and smiled.

  His hair was brushed back off his face and she realized that he’d shaved. Her skin tingled as her gaze skimmed his full lips.

  “You’re an independent one, aren’t you?”

  She sighed. She didn’t feel independent most times. She felt frightened and alone. “It’s the only way to be.”

  “It’s been my experience that women don’t want independence, but marriage,” he said.

  She glanced up at him. She thought of the lovely Crystal. “I’ve seen too many women throw all their hopes in with a man and then see them crushed. Men just are not suited for marriage.”

  “Not all men leave their women,” he said. His voice now held an edge.

  “Then why aren’t you with your wife?” she challenged. There, she’d asked the question that had plagued her since the moment she’d found the photo. But the instant she asked it, she felt foolish.

  His eyes narrowed.

  “I searched your saddlebag that first night. I was curious. I saw the picture.”

  For a moment she didn’t think he was going to answer her. “She died ten years ago.”

  “Oh.” Embarrassed, she started to milk the cow, but Crystal’s story continued to swirl in her mind. “What happened?”

  Silent, he stared down at Rose. “She died giving birth.”

  Her mind immediately returned to the night Jade had given birth to Rose. She’d not known Jade well, but the sadness had been so great. At least Rose had survived. “What of the child?”

  “Died with his mother.” His flat tone hinted of deeper emotions.

  “I’m sorry.” She did her best to lose herself in the rhythm of the milking. But Nick’s presence invaded her senses. His scent, his presence, even the rhythm of his breathing, filled up her brain so that she couldn’t think of anything else but him.

  Rose started to yell, clamoring for attention.

  Nick picked the baby up.

  A surge of panic exploded in Ellie as he took Rose. Her body tensed, ready to fight.

  “Relax,” he said. “I won’t drop her.”

  This time she didn’t argue. He’d lost a wife and son. If holding Rose gave him a bit of comfort, then so be it.

  “She doesn’t weigh more than a boot.” He tucked the baby into the crook of his arm.

  “She’s been a small one since day one.” Ellie finished the milking and stood with the full pail. The milk sloshed over her hands.

  “I’ll carry the pail,” he offered, grabbing the handle.

  “No, you could rip a stitch. Just carry Rose. I’ll manage the milk.”

  He held on to the bucket. “Lead the way. I think that bacon should be ready soon, and I’m hungry.”

  She walked beside him, careful not to move far away in case he stumbled or lost his hold on Rose.

  He followed her up the front steps and into the house. He set the milk on the table and then laid Rose in her bed by the hearth. She started to cry, so he jiggled her cradle as Ellie moved a fry pan to the stovetop and cracked several eggs into it. She glanced at the bacon. “You cooked.”

  “I was hungry and bacon’s about all I can cook.”

  “You didn’t burn it.” The eggs sizzled as the whites hardened. She flipped them over with a spatula.

  Nick picked up Rose and held her in his arms, talking softly into her ear. The child’s eyes widened with interest.

  If anyone were to ride up to the cabin, they’d have thought the threesome a normal family.

  Normal.

  Ellie almost laughed at the thought. Nothing about her life had been normal, including this current situation.

  “I’ll protect you from Frank. And when he’s captured, I’ll leave you in peace.”

  A bitter taste settled in her mouth. “Don’t make me any promises, Nick. They don’t mean much to me. I’ve seen too many broken.”

  “I never break my promises.”

  She snorted.

  He stared at her for what seemed an eternity. “I guess I’m just going to have to prove myself to you.”

  BY THE TIME they’d cleared the breakfast dishes, dark clouds had covered the blue sky and the wind had increased.

  Nick set the freshly dried dishes on the counter by the washbasin. “The horses are in the barn. I’d best get them outside so they don’t hurt themselves.”

  “Aren’t they better off inside? They won’t like the rain.”

  “Rain won’t hurt them. But if they get spooked by the thunder while they are confined in their stalls, they could injure themselves.”

  Nick moved to the door and opened it. The breeze flapped the folds of his shirt. He reached for his duster, which now hung on the peg by the door.

  Wiping her hands on her apron, Ellie glanced down at the sleeping infant and then hurried to the door. The whinnies of the horses drifted with the wind. The brewing storm had the animals’ nerves dancing.

  She didn’t like dealing with horses. Their size intimidated her and she simply didn’t understand them. Annie had said they all had their own personalities, but Ellie had decided if that were true, they were all stuck up and they didn’t like her. None ever seemed to do what she wanted.

  “I will get the horses,” she said. “You could easily injure yourself.”

  “I’ve been around horses all my life.”

  “You’ve a gunshot wound in your leg that’s only just started to heal. It won’t take much to tear it open.”

  “I’ll manage.” He held out his duster. “But you take my coat. The skies are about to open up.”

  She hesitated. She considered arguing, then dismissed the idea. The man was stubborn, and worry over the horses and the storm drained the fight from her.

  Ellie slid her arms into his coat. It smelled of him—earthy and masculine—and it engulfed her. “Nick, I will trip and fall if I wear this coat.”

  “Let me help. The coat will keep you dry.” Efficiently he rolled up the sleeves.

  He towered over her and the warmth from his body pulled her closer. She wanted to lean into him, to tell him to wrap his arms around her. Instead she held her breath, staring up at him.

  As if sensing her gaze on him, he looked down. For a moment they stood there, unable to move.

  A crack of thunder exploded outside. Seconds later, lightning sliced across the sky. Ellie jumped.

  “Let’s get the horses outside,” he said.

  Hugging her arms around her chest, sh
e followed Nick toward the corral. Her skirts whipped around her ankles and her hair quickly escaped its topknot. Fat droplets of rain started to fall. Thunder cracked again in the distance.

  Nick strode to the barn. It wouldn’t take much to rip the stitches that weren’t due to come out for another two days. Yet he didn’t seem to care as he went inside the barn.

  Ellie unlatched the gate and opened it. Nick emerged with two horses. His black mare, Aurora, pranced and bobbed her head, but she stayed steady as Nick guided the animal past Ellie and into the corral. He turned the mare and a gelding named Timmy loose and hurried back outside the fence. She closed the gate.

  Thunder boomed over their heads. “I’ll bring the others,” Nick shouted. More lightning sliced the sky.

  Nick emerged with more horses. Ellie took the reins of the first, a gelding called Brown Spots, as Nick turned the other, Joey, loose in the corral. Brown Spots pulled at his reins, nearly knocking Ellie over.

  “Settle down,” Nick shouted to Brown Spots. The animal quieted immediately.

  “Yeah, he’s good at ordering folks around,” Ellie said to the horse.

  The raindrops pinged faster against the earth. Soon, the rain was coming down in sheets and the dry earth quickly became mud. The water beaded on Nick’s coat, but mud quickly coated Ellie’s boots and the hem of her dress.

  Nick let Brown Spots loose. Ellie, knowing they had little time, headed to the barn to get the remaining horse—Onyx, who was skittish on the best of days. Onyx left his stall with no trouble, but when they got outside in the wind and rain, he pawed at the dirt. Of all the horses, she liked him the least. And he felt the same about her.

  Ellie tugged at the noose around Onyx’s neck. “Do us both a favor and follow me to the corral without giving me trouble.”

  Rain had her eyes narrowing as she guided the horse to the corral. Ellie had nearly reached the gate when thunder clapped.

  The horse reared, desperate to get free. Ellie would have let the animal go, uncaring if she ever saw it again, but Annie had taken a liking to Onyx.

  The muscles in her arms tightened as she struggled to hold on to the rope. Her grip slipped. Her foot caught on the hem of Nick’s coat and she lost her footing. She went down to her knees. Fearing the horse would crush her skull with his hooves, she struggled to stand.

  Nick pushed her hand aside and, with a jerk of the rope, commanded the horse to stand still. It did. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  He led the horse inside the corral. She slipped a second time before she managed to stand and head toward the porch at the same time as Nick.

  The fabric of Nick’s shirt clung to his body, exaggerating his broad shoulders and large arms. He took her breath away.

  The rain had not enhanced her appearance, however. She was drenched and coated in mud.

  “You have a tub?” he asked.

  She tried to brush the mud from her skirt but only managed to smear it more. “There’s one out back hanging on the wall,” she said absently.

  “I’ll fetch it. You’re a mess.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid of a little dirt.”

  “You’ll catch your death if you don’t get warm and put on dry clothes.” As if to demonstrate, he unbuttoned his shirt, shrugged out of it and hung it on a chair.

  “I’ll be fine.” She didn’t want to change into the dress Annie had given her. It was far too fine for everyday chores.

  “Damn, woman, but you are stubborn.” Without waiting for her, he retrieved the tub and set it in the kitchen by the stove. He returned with a large pot from the stove and then set it out in the rain. It quickly filled and he brought it back inside.

  Panic flickered in Ellie. “I’m not stripping down and bathing with you in the house.”

  “I’ll stay outside and give you all the privacy you need. I give you my word.”

  “Your word. What good is that to me?”

  He lifted the pot full of rainwater and set it on the stove. “Now is as good a time as any for you to learn that you can trust me.”

  Gooseflesh puckered Ellie’s chilled skin as her gaze dipped to his bare chest. The thought that he’d be even within shouting distance of her while she undressed seemed too much to consider. “No.”

  He leaned forward a fraction. “Suit yourself, but when you get sick, and you will, then I’m going to have to strip you down myself, wash you off and put you into bed.”

  Her heart pounded against her ribs.

  “And,” he added, “I will have to take care of Rose. I’ll feed her and keep her changed, but I don’t know anything about really mothering a child.”

  Her indignation softened a fraction. “A little mud and water aren’t going to make me sick.” She tried to speak with confidence, but he’d hit a nerve.

  Nick found a towel and dried his black hair. He went to his saddlebag, pulled out a clean shirt and within minutes looked as if he’d never tussled with a couple of horses in the rain.

  She probably looked like a rat that had been dragged out of a flooded mine shaft.

  Ellie sighed. She was being foolish. If she did catch a chill and got sick, Rose wouldn’t have anybody. “Fine.”

  Nick shrugged. “You’re not doing me any favors.”

  She sat on the crate by the front door, unlaced her boots and set them side-by-side next to the door. She peeled off her wet stockings. Her skin puckered with the damp cold.

  The idea of a hot bath tempted her so.

  “Do you have anything else to wear?” he said. He set another pot out in the rain to collect more water.

  “Annie gave me a dress.” She’d never put on the store-bought garment. There’d been enough times she’d touched the fabric and dreamed of wearing the dress, but the occasion had never seemed special enough.

  She went inside to the trunk at the base of her bed and opened it. She pulled out the simple blue calico. The material felt soft and the fabric smelled clean and fresh instead of like bacon grease and biscuits.

  Nick set the second pot of rainwater on the stove. It would take a half hour before the two pots were fully heated—time enough to brush the tangles from her hair.

  From the chest, she dug out the ivory comb Annie had given her and then sat by the stove, soaking up the warmth into her chilled skin. She started with the ends of her hair, knowing it would take her a good half hour to work her way up through the tangles. Lord, if she’d only been blessed with straight hair, her life would have been a dozen times easier.

  Nick sat with his book and opened it. He turned a page and her gaze was drawn to his long fingers. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the dark hair of his forearms.

  A strange warmth spread from her belly through her limbs. Just looking at this man put her senses on alert.

  This was bad. Very bad.

  FRANK HUDDLED under a horse blanket as the rain pelted him. They way he figured it, he was about five days from the town of Thunder Canyon. There he’d get some real grub and find out if anyone had seen Ellie. The good thing about that red hair of hers was that folks rarely forgot it. He sure hadn’t.

  Water dripped from his nose and he shifted, burrowing deeper under the blanket. He’d been on the move since the night he’d shot Monty and he was getting damn tired of the hard living and the loneliness.

  And the truth was, he missed Monty. Since they was kids, they’d been two peas in a pod. There’d been many nights that he sorely regretted killing him. If he hadn’t been so mad, he might not have shot him. But when he’d found out that Jade and Monty had run off with the gold, he’d gone a little crazy.

  Now his temper had cooled. And he knew deep down Monty wasn’t bad. He was just a fool. Nothing had been right since Monty had met Jade. Jade had figured out what he’d liked and from then on had led him around by his Johnson. “Poor, dumb clod,” Frank muttered. He hugged his blanket tighter.

  Fact was, it was his fault Monty had met Jade. He’d been the one
who had insisted they stop by the Silver Slipper when they were in Butte. Frank had a fondness for the redhead who’d worked in the kitchens. He’d never had the nerve to talk to her, but he liked being close to her. Her lily-white arms and the freckles on her nose warmed his heart. He liked it especially when she cooked those apple pies in the fall. He could close his eyes and imagine just for a moment that he was home in Missouri. In those days, his mama and pop were still well, and life was simple and clean.

  Monty had met Jade at the Silver Slipper. And from the moment she’d got her hooks into him, it had been all downhill.

  And now he was alone.

  A cold chill shuddered down Frank’s spine.

  He closed his eyes and pictured Ellie. She had eyes as green as moss, though you had to look close to see them. She always kept her head down. Though she didn’t talk much, he’d heard her speak to Adeline. Her voice had been as clear as church bells.

  The night he’d shot Monty, there’d been terror in her eyes and he knew he’d been the one to put the fear in her. That, he regretted. She had a good, clean heart and he hated exposing her to such evil.

  But he intended to make it all right between them. Ellie deserved better than the Silver Slipper and he aimed to see she got the better things in life.

  Once he found Ellie, everything would be all right. He knew deep in his bones that his Ellie was the key to the gold. She’d been holding Monty’s baby—his own flesh and blood—and she’d been the last to see Jade.

  Frank didn’t blame her for running. She’d been scared.

  But once he found her, he’d explain everything. And once he had his gold, he’d have the means to ask for her hand in marriage. Together, they could raise Monty’s baby.

  He’d have his family back.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ELLIE SAT on the kitchen chair, her eyes closed, still combing tangles from her wavy hair. Every nerve in her body tingled at the thought of bathing with Nick so near.

  She dreamed of him working the suds into her hair and over her skin. She thought about the feel of his lips against hers. The touch of his fingertips against her skin.