by Merry Farmer
Lynne didn’t answer. She clutched the towel tighter around her chest and sidestepped to meet him as he stepped onto the dried grass beside the stream. Her silence set his nerves on edge.
“It’s your boots,” she said at last.
Cade’s tension fell into confusion. “My boots?” he said, striding to the bush. What the devil could be so upsetting about his—
Behind the bush, separate from the rest of his clothes, his boots lay in tatters. The leather had been sliced clean to ribbons and separated from the soles. Long, thin scars marked the soles where he could see them. The laces were shredded.
He was instantly on the alert and spitting mad. He scooped one of the shredded boots off the ground and studied it for a moment before glancing around. The area near the stream was open, nothing but grass and a few scrubby bushes between it and the cottonwood trees that marked the edge of Fr. Kearny. Callie and John were still in discussion farther up the stream as they dressed. The miners cavorted as though nothing was out of the ordinary downstream. Closer to the fort, a handful of groups were either coming or going. Ben walked toward them with a basket of laundry.
“Ben!” Cade called, marching across the grass to meet him. “Did you see anyone lingering around our things just now?”
Ben picked up his pace to meet Cade closer to the stream. “No, sir, I didn’t see nothin’.”
Cade’s frown deepened. Somebody had to have seen something. He twisted to study the miners again, counting them. How many had there been when he and Lynne were in the water? He checked the groups of people walking away from the stream. They were all families, most with young children.
The hair stood up on the back of his neck.
“He’s here,” he said, low and cautious.
“W-who?” Lynne asked. She had thrown her blouse and petticoat on and was halfway through fastening her skirt.
Cade turned and marched back to her. He needed to get her out of the open as quickly as possible.
“Whoever is trying to hurt you,” he said, leaning closer. “And I sure as hell am not going to let them.”
For a flash like lightning, fear zipped across Lynne’s face. Just when her eyes grew as wide as he thought eyes could get, she tensed, then let out a breath. With obvious effort, her expression went flat.
“Really, Cade? No one is out to hurt me. Honestly.”
Cade stood straighter, towering over her. “Denying something like this,” he held his ruined boot out to her, “is not going to keep you safe.”
“No one is trying to hurt me,” she insisted. She finished with her skirt and stiffened as she faced him. “Are they, Ben?”
“No, ma’am, I sure hope not,” Ben answered her, breaking into a bashful smile, unable to meet her eyes.
“See?” she said, throwing out an arm to point at Cade’s boot. “It was probably just an animal of some sort that did that. Why, the prairie has coyotes and things, doesn’t it?”
“We would have seen a coyote,” Cade said. He marched past her to pick up his other boot. “We would have seen or heard any animal that was big enough to do this.”
But not a human. It was the only animal that could have made cuts that clean, and they hadn’t seen or heard anyone near the bush.
Because they had been distracted. Because he had let his guard down and let his little head do the thinking. He’d let his guard down once before when it mattered and disaster had befallen. Only now, with Lynne, the stakes were much higher. He wasn’t going to let it happen again.
“I need to speak to Pete Evans,” he said, scooping his clothes up. “I need to talk to the whole damn U.S. Army.” He started to walk back to the fort, leaving Ben behind with the laundry. Lynne followed him.
“None of them are going to speak to you at all if you march back looking like that,” she said.
“It doesn’t matter what I look like, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”
“Interesting choice of words.”
The sauce in her tone had him twisting to frown at her. She was watching him intently.
“What are you looking at?” he demanded.
“Your derriere,” she answered with enough wickedness in her eyes to take down a coyote and half the prairie with it.
Every inch of him was hot in a heartbeat. His groin tightened, screaming at him to pick up exactly where they’d left off in the river.
A moment later and he was furious.
He swayed closer to her. “You are not going to distract me from doing what I have to do by….”
“By what?” she challenged him.
He clenched his jaw, body warring with his mind, desire battling responsibility. The only reasonable thing he could do was turn away from her, drop his boots, and start getting dressed. He did it with a sigh.
“I am going to put an end to this,” he said. “I am going to find whoever is threatening you and bring them to justice.”
The pinched look that touched her face and then vanished was all he needed to know she wasn’t completely blind to the threat, even when she said, “You’re just wasting your time.” She turned away from him and marched back to the river. “Ben, do you need help with the laundry?”
“Why, I’d—”
“No, you’re coming with me,” Cade insisted before Ben could answer.
He fastened his pants and shrugged into his shirt, then stormed back to hook his arm around hers and force her to change directions.
She huffed in frustration. “You are no gentleman.”
“I think we’ve already established that,” he said.
Lynne was willing to go with him as far as the sea of wagons parked beside the fort. Callie and John had made it back from the stream by then as well, and Lynne jumped at the chance to get away from Cade and help with the wedding. Cade grudgingly let her go. He trusted her friends to not try to kill her when his back was turned. Barely. Aside from that, he needed a little bit of distance to think through his next moves.
He needed new boots, for one. Whoever had slashed his to pieces knew their way around a knife. First the photograph of Judge Tremaine, now this. A knife was no match for firepower, though.
“What do you have for sale in terms of firearms?” he asked the eager cashier behind the counter at the supply depot as he plunked down not one, but two new pairs of boots and a box of soap.
“Rifle or revolver?” the man asked, all smiles.
Cade paused to consider, he had a rifle, and it wasn’t likely he would need to confront a would-be assassin at a distance. “What kind of revolvers do you have?”
The cashier turned to a wall of shelves behind him and took out a heavy tray. He balanced it carefully and brought it to the counter.
“Stock is low with the war on back East,” he said. “It’s hard to get resupplied this far away from the conflict, even with the threat of Indians. But I’ve got a couple of Colts and this very interesting Cooper Pocket Revolver.”
Cade picked up the Cooper and turned it over. It was small and light with a five ball cylinder. It was the kind of thing that could be kept concealed if it needed to be. Just what he was looking for.
“I’ll take the Cooper,” he said, setting the gun down and reaching for his wallet. George Tremaine had given him a budget for just this sort of thing, but he had a reasonable amount of his own money too. “You know what, I’ll take one of the Colt revolvers as well. You can never be too careful.”
The cashier’s brow flew up, whether from surprise that Cade would spend that much money or that he was arming himself with so much power, he didn’t know and didn’t care. He purchased the two guns and ammunition and tucked them into his belt to show he meant business.
He ran into Pete Evans on the way out of the supply depot.
“Mr. Evans, I need to talk to you,” he said.
Pete paused as he strode past the depot. “You’ll have to talk quick,” he said. “I’m on my way to a wedding, then I’ve got to make sure we’re fully stocked for the next leg of
the journey.”
“That’s just what I was doing,” Cade replied, running a hand across the handle of the Colt at his waist.
Pete noticed the motion and frowned. “What’s all that about?”
Cade matched step with his as they headed toward the wagons. Pete Evans was young for a trail boss. He had a rough and wary look that came from making the trip to the Pacific coast and back several times in his life, starting when he was a boy and Oregon City was barely a thought in the back of someone’s mind. Of all the men Cade had met on the trail so far, he trusted Pete the most.
“I told you that I’m taking Miss Tremaine to her uncle in Denver City.”
“You did.” Pete nodded.
“Well, whoever made those threats against her is in our wagon train.”
Pete paused to frown at him.
“They’ve left a few ‘presents’ for her.”
“What do you mean?”
“First, they cut up a photograph of her father. Got into her wagon somehow to do it in spite of the fact that I was right there. Then, just now, whoever it is sliced up my boots while we were down at the stream having a bath.” His face heated at the memory in spite of the direness of the situation. It was a reaction he was going to have to learn to control.
Pete crossed his arms and rubbed the scruff on his chin. “Sure it wasn’t an animal that got your boots?”
“You should have seen them,” Cade sighed. “Animals don’t make precision cuts.”
Pete nodded gravely and they walked on. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“Keep your eyes and ears open,” he said. “Watch out for any sort of strange behavior from anyone. I’m not gonna lie, I think that group of miners we’ve got with us is a little shifty.”
Pete huffed an ironic laugh. “Mr. Lawson, I’ve had my hands full with that lot since the day we set out from Independence, and they’re only gonna get worse before they get better. I’ll keep my eyes peeled as much as I can for this sneak of yours, but I’ve got a couple hundred people in my care to keep an eye out for too.”
The comment settled uneasily in Cade’s gut. It wasn’t a dismissal, but it wasn’t the outpouring of concern and promise of immediate action he was hoping for.
Pete must have noticed his disappointment. He slapped Cade on the shoulder as they reached the edge of the wagons where the wedding was set up and said, “I’ll do my best.”
It would have to do, for now. The best was all that anyone could hope to do. Or so he had thought. He wouldn’t fail this time. He wouldn’t let George Tremaine or Judge Tremaine down. He wouldn’t let a hair on Lynne’s head be touched.
He edged his way into the small circle of well-wishers gathered to support Callie Lewis and John Rye as they did the nearly unthinkable and got married. As far as Cade knew, they’d hardly spoken a word to each other until a few days ago, and now here they were, being joined as one. Reverend Joseph looked as nervous as Cade was sure Callie and John felt as he rushed through the ceremony. In fact, Callie and John seemed resigned. The reverend was the only nervous one.
Cade peeked at Lynne. Dammit, but she looked beautiful, still damp from the stream, wearing the same soiled clothes. She looked worried too. It had to be her true feelings about the threat at the stream showing through. That or concern for her friends making a major decision about their lives on the spur of the moment.
He shifted his stance and stared at her harder as the reverend stumbled on. Lynne was far and away the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. She was full of fire. It would take more than a few threats to subdue her, and he loved that. Loved it. The word dredged up a wealth of feeling in his chest. He shot a glance to the happy couple now reciting the simplest of wedding vows, then peeked back at Lynne. Her face relaxed into a smile as the ceremony reached the “I do’s.”
Would he marry her? If she had had nothing in the world and no one to help her, would he risk his whole future happiness to make her his wife and bring her under his protection?
The answer came to him clear as day in tandem with John Rye’s solemn, “I do.”
He would. He’d marry Lynne in a heartbeat. Kissing her had sealed that. But had her kiss been just a show of bravery or would she say yes if it came to it? He grinned at the thought and rubbed the handle of the Colt in his belt. He had to keep her safe long enough to give him the chance to ask the question.
Chapter Six
Shortly after the sun rose the next day, they were on the trail once more. Lynne wasn’t sure if she was relieved to be away from Ft. Kearny, or if leaving the tiny dot of civilization for the vastness of the prairie was leaving a part of herself behind. The entire wagon train was in a more somber mood than when they had set out from Independence, but she didn’t know whether to smile or rage. She had kissed Cade Lawson. Did that make her brave or a fallen woman? Should she rail at him… or should she try to kiss him again? Lynne did her best to force emotion from her thoughts and to keep going.
She had other things to worry about. They weren’t more than three days out from Ft. Kearny when the miners were stirred up and in a tizzy.
“I swear I had that deed at the poker game, but it was gone the next day,” an old, grizzled miner by the name of Barney complained as he walked near where Cade and Lynne rode.
“Ya done lost that deed on a pair of eights, ya old coot,” another miner, Kyle, ragged on him. He snickered to the man walking with him.
“I lost the nugget, I’ll admit to that,” Barney said, “but I kept the deed in my pocket.”
“Barney, you was so drunk by the end of things last night, you wouldn’t’a known which end of a horse was which. Ain’t that right, Ben?” Kyle called across Cade and Lynne to young Ben, driving the wagon.
Ben flicked the whip across the back of the oxen and ignored them with a scowl. Lynne pursed her lips and shook her head. She’d warned him once about spending time with the miners at his age. She’d have to do it again.
“That deed’s got to be somewhere,” Barney went on. He stopped to scratch his head and look around, as if it would pop out of the prairie grass. Thankfully, the other miners stopped with him and the wagon train moved on.
Lynne let out a breath of relief when the men were far behind. “Thank heavens they fell back,” she said and patted Clover’s neck. She’d had her trusty mount checked by a farrier in Ft. Kearny and was glad to be riding instead of walking.
“I don’t like it,” Cade grumbled.
Lynne didn’t know whether to sigh or grin. “Seems to me you don’t like much of anything these days.” She leaned low over Clover’s neck and whispered, “Cade has been out in the sun too long.”
He kept his eyes forward, but for a flicker of a second Lynne was certain his lips twitched into a smile. He was as serious as January a moment later.
“What do I have to do to convince you that the dangers you’re facing are real?” he asked.
The uncomfortable tremor that Lynne had come to hate so much caught in her chest. She fought it by sitting up straight and smoothing her skirt over the knee hooked across the pommel of her saddle.
“I’m not afraid to face danger,” she said, reminding herself that she was brave.
He let out a frustrated breath and adjusted his hat lower over his eyes.
“No, really,” she insisted with a shrug. “I’ll admit it’s there, but I can handle it.” It was the only answer she could give that wouldn’t end with her hating herself for being weak.
At last, he twisted in his saddle to look at her. The fierceness of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, settling in her core. That was all the danger she could ever have wanted and more. His eyes were as hard and bright as sapphires in spite of the tired lines that still surrounded them. That tiredness softened her desire into tenderness.
“Cade, are you still having trouble sleeping?” she asked before he could scold her.
Her question must have taken him by surprise. He faced forward again, rolling his shoulders.
By his guilty tone, she’d guessed right.
“Is it the noise of the camp?” she asked. “Has the moon been too bright lately? I’ll let you sleep in the wagon for a while and I’ll take my turn sleeping out under the stars. How about that?”
“I am not letting you sleep in the open,” he growled.
“Well, it wouldn’t be right for you sleep in the wagon with me,” she said. “That would be too improper even for the flimsy morals of the trail.”
“I’m not asking to sleep with you,” he said, then turned pink.
Lynne smiled. Knowing she could bring a blush to Cade’s face was by far the sweetest part of the arduous journey so far.
“Do you need more blankets then? Is the ground too hard for you?” she asked on.
“Will you give it a rest?” he said.
“Not until you give it a rest. And by ‘it’ I mean you. Everyone needs sleep.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “I sleep enough. I’ve got my job to do and I’m doing it.”
Lynne blinked, her heart beating harder against her ribs. “You haven’t been sleeping because you’re concerned about protecting me?”
He glanced sideways at her, eyes narrowed. “Yeah, that’s it.” Truth rang through his sarcasm.
“There has to be a way for you to get more sleep and still watch over me,” she said. Her heart didn’t slow its pounding for a moment as her mind searched for ways to ease Cade’s load. “After all, you bought all those guns in Ft. Kearny.”
“I bought two revolvers at the supply depot,” he said. “That hardly qualifies as ‘all those guns.’”
“But you’ve got another revolver and a rifle. Four firearms is more than enough to make you feel safe, isn’t it?”
“No,” he answered without pause.
She wouldn’t leave it there. “Even Ben feels safe with all those guns lying around. Don’t you, Ben?”
She twisted to look over her shoulder at Ben. He was watching the oxen with deep concentration, but perked up when she spoke to him, saying, “What?”
