Flint Hills Bride

by Cassandra Austin

  She couldn’t allow herself to think about what she was doing. She grabbed up the money and started to close the box. On impulse, she dropped a few bills back inside, then slipped the box back into the drawer. She folded the bills and stuffed them deep into her bag, blew out the light and left the study.

  At the back door, she found her cloak and scarf and finally her gloves. She had two pairs of stockings and a pair of bloomers on under her heavy riding skirt. She even wore two blouses under the matching jacket. She had done it for warmth, but had also been aware that it would leave her with more clothes than the meager choices she could fit in one carpetbag. She felt the chill air only against her face as she went outside.

  She found the barn more from memory than from sight, though there was the slightest gray cast to the sky. She felt across the rough wood for the handle and slid the door open enough to slip through. She closed it behind her and stood still, listening to the snuffle of the horses in an otherwise silent, black world.

  There was no way she could saddle a horse in pitch-darkness. She lit another of her matches and found a lantern hanging on the wall. She prayed no restless sleeper would look out and see light streaming from the barn’s few small windows.

  She suddenly felt a need to hurry. She got her saddle from the tack room, and picked the gelding she had ridden before. Had it really been only a few days? No. It was another lifetime. A life she had shared with Jake before Anson had come back for her.

  She shed the cloak before she saddled the horse. The layers of clothes might keep her warm, but they also made movement more difficult. After several long minutes, she was ready to tie her bag to the saddle strings. She led the horse to the door but blew out the light just before she slid it open. At the last moment she decided to take the lantern with her and looped the handle carefully over the saddle horn.

  The cloak made mounting difficult, and she led the horse to the edge of the ramp that led to the upper level and used it to help her swing into the saddle. She took one last look at the house, barely visible as a darker shape against a dark sky, and turned toward the path where she would meet Anson and her future.

  On the far side of the barn, a loud whisper made her start. “Emily, is that you?”

  For a moment she thought she had been caught, then she recognized Anson’s voice. “Yes,” she whispered back.

  She heard him move closer. He was on foot, leading his horse. “I came up to the barn just before dark. I thought you might wait until moonrise.”

  “I was afraid of being seen,” she answered.

  “We’ll have to wait here anyway. We’ll kill ourselves on that trail in the dark.”

  Emily dismounted, thinking of the lantern, and found herself in Anson’s arms. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” he whispered near her ear. “Did you get the money?”

  “Some,” she said. “I brought a lantern, too.”

  “Good girl,” he murmured, releasing her. “Light it. We’ll walk the horses until the moon comes up.”

  They made slow progress, leading their horses while Anson held the lantern high to light the trail. Emily let out a shaky breath when the path turned. There was no longer any danger that someone would see the light bobbing on the hillside.

  “You all right?” Anson asked. The hand with the reins went around her shoulder, forcing his horse into hers.

  Emily turned to quiet the mounts. “Yes, I’m fine. I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath until we got away.”

  “We have gotten away, haven’t we?” His smile was more playful than reassuring. “We’ll have such a grand time in Denver, child.”

  “Will you marry me in Denver, Anson?”

  “Marry you!” She heard the surprise in his voice. She was surprised, too. She kept her eyes on the rough path.

  “Baby, I guess I could marry you, if that’s what you want. I just haven’t thought much about it.”

  They were quiet for the space of several minutes before he asked, “Is that what you want?”

  “I think that’s what I need, Anson.”

  “Well, I mean for you to have everything you need, little girl. I’d be proud to marry you in Denver.”

  There was an exaggerated cheerfulness to his tone. He was willing, but not eager, to marry her. But maybe that didn’t matter. Once they were married and her baby had a name, they would build a life together.

  “Thank you, Anson,” she murmured.

  They walked on to where the trail began to disappear in the prairie. Emily led the way toward the main road, hoping she was not mistaking distant landmarks in the dark. They had started down a steep slope when the light flickered and went out.

  Anson cursed and shook the lantern.

  “Do you need another match?” Emily asked, reaching into her pocket.

  “What good would that do? The damned thing’s empty.”

  Emily cringed when she heard the crash and tinkle of glass a few feet away.

  “Why didn’t you fill it before we left?”

  The anger in his voice made her want to step away. They seemed to be suspended in total darkness on the slope, however, and she was afraid to move. “I’m sorry,” she said, ashamed of the catch in her voice. “I didn’t think of it”

  “No, of course you wouldn’t” His voice dripped sarcasm. “You were too busy planning to get married. Everything else is my problem. You never think.”

  Emily felt tears come to her eyes and was glad for the darkness that hid them. “That’s not fair, Anson,” she managed.

  He muttered a few choice curses. “Well, we’re stuck here until the moon comes up. We might as well try to rest”

  She heard a pebble slip under his foot as he sat on the ground. She crouched down gingerly, feeling the ground for rocks and sharp, dead grass. After a moment, his hands found her and he pulled her down beside him, wrapping her in his arms.

  “I didn’t mean to yell at you, little girl,” he murmured in her ear. “The moon’ll be up soon, and we’ll be on our way. Besides, it’s time we took a little rest.” His lips toyed with her earlobe, making her laugh. “Forgive me, baby?”

  “Of course.”

  She nestled against him, closing her eyes. Sleep was probably out of the question with both horses breathing down their necks, but he was right, she was ready for a rest.

  However, rest wasn’t exactly what Anson had in mind. His lips moved from her ear to her neck, and he unfastened her cloak.

  She grabbed his hand. “Anson, we’ll freeze!”

  He chuckled. “I’ll leave the cloak alone.” He pulled the heavy fabric closed but left it to her to rebutton it. While her fingers were busy, he reached for the hem of her skirt, sliding his hand under it.

  “Anson, I’m serious,” she squealed, drawing her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs. “It’s too cold.”

  “We won’t get undressed,” he coaxed.

  “You won’t get undressed. I’ll still freeze.”

  “I’ll keep you warm.” His voice was low and seductive. She wanted to slap him.

  “Anson, please. I don’t want our first time back together to be on the hard ground with horses about to step on us.”

  She heard the crackle of dry grass and he gave a startled yelp. “Anson?”

  “I see what you mean,” he said, his voice some distance away. “Your damned horse just knocked me over. Did you train him to do that?”

  Emily couldn’t quite swallow a giggle.

  “Maybe it was you who pushed me over. Hard to tell in the dark.” He crawled back toward her and took her into his arms. “More I think about it, I suspect it was you. I could have rolled all the way down this hill.”

  “I wouldn’t have done that,” she said, knowing her urge to giggle was nervousness. Had he given up on his idea of taking her here and now? She was afraid to relax against him no matter how tired she felt.

  “You didn’t think of it, is what you mean. You never think, little girl.”

 
He pulled her close, snuggling her against him. She tried to pretend that his words didn’t sting.

  Chapter Five

  It was well past midnight when Jake got back to town. His horse hadn’t liked being hitched to the buggy and had baulked and misbehaved the entire way. He had finally been forced to tie the lame horse to the back of the buggy and lead his own.

  They had made slow progress, especially before moonrise. The buggy was equipped with lanterns, but only one held any kerosene. The light was barely enough to keep them on the road.

  Once in town, he stopped the buggy at a little boardinghouse that wouldn’t overtax the couple’s obviously short funds. “Mrs. Barstow’s a light sleeper,” he told them. “The bell on the door will bring her out, and she’ll find you a place to sleep if she has to give up her own bed.”

  “You’ve been most kind, Sheriff,” Mildred said as her husband helped her from the buggy.

  “Deputy,” he corrected for at least the fourth time.

  “What do we owe you?” Merle asked hesitantly.

  Jake shook his head. “Just part of the job.”

  “We’re much obliged,” Mildred said.

  “Go on inside,” Jake said. “I’ll leave the wagon and your horse at the livery.”

  “I’ll be along in a minute to tend to his leg,” Merle said as Jake coaxed his horse forward again.

  Jake had Merle’s horse fed, watered and rubbed down before Merle arrived. The horse had thrown a shoe but was otherwise uninjured. He suggested that Merle look the hoof over carefully in daylight and bade the man good-night.

  With his saddle hoisted onto his shoulder, he led his fidgeting horse home. Once the gelding was bedded down, he walked into his little cabin. He was cold, tired, hungry and frustrated. He was no closer to checking on Emily than he had been at dusk. Farther, in fact, because neither he nor his horse would be in any shape to leave as early as he had planned.

  He lit a fire in the little stove and sat near it, eating from a can of beans. His feet hurt from walking, but he felt too tired to pull off the boots. The only good part, he thought, as he struggled out of the chair and headed for his bed, was that he was too tired for any worries to keep him awake.

  The sun was streaming through his window when he awoke. He threw himself out of bed, then stopped with a groan to flex stiff muscles. Hurrying to the kitchen, he took a look out his east window and was relieved to see the sun had barely pushed its way over the horizon. He had been afraid he had slept until noon. Not wanting to take time to fix himself breakfast, he threw what little food there was into his saddlebags and hurried out to saddle the horse. He could eat as he rode.

  Minutes later he was riding into Strong. His practiced eyes scanned the small groups of people waiting at the train depot. A dark head with unruly curls escaping from its pins made him pull the reins so quickly the gelding wheeled in protest.

  Her back was to him, the hood of a familiar cloak pushed off her head. A tall blond stranger was beside her. Jake watched her nod, watched her move into his waiting arms. She rested her head against his shoulder as if she were exhausted, or in love.

  Jake’s blood pounded in his ears until he would have doubted his ability to hear another sound, but a shrill whistle drew his attention. The train was pulling into the station. In moments it would leave again…with Emily aboard!

  He dismounted, eager to arrest Berkeley, fearful of what Emily’s reaction would be. It would be better to follow, to wait and watch.

  He caught a passing boy by the sleeve. The boy turned toward him, startled. “Anthony, I’m glad it’s you.” He was a good boy, one Jake could trust.

  “Mr. Rawlins.” Anthony looked confused. “Is something wrong?”

  “I need you to do me a favor.” He straightened, moving to untie his saddlebags as he spoke. “Take my horse to Sheriff Chaffee. Tell him…tell him I’m following a suspect on the train. He’ll know what to do.”

  Anthony already had the reins. “Anything else, sir?”

  Jake searched his pockets for a coin, keeping one eye on the train, and the couple just now boarding. “No. Here.” He handed him a nickel. “Thanks.” The last was said as he ran for the train.

  He tipped his hat to shield his face as he passed the car that held Emily and Berkeley. He was swinging onto the steps of the car behind them, his saddlebags clutched in one hand, when the train lurched forward. He stumbled, but his grip on the railing held and he easily righted himself and entered the car.

  He took a seat, deciding to wait until the train was up to its normal speed before crossing to the next car. As he waited for the conductor to come sell him a ticket, he realized the train was traveling east, toward Topeka. Had Berkeley decided to go back? Had Emily talked him into giving himself up?

  His own disappointment at the thought disturbed him. He didn’t want Berkeley to do anything noble, anything that might make him acceptable for Emily. He wanted the man to give him an excuse to knock his teeth out.

  He was glaring at the closed door at the end of the car when a tap on his shoulder made him jump. One hand snaked toward the pistol at his hip as he turned toward his attacker.

  “Ticket?” The conductor’s face was bland, evidently used to jumpy passengers.

  “I need to buy a ticket,” he said, opening his coat and reaching for the small amount of cash he carried.

  “Where to?”

  Good question. How far were the pair going? Jake allowed the conductor a glimpse of the badge pinned to his shirtfront. “I’m following someone in the next car,” he said softly.

  “Don’t matter. Still got to pay.”

  Jake bit back an irritated response. “I know that. I just don’t know how far he’s going.”

  The conductor nodded his understanding. “The next hub is Emporia. He might change trains there.”

  “Fine,” Jake muttered, feeling a sudden need to be closer to the pair. They could get off sooner, though why, he didn’t know. “Give me a ticket to Emporia.”

  After the transaction was made, Jake, saddlebags slung over his shoulder, jumped from one platform to the other and cautiously entered the next car. He kept his hat low over his eyes, hoping to see Emily before she saw him.

  He slid quickly into the empty seat next to the door where he could study the other passengers without his six-foot-two-inch frame being quite so conspicuous. He spotted them immediately. They were sitting halfway down the car, their backs to him.

  If he had harbored any doubts that he might have mistaken the dark curls, they dissolved quickly. She was sitting sideways in the chair, her face in profile, as she talked to her companion. Jake could imagine one foot tucked up under her. He had nearly injured himself trying to copy that position as a boy.

  She smiled, and Jake’s love for her hit him like a blow. How was he going to sit and watch her with Berkeley? How would he resist the temptation to flatten the boy’s nose? And when he made his move, however professional he might make it, how was he going to live with the hatred he knew he would see in Emily’s beautiful face?

  Perhaps all he could do at the moment was follow them, pray that Berkeley would make a mistake, give him a chance to be Emily’s rescuer.

  Emily laughed. The sound didn’t carry above the noise of the train and its passengers, but he saw it. She leaned forward for a second, resting her forehead against Berkeley’s shoulder. His hand came up and caressed the curls at the nape of her neck.

  Jake groaned aloud. Hell couldn’t have devised a more excruciating torture.

  “You’re exhausted, baby,” Anson whispered in her ear.

  “I know,” she mumbled, rubbing her face against his coat. “That’s why everything’s funny.”

  “Here, get comfortable. You can sleep against my shoulder.”

  “I think I could sleep against the vibrating window over there.” She pulled her leg out from under her and shifted to a better position, never lifting her head from his shoulder.

  “I think you could sleep on h
orseback.”

  She giggled. “I almost did, didn’t I?”

  “I was afraid the man at the livery would think I was selling you along with the horses.”

  Emily sat up abruptly. “You didn’t sell Christian’s horse, too, did you? You were only—”

  “No, no. Just my own.” He pulled her back toward him. “Your brother’s horse will be waiting for him when he comes into town like you said. How much did you get before you left?”

  “What?”

  “Money. From your brother. You said you got some.”

  “Yes, a little.” She felt an unease she was too tired to analyze.

  “Better let me carry it,” he whispered.

  “What?” She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

  “You better let me carry the money. It’ll be safer.”

  Emily studied the handsome face, too tired to think. He reached toward her carpetbag that sat at her feet, but she grabbed it first. “All right,” she said.

  She felt inside, finding the wad of bills with her fingers. She carefully separated a few of the bills and refolded them as she pulled them out. “This is all there was,” she said, praying he wouldn’t know she lied. She didn’t even know why she lied.

  “Is that all?” he hissed. “Damn.”

  Emily watched him scowl as he counted the money, watched him stuff the bills inside his shirt, watched his face change from angry to cheerful again when he looked at her. “You did your best, baby,” he said. “I shouldn’t have bothered with it yet. You need to rest.”

  She settled back against the warm shoulder. Sleep. She needed to sleep, or she would be sick. Or maybe that was fear she felt in the pit of her stomach. Anson had sold Christian’s horse, she would bet on it, and he had made a bigger fuss about Christian’s money than she had expected.

  Of course, the train tickets weren’t free. They would need food and shelter in Denver until he got a job. He was only being practical.

  What would he say when he discovered she had held out on him? If she waited until they were desperate for money, would he be grateful enough to forget that she had lied? Could she claim the bills had become separated accidentally, and she hadn’t meant to keep them from him? Only if she pretended to find them the next time she opened her bag. For some reason, she didn’t want to give up all the money.