Jake considered a moment. He couldn’t bring himself to say she was in love with the fugitive; he would choke on the words. If the sheriff’s grapevine was as efficient as he claimed, he was going to know in short order that she was no longer traveling with him. “It’s personal, sir,” he finally said.
This sent the sheriff into gales of laughter that followed Jake out the door.
The snow had come down steadily since he left the restaurant. The wind was up now, blowing snow off the roofs and making it hard to tell if any new snow was still falling. The sun was weak, filtered as it was through the heavy clouds.
Jake’s heart was heavy, too, as he trudged toward the livery. At the door, he glanced across the street to the upstairs windows of the Hays House. He resisted the pull and entered the barn. He didn’t know which window was hers anyway, he told himself.
As he saddled the white mare, he noticed Emily’s carpetbag waiting beside her saddle. He was tempted to have it sent across the street. He hated to think of her venturing out in the cold to get her bag. But if somebody brought it to her now, wouldn’t that alert her to his absence that much sooner?
His horse was ready to go and still he hesitated. It had turned so cold. He would compromise. He left the mare standing and grabbed the bag. Across the street he deposited it near the desk. “Give this to Miss Prescott when she comes down,” he said, then hurried back across the street.
He headed out of town turning almost due south toward a small farmstead roughly halfway between Garvey’s and town. It was the nearest spot on the map and as good a place to start as any. He tried to frame what he would ask the farmer, plan where he would go from there, but his mind lingered instead on Emily.
How long would she wait before she went looking for him and discovered he had abandoned her? Would she be frightened? Angry was more likely.
Yet she was young and alone in a strange place. She was bound to feel betrayed. He pictured her big brown eyes looking lost and vulnerable and cursed himself.
She was resourceful. She had managed to buy a good horse in order to go along in the first place. She wouldn’t have any trouble getting home—or away to meet Berkeley.
He tried to put that last thought out of his mind. In its own way it was more upsetting than the lost little girl he had pictured earlier.
No, he told himself. She could take care of herself. Didn’t she always do as she pleased anyway? She had run away with her lover, jumped off the train and forced him to take her with him. She wouldn’t have any trouble.
Suddenly Jake realized he shared the trail with a northbound traveler. He should have seen him some distance away but had been too lost in thought. As they neared each other he tipped his hat to the man who responded in kind.
He rode on, trying to put Emily out of his mind. He was a lawman on the trail of a fugitive. Why was that so easy to forget? Perhaps he should go back to training horses. Maybe then he could keep his mind on what he was doing. He laughed out loud. He seemed to recall Christian’s mind wandering a great deal the first summer Lynnette was on the ranch. It seemed it wasn’t the job at all, but the woman that was to blame. Or the man’s feelings for her.
The little farmhouse came into view, nestled near a stand of trees along a creek. The smoke rising from the rock chimney spoke of a warm, inviting fire. But he had a lot of ground to cover. He would ask and be on his way.
Emily awoke feeling more rested than she had in days. She wasn’t sure how long she had slept, more than an hour, she was sure, perhaps two. She stretched and padded to the window in her stocking feet. The snow that had looked so lovely drifting down had turned to a dirty mess in the street. She touched the glass and remembered watching Jake walk away, the light snow dusting his dark coat and hat.
“Hurry back,” she whispered, repeating the wish she had murmured before.
Maybe he was back. Maybe he had taken another room and was even now waiting for her to wake up. There could be a note on her door or a message waiting downstairs at the desk.
Without bothering to treat the sore on her heel, she sat on the bed and slipped into her shoes. In a moment she was running downstairs. She was a little surprised to find herself so elated but didn’t stop to wonder about it.
“Is there a message for Miss Prescott from Jake Rawlins?” she asked the clerk, giving him a sunny smile.
“Oh, yes, ma’am.” He reached beneath the desk and came up with her carpetbag. “He said to give you this when you came down.”
“Ah, my bag. Did Mr. Rawlins take another room?”
“No, ma’am. I saw him ride out of town.”
Emily froze. She hadn’t heard him right. “He didn’t leave town.”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. That white mare he rides is pretty distinctive. I saw him walk her right down the street. Will you be staying the night?”
“No.” She grabbed up the bag. “I’ll be leaving, too.”
She stomped up the stairs and back into the room. “How could he do this!” she raved, searching through her bag for more clothes to put on. She was going after him.
She didn’t know where he was headed. She didn’t know how to find out except to ask people which way he had gone. That hadn’t worked too well for Jake after Anson left the Garveys. It probably wouldn’t work for her. She could end up lost. Besides it would take too much time.
She buttoned the blouse hastily, tucking it into the waist of her riding skirt. She knew she should put on a second pair of stockings but she hated to take the time. God knows how much of a head start Jake had.
“Darn him,” she muttered, flinging the cloak over her shoulders and snatching up the bag. “Just when I was starting to…”
She froze, bringing her fingers to her lips. She had been about to say—no, she wouldn’t even complete the thought. She wasn’t in love with Jake.
She groaned, forcing herself to leave the room and move down the stairs. If she was in love with Jake, this latest trick ought to end it! “Just when I was starting to trust him,” she said deliberately.
On her way to the door a plan took shape. Maybe more of an impulse than a plan, but she acted on it. She turned back to the clerk. “Where can I find a lawman?”
The clerk blinked at her. “Sheriffs office…” he pointed.
“Thank you very much.” She smiled sweetly, left the hotel and slammed the door behind her.
“He’s supposed to be my friend,” she raved under her breath as she marched down the boardwalk. “He acts so sweet. So considerate.” She heard the words on her own lips and thought of them as curses.
She nearly walked past the sheriff’s office. She saw the sign out of the corner of her eye and backtracked a step. She took a deep breath, hastily considering just what she was going to tell the sheriff. It came to her in an instant. Turning her anger to sorrow, she walked into the room.
“You have to help me,” she wailed. “My husband—” She gulped a mouthful of air and swallowed it. “My husband’s abandoned me!” Her voice croaked quite convincingly.
A huge man stood and came toward her. His scowl made her wonder for an instant about the wisdom of this particular course of action. But she was already committed. She sniffed noisily.
“Mr. Rawlins is your husband? He checked you into the hotel as Miss Prescott.”
She had no ready explanation. “Ohh!” she wailed, doing her best to dissolve into tears. They had come so easily the past several days, where were they now?
“There, there, miss…er…ma’am.” He patted her back awkwardly. “He’s looking for his fugitive. He said he’d be coming back this way. I’m sure he wanted you to wait for him.”
Wait here for him! Fat chance! “No, he was lying. He’s…he’s…not after a fugitive.” Oh Lord, what kind of a mess was she getting herself into. Yet she needed to find Jake.
“Now, ma’am, he asked everyone in town about this Berkeley fella. He’s determined to find him. Said it was personal. You’d best just stay here and let him do his job.”
“Ohh,” she wailed again, buying herself time to think. Personal, huh? “Berkeley’s not a fugitive,” she said between huge sniff’s. Nothing seemed to bring those tears! “He’s just a friend. Jake is so…jealous.” Dropping her bag and burying her head in her hands, she sobbed, trying to irritate her eyes in the process.
“Not a fugitive?” The man’s voice sounded furious.
She shook her head without lifting it.
“We’ll find him,” the sheriff announced, turning to grab his coat.
“No, wait! I have to go with you.”
“Now, ma’am, it’s cold out there. I’ll round up some boys, and we’ll bring him back to you.”
She lowered her head and sobbed into her hands. “I have to come with you!”
“There, there,” he said, patting her shoulder again. He turned and opened the door, and she grabbed up her bag and followed him out.
He began yelling orders to passersby. In a matter of minutes a crowd had gathered. “You all seen the stranger came in about noon. Most of you talked to him. It turns out he’s a scoundrel set on deserting this young lady.”
Emily took that as a cue to sob daintily.
“We’re goin’ after him. Anybody seen him ride out, step up here and report.”
Emily stood back watching the proceedings. The sheriff, her ally now, incited the indignation of nearly every man in the crowd. She began to worry for Jake’s safety. Well, he shouldn’t have abandoned her, she decided.
“This man could be dangerous,” the sheriff was saying. “Any of you that looked into his cold blue eyes—”
“Green,” she interrupted before she could stop herself. She suddenly had everyone’s attention. “They’re green,” she repeated nervously. “And not especially cold.”
“There, there,” repeated the sheriff, patting her shoulder.
The crowd murmured its compassion.
At the sheriff’s word they scattered to ready their horses. She found, as they gathered again, that the man at the livery had saddled her gelding for her. She gave him a tremulous smile before he helped her aboard and tied her bag on behind.
The sheriff wasted no more time. Emily found herself nearly galloping out of town between the sheriff and a rancher who had evidently met Jake along the road. She almost expected to overtake him immediately. Surely Jake wasn’t pushing his horse this fast.
After several minutes of breathless riding, they stopped at a farmhouse. The sheriff seemed to have a good idea where Jake would go. He dismounted, had a few words with the farmer, who pointed the way, and swung his considerable bulk into the saddle again. The posse, as Emily was now thinking of the group, took off in a new direction.
After a few more minutes, they spied a lone rider ahead of them. The horse was white. The sheriff gave a triumphant shout and spurred his mount to greater speed. Emily and the rest did likewise.
The rider pulled up at the sound. He looked around, considering perhaps the chances of running or heading for cover. But there was no cover. He dismounted, thrusting his coat behind him to expose the handle of a gun in his belt.
“Jake!” Emily screamed, realizing it was more of a warning than anything else.
“We got him,” the sheriff assured her.
They came up to Jake and made a rough circle around him. His eyes flicked to Emily then concentrated on the sheriff. She wished he would look at her again. He was missing her smirk. She raised a hand to her mouth to hide it from the posse.
“Young man,” the sheriff began sternly. “We take our marriage vows seriously around here.”
That brought his eyes back to Emily. She tried to look the part of the abandoned wife by giving him a beseeching smile. “Why did you leave me, darling?” she choked. She wanted to throw in a couple of sniffs but was afraid she would giggle.
Jake didn’t answer. He turned his attention back to the sheriff, evidently uncertain what the big man would decide to do. It occurred to Emily that he might decide to exact some punishment. She jumped off her horse and ran to Jake, throwing herself into his arms. “Darling,” she crooned, “you won’t leave me again, will you?”
“Don’t suppose it’d do much good,” he muttered.
“’Pears to me,” the sheriff said, “a gal’d be better off a widow than tied to a man what runs off and leaves her.”
Jake’s body didn’t stiffen but Emily’s did. Lord, she had never dreamed the sheriff would react so strongly. She turned her face into Jake’s chest and sobbed noisily.
“You give up this notion of tracking down your wife’s friend,” the sheriff said. “You be good to the little woman, and let the past go. I got your promise?”
Jake was silent. Emily poked him in the ribs. How foolish was he?
“Oh, yes, sir, you have my promise. I should never have let the little woman out of my sight in the first place.”
Emily leaned back to scowl at him, but his eyes were on the sheriff.
“That’s good, boy. You see you remember that.” He waved his arm and turned, walking his horse back the way he had come. The rest of the posse regrouped behind him, each man giving Jake a cold glare as he turned away.
Jake sighed, drawing Emily gently away from him. He gazed down into her eyes, and she waited to read his reaction. Was he furious with her? She really hadn’t stopped to consider how he would feel.
“I had to find you, Jake,” she blurted. When she realized how close she had come to telling him why, she added, “I need you to help me find Anson.”
She wanted him to pull her back into his arms; it had felt so right. But it had only been part of the act And she couldn’t have him. He would have no feeling for her but contempt once he knew about the baby.
A voice in her head suggested she not tell him, not ever, but she brushed it aside. She was capable of considerable dishonesty, but she wouldn’t seduce Jake and try to pass the child off as his. She had to find another solution to her predicament. Anson, her best hope, seemed more like an additional problem than a solution.
Jake must have read the turmoil in her eyes because he stepped forward, cupping her cheek with a gloved hand. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She felt the tears come to her eyes. Sure, now she could cry. “I need you to help me find Anson,” she repeated, though the truth was she simply needed him.
He gently folded her into his arms, and she wondered if he had read more than she suspected in her face. She melted into the embrace, for a moment feeling warm and safe.
Maybe not so safe. A fire leaped to life in the pit of her stomach and spread heat through her limbs. She tried to ignore it. She knew what it was. Desire. And it was more a trick than anything else.
She started to pull away but only got far enough to find her face scant inches from his. His breath was coming in short shallow puffs. Not a good sign. Never a good sign.
But she couldn’t step away from him. It was as if his gentle hands on her shoulder blades held her in an iron grip. His eyes were half closed, his lips slightly parted. She found herself drawing nearer. Or he was. She couldn’t tell. At any rate, his lips were closing in on hers.
The heat inside her intensified, making her tremble. Against all reason, she wanted to taste those lips. She no sooner thought it than it happened. Warm firm lips embraced hers, and her body molded against his hard torso. No reasonable thought seemed possible beyond the knowledge that the man she loved held her in his arms.
He raised his head a fraction, and she sighed, parting her lips. “I love you” was on the tip of her tongue.
She jumped away, clamping a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t said it, surely! She stared at his startled expression. Would he look more surprised if she had confessed her love? She waited in dread for him to speak.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if he were fighting for control. “I’m sorry,” he said finally.
Sorry? She must not have said the words aloud. What was he sorry about? Was he taking the blame for the kiss? S
he should let him. She should play the innocent. He had taken advantage of her.
She lowered her hand. “It was my fault,” she heard herself say. Well, she had thrown herself into his arms for the sheriff’s benefit. But the kiss had just…happened.
He grinned at her, not at all the reaction she expected. “Women have taken the blame for men’s lust for centuries. Who am I to argue?”
Lust? She had fallen in love, and all he felt was lust! She shouldn’t be surprised. Men were all alike. And she had thought Jake was special. She whirled away and caught up the reins to the patient gelding.
Jake was behind her, his hands on her waist before she got her foot in the stirrup. He was going to apologize for the cruel remark. He was going to kiss her again. She was about to turn toward him when he tossed her into the saddle.
“Up you go, little woman,” he said.
Oh, it was going to be easy to get over Jake. She wanted to kick him, but he caught her foot and guided it into the stirrup.
He rested a hand on her knee and looked up at her. “Emily,” he said softly, “I left you in town because I wanted you safe. But I didn’t want you to be afraid. My conscience has tortured me ever since. I’m glad you found me.”
He turned and mounted the mare, eased along beside her and started them down the trail. Emily stole glances at his profile. Had he really forgiven her for the scene with the posse? Was one “little woman” all she was going to hear about it?
He had always been forgiving. Lord knows she had given him plenty of practice over the years. Maybe it was just habit. Maybe he cared so little about her it was easy.
Maybe he was just the sweetest man she had ever met.
Lord, how was she going to fall out of love with Jake Rawlins?
Chapter Eleven
No one was home at the next farmhouse on the map. Jake considered waiting a bit but after watering the horses, he decided to follow the creek to the next one. Emily seemed to be holding up better than she had the day before. The good rest after dinner had evidently made the difference. Or the excitement of rounding up a posse and chasing him down had.
Flint Hills Bride Page 15
