Beautiful Bandit (Lone Star Legends) (7 page)

Gus muttered a curse. “You don’t mean to say you’ve got cash on your perso—”

“No, no,” Josh assured. “Banknote.”

Stretch, red-faced from struggling to get out of his wet boots, grunted. “Good thing, too, ’cause we’ve been tailin’ Frank Michaels and his gang of murderin’ thieves. Last we heard, they were hidin’ out somewhere close by.”

Josh heard Dinah’s tiny gasp, but before he could figure out what had provoked it, Shorty said, “We been doggin’ ’em for nigh onto a week, now. Almost had ’em, too, when this confounded storm muddied up their tracks.” A quick look at Dinah stopped him as effectively as a hand clamped over his mouth. Narrowing one eye, he said, “Hey, don’t I know you from someplace?”

A nervous giggle exploded from her mouth. “It’s the funniest thing,” she said, “but people tell me that all the time.” Looking at Josh, she added, “Don’t they, darlin’?”

Josh hoped his forced smile didn’t look too fake. “Guess you just have one of those faces, darlin’.”

The Ranger stared hard at her for another second or two and then shook his head. “Nah, ain’t that. I’d bet my next paycheck that I know you from someplace.” He gave a shrug. “Don’t worry none. It’ll come to me before long.”

He stepped closer to his comrades, who were lighting cigarettes and talking. On the heels of their raucous laughter, the threesome picked up where they’d left off, griping about how the Frank Michaels Gang had left half a dozen bank heists, train robberies, and dead bodies in their wake between here and San Antonio.

“We’ll get ’em,” Stretch snarled, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. “They got a female with ’em now. Don’t matter none that she’s an outlaw; she’ll slow ’em down, sure as I’m standin’ here, simply ’cause she’s a woman.”

Josh glanced at Dinah, whose rosy cheeks had paled to a chalky gray. He reached her just in time to catch her as she fainted.

8

When Kate opened her eyes and looked into Josh’s worried face, her first impulse was to comfort him. He’d been so kind, so sweet, so gentle. And so generous….

Then, reality set in, and she remembered where they were, and why. But she couldn’t figure out what was causing the loud hammering in her ears—the ferocity of the storm or her hard-beating heart.

Blinding flashes of lightning sparked through cracks in the cabin walls, each one waking a white-hot memory: Frank’s threat to slit her throat if she ran off; the ghastly image of Claribel and the men he’d shot; her own name emblazoned on the wanted poster. She also formed a clear, mental picture of herself swinging at the end of a rope.

The men’s voices sounded hollow and distant, reminding her of hot, summer days from childhood, when she and her playmates would take turns diving into the millpond behind her grandmother’s house, their smiling faces easily identifiable through the water’s translucence, their shouts nearly as muted and murky as the pond’s spongy floor.

Kate sipped from the canteen Josh pressed to her lips, wondering how long she’d been out. Not long enough, she prayed, for the Rangers to study her face, because surely the one who’d thought he recognized her would have put two and two together.

“Well, sir,” Stretch said, “if I had me a cigar, I’d light it up in your honor.” He slapped Josh’s shoulder. “My wife swooned, too, purty near ever’ time she was expectin’. Don’t rightly know why carryin’ a young’un makes women keel over thataway, but….” He chuckled and gave Josh’s back a friendly slap. “So tell us, boy, when’s the baby due?”

Josh looked every bit as confused as Kate felt. His gaze fused to hers, as if he hoped she’d send him a suitable response by way of the invisible thread that locked their eyes together. If the lawmen believed she and Josh were married—and why else would a self-respecting man and woman be out here in the middle of nowhere together?—maybe they hadn’t figured out who she was.

At least, not yet.

“Thank you,” Kate said, trying to change the subject. “But I’m fine. Really.” She sat up, then tried to get onto her feet. “I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never fainted, not once in my entire life!”

And it was true. That’s why, when the unfamiliar, woozy sensation had tickled the edges of her consciousness, she hadn’t recognized it for what it was. And why, when the room had started spinning and everything had turned a muddy yellow, she hadn’t tried doing anything to avert the episode.

“Well, y’ain’t never been pregnant before, that’s why,” Shorty pointed out.

She couldn’t afford to dally. The quicker she set about the business of stoking the fire, making coffee, and rustling up something for the men to eat, the better. Performing mundane chores would give her a good excuse to keep her back to the Rangers and give them less of an opportunity to match her face to the crude drawing on the wanted poster.

The instant she stood up, a second wave of dizziness overwhelmed her and nearly put her right back on the floor.

She ended up in Josh’s arms again, instead.

“You scared me half out of my wits,” he said, tucking several stray wisps of hair behind her ears before setting her down gently but keeping his arms around her.

The heat of a blush warmed her cheeks. Did she feel hot and clammy because so many men had crowded into the small, damp space? Because the woodstove was radiating heat? It certainly couldn’t be because Josh held her so tenderly—could it?

She pressed both palms to his chest and stood at arm’s length from him. Frank had held her this way, and look where that had gotten her!

Then, she remembered what Josh had said just moments before the first Ranger had burst through the door: “Follow my lead.” Later, when they were alone, she’d confess how much she admired his acting skills. If his performance had nearly convinced her of his genuine concern for her, surely the Rangers had fallen for his act, too.

Well, two could play that game. “The next time you tell me not to skip a meal,” she said, touching a fingertip to the end of Josh’s nose, “I promise to listen,” and, just for good measure, she tacked on, “dear.”

A corner of his mouth lifted as brawny fingers closed around her wrist. Pulling her closer, Josh said, “See that you do, love.”

The word reverberated in her head and echoed in her heart. The way he’d said it—accented by the caring glow that emanated from his blue eyes—made her wonder if love would ever be part of her future. What man in his right mind would want her after what Frank had done to her? “I’m fine,” she said, wriggling free of his grasp. “I think the fire’s hot enough to get a pot of coffee brewing. I’m sure the Rangers could use a cup.”

His eyebrows shot up so fast that Kate half expected to hear the impact as they slammed into his hairline. But any amusement roused by his expression was quickly forgotten as she stepped away from his protective presence. A sense of longing and loneliness instantly settled over her. How could she miss him when he was standing no more than three feet away?

She shook off the silly, romantic notions. Even under normal circumstances—which, granted, these certainly were not—she and Josh could never be more than passing acquaintances. Maybe he did have a wife and a handful of children waiting for him at the ranch. And he had no idea that he’d elected to help a wanted criminal cross the border into Mexico. A damaged and tainted criminal, no less. Besides, for all she knew, he could be putting on a good act, just as Frank had done when she’d first met him. What if, in time, Josh turned out to be just as vicious and violent? Kate shuddered inwardly. I can’t survive another ordeal like that! Frowning, she stepped outside long enough to set the coffeepot on the porch. A few minutes out there in the driving rain would be adequate to fill it with enough water to rinse out the dust; a few more minutes, and she’d have what she needed to brew a pot of coffee.

The picture of Josh surrounded by a loving spouse and adoring children stirred envy in her like none she’d ever experienced, and Kate didn’t like the feeling. Not one little bit.

You’ve been in tight situations before, she admonished herself, searching the small, crowded sideboard for coffee mugs. So, why is this one upending your ability to reason?

Her rummaging turned up a dented washbasin, three bent spoons, and a crusty, cast-iron skillet. Finally, behind a white-enameled stew pot, she spotted half a dozen blue mugs speckled with white, just like the two in Josh’s saddlebags. She loaded them into the washbasin and headed for the door.

“Where in tarnation are you goin’, girl?” Shorty asked, standing in her way.

“To fill this with rainwater so I can rinse the coffee cups.” Closing her eyes, Kate blew a puff of air into one of the mugs, and Shorty stepped back to avoid inhaling the cloud of dust she’d stirred up. “You wouldn’t want to drink coffee out of that, now, would you?” she asked him.

“I’ve swallowed that and then some on the trail.” Narrowing both eyes, he leaned closer. “I feel it only fair to warn you, I aim to take you with me when I leave here.”

Take me…? Maybe she had been unconscious long enough for him to remember why she looked familiar. Kate’s heart ached, wondering what Josh would think when the Rangers put her in handcuffs and read off the charges against her.

But why did she care so much about the opinion of a man who easily could be another Frank Michaels?

---

Josh tensed at Shorty’s comment, but he relaxed when Gus said, “There he goes, dreamin’ again.”

“Aw, you’re just jealous,” Shorty countered, “on account o’ I have a chance of gettin’ me a purty wife who can cook and clean, but your bachelor days are gone like yesterday’s biscuits.”

“Now, let’s give credit where credit’s due,” Stretch put in. “Gus’s missus ain’t much for bakin’ pies and such, but let’s not forget that she won the tobacco spittin’ contest at last year’s county fair.”

Gus rubbed his forehead and groaned. “I don’t know what I ever did in my miserable life to get stuck ridin’ with the pair of you.” Then, he elbowed Josh good-humoredly. “Besides, Shorty there would have to win a fight with you if he hoped to take little Miss Puff-in-the-Cup home with him. Ain’t that right, young feller?”

Dinah looked as helpless now as he’d felt earlier, when Stretch had asked when her baby would be born. If a fib could erase the fear in her big, green eyes, he’d pay his penance to the Almighty later. “Much as I’d hate to get into an altercation with a Texas Ranger, Gus is right,” Josh said, winking at Dinah. “Little Miss Puff-in-the-Cup is spoken for.”

Taking a seat at the table, he watched her exhale a relieved breath, then scurry for the door. Now, why did he have the feeling that if a storm weren’t raging out there, she’d run south just as far and as fast as those tiny feet would carry her?

During the next hour, she made coffee and threw together a crude meal made up of beef jerky, canned beans, and biscuits made from the lard and flour she found in the cabin. She served the meal on mismatched plates and bowls from the cupboard, and, amazingly, managed to keep her back to them while she cleaned up afterward, too. If the Rangers had noticed, they didn’t show it or say so, but her secretive behavior sure had Josh’s mind spinning.

While the Rangers swapped good-natured barbs, Josh made a decision. When the weather quieted and the Rangers headed out, he’d have a heart-to-heart with Dinah. Until then, he thought, tilting his chair back on two legs and propping both boot heels on the table, he was more than happy to sit and surreptitiously watch as she did everything humanly possible not to attract attention to herself.

The ruse seemed to be working, if the Rangers’ bored yawns and frequent head bobs were any indication. Interlacing his fingers behind his head, Josh leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, content to imagine Dinah in his kitchen at home, humming as she performed wifely chores—and not just as his pretend wife, either.

9

Kate’s hope had been that the riders wouldn’t recognize her. If she needed proof that God had heard her, there it was, in the form of three soundly sleeping Texas Rangers and one rancher who had decided to play possum. For a while, anyway. The fact that he felt it necessary to keep an eye on her at all times hurt her feelings, and Kate didn’t mind admitting it. If the Rangers weren’t suspicious of her, why was he?

But that was being unfair, and she knew it. Josh had put his life on the line by agreeing to deliver her to the Mexican border. She’d heard it said that the Texas Rangers always get their man—or woman. If these men figured out who she was, they’d haul her in, and they’d have no choice but to arrest him, too, for aiding and abetting. Only God knew how long it might take to conduct the investigation that would prove Josh hadn’t participated in the robbery, or in the murders of three innocent men and a faultless woman.

Kate shivered at the memory but quickly shook it off. She had to stay alert and aware, and how could she do that if her thoughts kept turning to that awful day? Especially considering what her mama used to say: “You’re a terrible, awful liar! Why, every thought in your head is written on your face, plain as day!” Etta Mae had also noticed her transparent nature and had commented on it almost as often as her mama had, making her more determined than ever to avoid looking the Rangers in the eyes. For that very well could be all it would take to seal her fate.

As they’d gobbled up the pathetic meal she’d scraped together, the men swapped stories about how each of them had survived conditions far worse than this—tornadoes, blizzards, even a hurricane or two.