Beautiful Bandit (Lone Star Legends) (9 page)

A thought popped into her head so suddenly that it evoked a tiny gasp. It was a good idea, too, a selfless act that would at once show him how sincerely she appreciated all he’d done for her.

As she gathered up the empty breakfast plates and coffee mugs, she heard the Rangers say that they planned to head for Fort Stockton, where they’d join up with some other Texas lawmen and uniformed soldiers. They were none too happy about Governor Hogg’s command to round up the banditos who’d been terrorizing the citizenry, because, as Gus pointed out, “We’ve got our own rotten fish to catch right here.”

By “fish,” he meant Frank Michaels and his gang. Kate knew that as surely as she knew her name wasn’t really Dinah Theodore. Frank deserved to be caught, deserved to pay for the death and destruction that clung to him like a depraved shadow.

“Soon as we’ve mollycoddled the governor,” Gus had snarled, shaking a fist, “them low-down varmints are ours.”

Hopefully, with the Rangers hot on his trail, Frank would be too busy keeping his own throat out of the hangman’s noose to hunt Kate down and slit hers. Still, it was only slightly comforting to know that while the Rangers were doing their duty at Fort Stockton, she was safe from them.

There was just one thing left to worry about, as she saw it: separating from Josh before her precarious situation put him in real jeopardy. There’d be plenty of time, once she crossed the Rio Grande, to worry about how she’d repay the man who could never return the affection she was beginning to feel for him.

But, oh, if only he could….

Suddenly, he was standing right in front of her.

“You all right?” Josh whispered, interrupting her musings.

Kate met his eyes and knew in an instant that she’d better run far and fast if she hoped to stay one step ahead of her feelings for this man. Unable to trust her voice to sound steady, she only nodded.

He gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “I’m a man of my word, remember?”

Of course, she remembered—that was part of her problem!

You’ll be all right, she told herself, once you don’t have to look into his beautiful eyes, once he is no longer near enough to touch, once—

“No reason to fret, Dinah. You’re safe as a baby in its mama’s arms.”

If only, she thought again.

There was no harm in dreaming it was possible for an upright man to love a woman with a sullied past and an uncertain future. Those dreams would get her through many a long, lonely night. They would simply have to be enough.

11

No sooner had the Rangers ridden off than the pounding downpour resumed. Josh had endured similar scenarios enough times to understand the misery of each muddy step as the rain pelted their cheeks and the wind nipped at their ears. He felt a tweak of sympathy for them, because he knew only too well that no matter how well a man thought he’d covered himself, the water and cold always found a way to work themselves right down to his skin.

He’d promised that Dinah would be safe with him, and he saw no point in making her ride through this miserable weather, especially after everything she’d already endured. It was after six at night when the clouds finally parted, and they went outside in the fresh air. “Twilight,” he said, “my favorite time of day.” And when she didn’t respond, he added, “We might as well take advantage of having a roof over our heads one more night.”

As she stood beside him, staring silently at the sooty sky, he couldn’t help but notice how tiny she seemed, how vulnerable and childlike. Couldn’t help but wonder what had caused this sudden mood shift, either, because, up till recently, she’d been cheerful and chatty, no matter what. He remembered the terror in her eyes when the Rangers had ridden up. He had seen a lot of frightening things in his twenty-seven years, but nothing had scared him that much. Even now, just thinking about it made him want to wrap his arms around her, defend her from threats of any kind.

He’d expected her to relax some once she realized the riders were lawmen. When she hadn’t, Josh had been left with two conclusions: She’d participated in a crime and feared punishment, or she’d witnessed one and had reason to believe the perpetrators’ retribution would be far worse. Either way, at least he had a partial explanation for the sorry shape she’d been in when he’d found her.

She turned slightly to look up at him. “Hungry?”

Josh patted his thigh. “Feed me now,” he said, grinning, “and in ten minutes, you can do it again.”

The reminder of their earlier exchange inspired a smile—my, was she a beauty when she smiled!

“Guess I’d better get busy, then,” Dinah said, heading for the cabin. “I’ll see what I can whip up.”

“Did those fool Rangers devour all our grub?”

“They left a few crumbs,” she said over her shoulder. “Maybe I’ll make soup and biscuits.”

He wanted to ask what she hoped to put into the soup pot, but his stomach growled, as if on cue. “Sounds good.”

He wanted to follow her, too, but he stayed put, intent on taking full advantage of this rare opportunity to get a good look at her, head to toe. Until now, she’d been sitting, riding, bustling around the kitchen area, or standing too near for him to see much more than her lovely face—not that he had a mind to complain about that.

The top of her curly-haired head didn’t quite reach his shoulder. She’d taken to pulling the soft curls into a tight bun, worn at the back of her head. A time or two, he’d been tempted to pluck out the hairpins, just to watch her tresses spill down over her slender shoulders like a cinnamon-colored cascade. He’d resisted, of course, just as he’d struggled against the urge to find out if her full, pink lips felt as soft as they looked.

She had feet so small and dainty that when he’d bought her a pair of boots, he’d had to shop in the children’s sizes. How they held up a full-grown woman was anybody’s guess.

And full-grown she was, with attractive curves, a smile that could charm leaves from the trees, and eyes that twinkled like big, green stars.

Stars—Sadie’s favorite of the heavenly bodies. An image of his wife materialized in his brain, and, with it, the memory of his last moments with her. “Don’t grieve too long,” she’d rasped. “Love will come along again, and, when it does, I want you to welcome it.” Ah, but she’d been something else, that bride of his. She’d clung to life like a drowning man might cling to a branch extended to tow him ashore. She’d made up her mind to hold on until she’d wheedled that promise out of him. “All right,” he’d finally agreed. “If love comes along again, I’ll welcome it.”

If he’d had children to raise, he might have understood why almost every female in his life—aunts and cousins and sisters alike—seemed driven to match him up with the second Mrs. Josh Neville. Riding home from a church social last fall, his youngest sister, Susan, had scolded him, saying, “Priscilla is a lovely girl. I declare, Josh Neville, it’s as if you’re not even trying!”

He hadn’t needed to try with Sadie, but Josh hadn’t wanted to rile his sister further by pointing it out.

Months later, Josh had had a similar set-to with his eldest sister, who’d confessed that she’d gone to a lot of trouble rigging the boxed lunch auction to ensure he’d end up with her best friend’s cousin. “Did you ever stop to think that if you looked harder, you might just find something close to what you shared with Sadie?” she’d asked him.

Why should he settle for close when he’d had it? “I’m content living alone,” he’d said. And he had been, too, right up until the moment he’d gotten an eyeful of the battered bundle of nerves cowering behind a boulder in the dead of night.

Almost from the start, something in Dinah had called to something in him, and, more and more, his heart wanted to answer. He didn’t understand it, he couldn’t give it a name, but the sensation had grabbed hold and refused to let go.

Maybe it boiled down to a man’s need to protect a woman.

Maybe he was just overtired from being on the road for so long.

He could hear her in the cabin, humming and clattering as she “threw something together” for their supper. “Better get ahold of yourself, Neville,” he grumbled. What if the abusive beast she’d escaped was searching for her? An important question. So, why hadn’t he asked it earlier, along with dozens of others? Were his sisters right? Was he the least inquisitive man in Texas?

Frowning, Josh pocketed both hands and stared up at the charcoal sky, where a million stars winked around the snow-white moon. A gentle wind riffled his hair, and he took a deep drink of it. The stifling heat had departed with the storm, but nature was fickle and undependable. Tomorrow might be a good day to travel south, but it just as easily might be a repeat of eye-smarting sun and skin-puckering temperatures. Riding in the rain definitely had its benefits when compared to certain, other conditions.

Experience told him they wouldn’t see a repeat of today’s weather, but he had the uneasy feeling he hadn’t seen the last of life’s storms.

12

They rode in silence during the early morning, and Kate couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in that handsome head of his. Even in profile, she could see the taut set of his jaw, his brows dipping low in the middle of his forehead.

He’d been quiet at supper last night and at breakfast this morning, too. That hadn’t surprised her, considering the recent oppressive heat, which had stifled even her energies for conversation. When the warmth had faded with the storm, she’d blamed his silence on the clammy stench of damp leather and wet blankets left behind by the Rangers. But after the cool breeze had cleared the cabin of foul odors, she’d run out of excuses and explanations for his distant behavior.

Until the lawmen’s arrival, Josh had been unrelenting in his need to hold her gaze when they spoke, to the point of dipping his head to maintain eye contact. It had been unnerving, at first, but in time, she’d grown more comfortable with it. But he’d barely met her eyes since the Rangers had disappeared over the horizon the previous morning.

When they’d bedded down for the second night—Josh on a pallet on the floor, she on the rickety cot against the wall—he’d said, “Peaceful dreams, Dinah, and may God’s angels watch over you.” His simple, soft-spoken words had rocked her to the very core, stirring tears and a thick sob that prevented her from saying anything more than, “You, too.”

She’d stared into the darkness for hours, listening to his steady breathing, wondering how to slip away without waking him. Climbing out of the cot and tiptoeing directly out the door wouldn’t pose a problem, for she’d worn her boots and jacket to bed. She’d also placed her hat atop a well-packed saddlebag to make it easy to grab on her way out. The challenge would be in hoisting the heavy, leather saddle without setting off a series of creaks and squeaks.

Kate tried to be single-minded about her decision to leave Josh for his own good. And, every few minutes, her brain would shout, “Now!” and she’d grip the blanket, determined to throw it off and swing her legs to the floor.

But memories of the moments leading up to his sweet, good-night wish had shouted louder….

Before they’d gone to bed, Josh had thrown his saddle over one shoulder and stepped onto the porch, filling Kate with a surge of panic. Had he determined that enough was enough and decided to leave her before she could leave him? Unable to quiet her curiosity, she’d blurted out, “Josh? Where are you going?”

He’d turned and tucked in one corner of his mouth, studying her face. “Just thought I’d bed down out here under the stars,” he’d said, his voice a gentle murmur, his frown softening with care and concern. “But I’ll stay inside, if you want me to.”

Her own expression must have told him that she wanted very much for him to stay inside, for he’d given a quick nod, winked, and dropped the saddle onto the floor.

And so, throughout the night, Kate’s conviction that she needed to leave battled the blooming love in her heart. Ultimately, she had fallen into a deep sleep and dreamed about the many kind things Josh had done for her in the short time they’d been together.

When she’d awakened at daybreak, she’d seen him in the doorway, silhouetted by the morning sun. “Horses are saddled,” he’d said, “and there’s coffee on the stove.”

Kate had gulped down half a mug of the murky liquid and taken one last look at the cabin—the closest thing to a home she’d had in nearly a month—before closing the door quietly behind her.

“We’d best get moving,” Josh had announced when she’d stepped up beside him. Then, he’d planted both leather-gloved hands on her waist and hoisted her into her saddle.

“Thanks.”

He’d snapped a two-fingered salute off the brim of his Stetson and said, “Welcome.”

And he hadn’t uttered a syllable since then.

She hadn’t thought it was possible to miss the sound of a man’s voice. But she did.

She hadn’t thought she’d yearn to look into those captivating, blue eyes of his, but, right now, Kate would have welcomed even his most intense scrutiny.

Golden pinpricks of sunlight glinted from the whiskers covering all but a thin, white scar that was angled across his chin like a boomerang. She wondered how he’d earned it, then decided that, perhaps, some lighthearted banter might brighten his dark mood.

“So, how did you get that scar?” she began.

Josh ran a glove-tipped finger over the spot. “Fell off the barn roof when I was nine.”