Carolyn Davidson (4 page)

I killed him.
Cassie’s eyes closed, then flew open as she beheld the vision of death she’d left behind. Lips pressed together tightly, she breathed the fresh air, the scent of meat roasting over the fire, the clean smell of freedom.

“We’ve got company.” Will stood, a casual gesture, stepping a few feet from where she sat to stand next to his rifle, which was snugged against his pack.

Cassie felt the hair rise on the back of her neck, and turned her head to view the approaching horseman. Tall, rugged and riding as if he were a part of the animal he straddled, the man neared. His hat shielding his face, both hands visible on the reins, he rode in from the south, as if he had followed their trail.

“Howdy there, folks.” He was within hailing distance and he slowed his horse to a walk. The animal nickered,
and Will’s big stallion responded, a shrill challenge, jerking on the reins that held him fast to a tree.

“Behave yourself, horse,” Will growled, impatience tingeing his words, then he thumbed his hat back, calling out to the approaching horseman, “Hello yourself, stranger. You lost your way?”

The horse halted several yards away and the visitor lifted a hand to push aside his coat, revealing a silver star pinned to his shirt. “Nope, just takin’ a look around.” His gaze swept the area, a wide open space, only a few trees for shade and a sparsely grassed field. “You folks from here-abouts?”

“No, sir,” Will answered, casting a quick glance at Cassie— a warning glance, if she was any judge.

“This your missus?” The lawman nodded at her, and Cassie dredged up a smile as his deep-set eyes scanned her from top to bottom.

“Yeah, this is Sarah Jane. I’m Will Tolliver, Sheriff.”

Cassie caught her breath. In one short sentence she’d had her name changed and been tagged a married woman. Her smile trembled as she brought up one hand to shade her eyes.

“Haven’t seen a young woman hereabouts, have you?” the lawman asked, his gaze still fixed on Cassie’s borrowed clothing.

“A young woman?” Will looked perplexed, then glanced at his female companion. “We haven’t noticed anyone around about, have we, honey?” His grin appeared then, his demeanor transformed as he kicked at a small stone with the toe of his boot. “Of course, we’ve been kinda…”

His pause was lengthy and he cleared his throat. “Well, we haven’t been married too long, Sheriff, and we don’t
pay a whole lot of attention to anybody but ourselves, to tell the truth.”

“Is that so?” The horse sidestepped and the lawman tightened up on his reins. “Well, if you should come across a young gal, you might want to keep an eye out She’s wanted back in Loco Junction. The sheriff wants to talk to her.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Will said, frowning and shaking his head. “She considered dangerous?”

The sheriff nodded. “Maybe so, under the right circumstances. She’s pretty young. I’d hate to think of her bein’ alone, out on her own.”

Cassie inhaled sharply and closed her eyes.

“I believe you’ve upset my wife, Sheriff. She’s a quiet sort, my Sarah Jane.”

Cassie opened her eyes, forcing her mouth to curve in what she hoped looked like a shy smile, befitting Sarah Jane Tolliver. Her heart was thumping with an irregular beat, and she felt stifled by the weight of guilt pressing on her chest. Will Tolliver had lied for her. He’d put himself on the line.

“We’ll sure keep our eyes open, Sheriff,” Will said, easing back to the fire, turning the spit, even as he cast a look of warning at Cassie.

She returned it with a bland smile, wary of matching wits with the lawman, her eyes trained on the man who’d just claimed to be her husband. She watched as Will’s fist uncurled, focused on the lean, strong fingers, the muscled forearm where his shirtsleeve was rolled almost to his elbow.

Her gaze swept higher and found his eyes intent upon her. From the brown depths he watched her, and she quailed beneath that look. As if he saw within her very soul, as if he could pierce her thoughts, discern the knowledge
she held, his watchful eye penetrated her guise of calm control.

She’d managed to arrange her features in such a way that the sheriff had gone on his way, apparently not associating the shy young bride, Sarah Jane, with the woman who had wielded a knife in the town of Loco Junction. She’d managed to smile, hiding the thundering heartbeat, the clammy palms and the mouth that twitched alarmingly unless she held it firmly in place with the force of her will.

And the man before her had seen beyond all that. The unblinking look was less than an accusation; it held a question whose content she could only surmise.

“You never answered me, did you?” His tone was harsh. “I asked if you were in bad trouble, yesterday. And you offered me an easy out. You told me to go ahead and leave you there.” He cast one last glance at the figure of the lawman, heading south on his horse at an easy canter, then bent to turn the spit once more.

Cassie cleared her throat. It was time to face the truth, as much as she was able. She’d accepted his help, allowed him to put his honor on the line for her. She’d trespassed on that honor in an unforgivable manner, and now she struggled, wishing she could make it right. Wondering if there was any way to apologize to a man for forcing him to lie outright to the law, placing him in a hazardous position.

“I didn’t lie to you yesterday,” she said, rising to stand before him. Somehow she felt more secure on her feet, as if she were better able to run, should it become necessary. Though thinking she could escape Will Tolliver was a foolish thought indeed.

“You didn’t lie?” He repeated her words, his tone mocking, prompting her reply.

She shook her head. “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you
the truth.” Her mouth twisted and her hands fisted at her sides. “I ran off from my stepfather. He’s a cruel man and I was afraid of him. That sheriff was probably looking for me. At least, the description fit.”

His gaze narrowed on her. “You think so? He said he was looking for a young gal. Could be any one of a hundred women hereabouts.” As if he reconsidered, he looked around him at the vast horizon, unmarred by human habitation. “Well, maybe twenty or so, anyway.” His eyes softened, the darkness fading from his somber gaze.

“Sit back down, Cassie. I think it’s time you told me what happened.”

She obeyed, more because her legs were trembling beneath her than for any urge to oblige him. “Remus Chandler was…is my stepfather. I think maybe for a long time he wanted to…” She looked up, knowing her eyes were filling with tears, and choking back the need to cry.

Stripping the bandanna from his throat, Will handed it to her.

“Thank you.” Cassie blew once and wiped her nose. “He’d been married to my mother for three years or so, and all that time he was mean to her, hateful sometimes, with his name-calling and pushing her around.”

His eyes measured her, a bleak emotion darkening their depths. “Did he hurt you, Cassie?”

She shook her head. “No, not really. It was like he knew my mother would do what he wanted, to keep his hands from me. Anyway, she was sickly, really bad off for the past few weeks, like she was too tired to live anymore. She had a pain in her stomach, and she couldn’t eat much. Not at all, there at the end. Remus wouldn’t go for the doctor, and she told me not to cross him. He just kept watching me.” Her voice trailed off and she gulped, swallowing the grief that had been postponed for too long.

“What happened then, Cassie?”

She drew in a deep breath, following his urging. “Mama was bad all night long, hardly breathing. She told me to run, to leave, get away from Remus. And I promised her I would. I think she was afraid for me to be there with him, once she was gone.”

“How did your dress get torn?” Will asked quietly.

Cassie’s fingers ached from the squeezing, her fists clenching so tightly, she could barely release them. And then Will squatted before her.

“After she died, what did you do then?” He clasped her cold fingers within his own, sharing the heat of his palms, giving warmth to the chilled flesh he cradled within his long, strong fingers.

“I was going to leave, but Remus wouldn’t let me. He said I had to stay, that we had to tend to Mama’s burying. When I tried to get away, he grabbed my shawl, then my dress. And he pushed me against the wall, cracked my head on the logs. I pushed him back but he kept grabbing at me, pulling me across the room, till he was smack up against the table. The knife he’d used for supper the night before was there and I grabbed it. See?”

She moved her fingers within his and spread her hand wide. The slash was shallow but swooped across her palm, scabbed over now. “I heal fast,” she said, her head down, her gaze on the wound.

“Maybe he would have left me alone if I’d gone to the sheriff in town…or someone.” She shook her head. “But I don’t think so. He’d been after me for too long already. He couldn’t even wait till Mama was in the ground. And I couldn’t just stay there and let him hurt me…that way. I threatened him with the knife and he let go of me.”

A shudder racked her body, as if the telling of such a great lie had released the quaking within. Most of it was
the truth, all but the last part. And that she could not bring herself to confide.

“He didn’t chase you?” The thought of her peril sharpened his voice and she flinched from him, shaking her head.

“I don’t know…maybe. I just ran.” The lie came hard, and she lowered her head.

“And you just walked out of town? Why didn’t you wear your shoes?”

“I couldn’t go back once I’d left that place. My shoes were in the bedroom with Mama, and I’d have had to get past Remus to get them. I was afraid to try.”

“Did you recognize that lawman, Cassie? Was he the sheriff from Loco Junction?”

She looked up, her eyes welling, and shook her head. “I don’t know, Will. I’ve never seen the sheriff. It could be, I suppose.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now,” he told her firmly. “If we meet anyone else, you’re Sarah Jane Tolliver. You’re my wife, Cassie. Can you do that? Until we get north into Missouri, anyway?”

“You’re going to take me with you?” She’d thought he would find a place to leave her, somewhere safe that would salve his conscience. Most any man would have either taken advantage of her or dumped her at the first chance.

Obviously, Will Tolliver wasn’t cut from the same cloth as most other men. He was taking her home with him, if she’d read him right. With his horse and pack mule, his hands that knew how to heal and comfort, and his conscience that had to be churning away at the lie he’d told for her benefit, he was heading north, and taking her along.

He’d placed his honor on the line for her and told a whopper that could land him in a peck of trouble.

If ever there was a man in the world Cassie Phillips could respect, Will Tolliver was his name. And that fact alone was enough to keep her riding along in his wake, for now at least.

“I
think we’ve found a place to buy you a horse,” Will announced, drawing his stallion to a halt. Cassie peered over his shoulder to where a ranch nestled in the shallow valley just ahead. In pole corrals, horses milled about, men in wide-brimmed hats and dust-laden clothing apparently directing the general flow.

“What are they doing?” Her chin brushing his shirt, Cassie watched the activity ahead.

“Looks like they’re sortin’ them out, branding, maybe.” Will’s hands were firm on the reins as his horse shifted beneath them, snorting as the scents from the corral reached the stallion’s nose.

“I didn’t know you were planning on buying another horse. Won’t that be pretty expensive?”

“Beats ridin’ double for the next week.” As if he’d made up his mind, Will loosened the reins and nudged his mount into movement. “Stay still, Cassie. I’d as soon they didn’t pay you too much attention.”

Their arrival had little noticeable effect on the men at work, their ropes circling and snagging one or another of the herd of horses they worked with. The chosen animals were taken to a gate and led outside the enclosure, then
inspected by a tall man who watched the proceedings, clearly in charge.

Circling the side of the corral, Will rode slowly up to the man, then slid from his saddle, his grip shortening the reins until his mount was left with no leeway to move.

“Those horses for sale, mister? I need a mare or a gelding.” Halting several feet away, Will met the gaze of the older man as an Indian led another horse past him.

“There’s some of each here, son.” Lifting his hand, the man tilted his hat back, angling his head to enclose Cassie in his line of vision. “Don’t know if the lady could handle one or not They’re green broke. Goin’ to the army.”

“Got any tack to sell? I’d need an extra saddle and bridle.” Will waited while the man looked over another specimen, the horse jerking impatiently at the rope holding him. Then he nodded, waving the horse and the man leading it on their way.

“Probably some spare stuff in the barn,” he told Will, his attention on another cowboy, approaching with a dusty brown mare from the pen. “Bring her closer,” he told the rider. Then, reaching out a hand, he grasped the rope, drawing the horse before him. The animal’s eyes rolled, the whites showing as she whinnied her distress.

“Kinda shy, are you?” It was a different voice he used now. Cassie listened as he murmured softly in rusty tones to the horse, his other hand untangling her mane, then patting with rough affection against her jaw. “Was she easy to lead?” he asked the cowboy, squinting up at him.

“Yeah, she followed along like a tame puppy.”

As if to deny the claim, the mare snorted, tossing her head. Cassie laughed, the pure rebellion of the gesture pleasing her.

“Can I saddle her up, see how she rides?” Will asked.

The big man shrugged. “She’s gonna be sold today, either
to you or the army. Makes me no never mind who gets her. She may dump you, now,” he warned with a grin. “She looks kinda feisty to me.”

“I reckon I can handle her.”

It was no idle claim. During the next half hour Cassie watched from beneath the overhanging eaves of the barn as Will saddled the horse, catching her breath as he fought the animal for several seconds before the mare accepted the bit he offered.

And then she watched as he gained the saddle with a fluid movement that made her blink in surprise. The horse moved uneasily beneath the man on her back, snorting and laying her ears back, then sidestepping a bit. Will’s hands were firm on the reins, his words gentle as he coaxed the horse to his bidding. Releasing the tight grip he held, he set her into motion, and she circled the area before the barn doors, her neck bowed, head tossing against the stricture of the bit. Her tail swished, waving high, her feet stepping in double time as she kept to the pace Will dictated.

“She’s beautiful,” Cassie breathed, her eyes wide as she watched the mare perform to Will’s command. “But I don’t think I can make her behave the way you do.”

Turning the mare with the pressure of reins across her neck, Will drew closer. “You ride much, Cassie?”

She nodded. “A little. But not a horse this wild.”

Will’s mouth twitched. “You call this wild, honey? She’s downright tame. ‘Specially for a green-broke animal.”

“Maybe I could ride your stallion?” Her words sounded doubtful, and Will’s frown was a silent deterrent to that idea.

“The mare will follow along, I think, once you get your seat,” he told her. “I’ll lead her from here, till we’re away
from the rest of the horses, then you can try her on your own.”

“You’re going to buy her for me?” That Will would fork over his own money for the benefit of a virtual stranger was beyond Cassie’s comprehension.

“No, I’m gonna buy her for me. I’ll just let you ride her,” he corrected her. “You stay right here while I talk to the man.”

Cassie nodded, willing to be removed from the flurry of activity at the corral. She stepped to a bale of hay and sat, conscious of the pants she wore and the occasional looks of speculation drifting her way from one or another of the cowhands. There was an air about some of them, a hint of furtive searching of her person that reminded her of Remus Chandler, and she shivered at the memory.

From within the barn she heard the shuffling of feet, a murmur of voices, and then in the doorway beside her a man appeared, the strong odor of perspiration announcing his presence. Cassie glanced over her shoulder, her gaze colliding with narrowed eyes that slid over her slender form.

“Hey, there, missy. Want to step in here a minute?” His voice was low, almost guttural, and Cassie’s eyes widened as another man appeared just behind the first.

She shook her head. “No, I sure don’t, mister.” A quick look toward Will, who stood near the corral, prompted her to speech and she opened her mouth to call his name. A grimy hand whipped through the air to cover her mouth, and she was hauled with harsh hands into the yawning mouth of the barn.

“No need to be shy, honey,” her captor whined, releasing her mouth, turning her to face him. “I’ll warrant I can cut you a better deal than the one you got from that fella you rode in with.”

“Let go of me!” Cassie struggled against the grimy hands holding her.

“I’m not hurtin’ you, honey. Just want to give you the taste of a real man.”

The second assailant chuckled behind her and Cassie turned her head to shoot a vengeful glare in his direction. “I’m not interested,” she said, her stomach rolling as she turned her head aside, avoiding his seeking mouth.

“The lady already has a man.” From the shadows a third figure stepped into view and Cassie’s eyes pinned him with the terror she made no attempt to hide.

“Outta here, half-breed.” Snarled from the mouth she’d been trying so desperately to avoid, the words carried the stench of cigarettes. She gagged, turning from the fetid breath of the man holding her.

The Indian stepped closer, his lithe body tense as he surveyed the two cowhands. “Let her go.” It was the bravest display Cassie had seen in a month of Sundays, this dark-skinned horseman confronting two white cowhands.

Gasping for breath, wiggling against the grimy hands that held her, Cassie flung herself in desperation toward the ground. Her legs collapsed beneath her and the man holding her lost his grip for a moment.

She inhaled and shrieked for Will, attempting to crawl toward the open barn door. The second man lurched toward her, grasping her ankle. She kicked out at him. His yelp of surprise spurred Will into a loping run, catching the attention of several other cowhands.

“Damn stinkin’ Indian! Get movin’.”

The two men had their hands full tussling with the Indian, who had blocked their exit, and Cassie scrambled to sit against the barn wall as Will burst through the doorway.

Cassie’s bronze-skinned defender staggered into the shadow of a stall, reeling from a blow. Will ignored him,
his hands fisting as he considered the two cowhands facing him. Barely pausing, he drew back to deliver a telling blow to the nearest of the pair.

The cowhand’s head lolled to one side as he slumped to the floor. Without pause, Will swung to size up the second man. Cassie’s eyes widened in dismay as her assailant’s hand reached for his holster, drawing a gun even as he backed from the brief battle before him.

Dropping to the floor and rolling in automatic reflex, Will ducked as the bullet hit the wall behind him. He came to his feet smoothly, his hand flashing with the knife he had drawn from his boot. In one shimmering, underhand movement, the blade flew to lodge in the cowhand’s shoulder. With a clatter, his gun fell to the barn floor.

“What the hell’s goin’ on in here?” The man from the corral stood in the doorway, his keen gaze focused on Will, then sweeping over the two cowhands and finally coming to rest on Cassie.

“You hurt, girl?” he asked bluntly.

“No, sir.” She shook her head, pressing back against the wall, brushing distractedly at her clothing.

“You particularly attached to these men?” Will asked harshly.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’m bleedin’ bad,” the wounded man whined, and then, at Will’s vengeful glance, subsided.

“I’ll pull out my knife, but that’s all the help you’ll get from me,” Will told him, fury alive in each word. “If I had my way, you’d be on your way to a hangin’ tree.”

“She was askin’ for it.” He twisted his head to inspect his injury, then yelped as Will’s hand grasped the handle of the knife and pulled it from the wound in a swift movement.

With contempt, Will wiped the blood from the blade
against the victim’s pant leg, then slid it into the sheath inside his own boot. “You’d do well to shut up while you’re still able to talk, mister, or the next thing she’ll be askin’ for is your head on a platter,” Will said with deceptive mildness.

The cowhand stifled his muttering and appealed with an uplifted hand to his employer.

“I’ll give you a rag to wrap your shoulder with, Hopkins, and then you’ll be out of here. You’d be advised to make tracks before this gentleman changes his mind. From the way that knife stopped you dead, I’d say he’s quite a hand in a fight.”

Will turned to where Cassie sat against the wall, and dropped to one knee beside her. “Sure you’re all right?” he asked. At her quick nod, he lifted her to her feet, steering her outside to sit atop a bale of hay.

“I’m sorry, Will,” Cassie said softly. “I truly didn’t say or do anything to give them leave to act that way.”

“Just bein’ here was enough of a nudge where men like those two are concerned.” He tilted his hat back and surveyed her, his eyes still dark with the residue of anger. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Cass. Just remember that.”

With long strides he walked to where the older man stood. Gesturing toward the barn, he was sending several men on a mission, guaranteed to rid his operation of the pair of troublemakers. His look toward Will was apologetic, and his hand swept out in a gesture of respect.

Will grasped it firmly and shook it, then dipped his hand into his side pocket. Quickly he counted out cash, paying for the horse he’d chosen, and turned to where the mare was tied to the top pole of the corral.

Motioning Cassie to join him, he handed her the reins. “The fella’s gonna write me up a bill of sale. We’ll get
some food from the house. Just have to tell the cook he sent us.” Gathering up the reins of his stallion, Will started toward the house.

Breakfast had been scant—flat biscuits and some stringy, dried meat that required an enormous amount of chewing. Food freshly cooked would taste like manna from heaven, Cassie thought, trailing behind Will.

Tying the reins to a hitching rail near the back door of the big farmhouse, Will shot her a glance. “Wait here. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

Cassie nodded, then turned to the brown mare. She lifted one hand to touch the side of the animal’s jaw, felt the flinch of alarm as the horse responded to the unaccustomed handling. “It’s all right, girl. It’s all right,” she murmured beneath her breath, feeling a measure of bravery as she increased the pressure of her stroking.

“You ride much, ma’am?” From behind, the raspy voice startled her and Cassie jerked. The mare whinnied, tossing her head, and Cassie turned quickly.

The tall man from the corral had followed them, and now he eyed the young woman before him, her face flushed from the sun and no small amount of anger. “She’ll settle down,” he said quietly. “You married to that cowboy?”

Cassie swallowed, wary of the lie she must tell. Her chin tilted as she considered the man who watched her. “Will Tolliver’s my husband, yes,” she said finally. “I’m Sarah Jane Tolliver.”

“You’re not in trouble, are you, Sarah Jane Tolliver?” The eyes watching her narrowed a bit, taking on a speculative gleam as he awaited her reply.

Cassie stiffened, her gaze meeting his. “No sir, mister. I’m not.”

“I’ve got a daughter about your age, girl. I’m not sure
I’d want her ridin’ around the country dressed in a man’s duds, drawin’ the eye of every cowhand and stray Indian.”

Cassie’s mouth firmed, her jaw tightening at his words. “That Indian in the barn didn’t hurt me.”

“You didn’t answer me, girl. I asked if you do much ridin’.”

“Not much, lately. But Will says I can handle her all right.” Cassie drew in a deep breath. “Mister, that Indian in the barn was trying to help me.”

“He was part of the problem, miss. He’s already on his way.”

She flinched at his words, but subsided, aware that nothing she said would make a difference.

His dark eyes gave her one more measuring look before he turned to the house. “Here comes your husband now, ma’am. I told him to get some grub from the cook.” His long fingers reached up to sweep the hat from his head and he nodded once in her direction. “A pleasure to do business with you folks. I’m only sorry I had those roughnecks on my crew.”

“What did he say to you, Cassie?” Will had helped her astride the saddle, adjusted the stirrups and snugged her moccasin-clad toes into them. Now he mounted his stallion, leading her horse behind him until the ranch was almost out of sight.