The Heart's Pursuit (11 page)
S
ilver awakened to the sound of bacon sizzling in the skillet. She sat up, pushing her tangled hair from her face.
“Morning,” Jared said.
The sky was pewter in color, the air crisp and cold. It seemed a much better idea to stay snuggled beneath her blankets until the sun was full up and had a chance to warm the earth.
“Better get moving, Miss Matlock. We’ll want to be on our way as soon as we eat. The weather’s good, and we should be able to cover a lot of ground before nightfall.”
Silver rose from her bedroll and stumbled off in the general direction of the stream. Perhaps she would feel human again once she’d splashed water on her face. Then again, she
doubted it. Her body ached from head to toe—from yesterday’s long hours in the saddle or from her tumble from the saddle or from last night’s bed on the hard, uneven ground. More likely from all three.
She knelt beside the brook. Oh, how she wished she could take a real bath. Her stepmother’s pride and joy in the Matlock home was a separate bathing room, and Silver had made good use of it in recent years. She loved soaking in hot water, steam swirling around her face, oftentimes reading a book until the water grew too cool to remain in the tub. Now she would gladly settle for a pan of warm water and a door to close behind her. She would get neither.
“Food’s about ready, Miss Matlock.”
Silver unbuttoned the neck of her blouse and rolled up her sleeves. Scooping icy water into her hands, she washed her neck, arms, and face. Next she loosened what hair remained in a braid, brushed it, and braided it once again.
“Your breakfast’s getting cold.”
Once again, she swallowed the retort that came so quickly to mind. “I’ll only be a few minutes more.” She moved toward some trees and high brush, seeking more privacy.
“Be careful you don’t startle any rattlers.”
Rattlesnakes? Why did he have to put that thought into her head? She hated snakes, poisonous and otherwise. A shudder passed through her as she fastened her gaze on the ground, moving with much more care than she had before.
When she returned to the campsite a short while later,
she found her breakfast waiting on a plate near the fire. The frying pan had been washed, and Jared was putting it back in its place on the packhorse. Sensing his impatience, she sat down and made short shrift of the bacon and biscuits, washing the food down with coffee that had grown cool in the tin cup—but which still tasted better than the brew she’d made the previous night.
Jared returned to the campfire. “Ready?”
She nodded as she swallowed the last bite on her plate.
He smothered the fire with sand and dirt, then poured the last of the coffee over the coals before stirring them with a stick, making sure the fire was completely extinguished. “Time we were out of here. I’d like to reach Laramie by Tuesday. Wednesday at the latest. That means we’ll have to keep pushing ourselves and the horses hard.”
Silver stood. “I’ll saddle Cinder as soon as I rinse these dishes.” She hurried to the stream.
Jared maintained a steady pace throughout the day, resting only when necessary for the horses. If he’d had the money to buy fresh mounts when needed, he wouldn’t have rested even then. He’d learned long ago that he could go without much sleep for several days if the need arose, but the horses had to eat and rest if he didn’t want them to break down.
He didn’t ask Silver how she fared. He didn’t encourage
conversation of any kind. He told her when it was time to stop and when it was time to continue. He expected to hear her voice a complaint, but she never did. Not one word. Not one plea to slow down or request to rest a little longer or wish for better food. And no more fainting spells either. His admiration for her grit continued to grow.
When they finally stopped for the night, Silver took care of her mare while Jared saw to the two other horses. Once the animals were hobbled and able to graze, Jared started a fire and made a pot of coffee. He couldn’t help noticing how closely Silver watched as he spooned the ground coffee beans into the pot, and he was certain the next time she made the brew, it would be fit to drink.
Working together, they prepared a simple meal for dinner and settled on their respective bedrolls to eat it. Neither said anything until their tin plates were clean. It was Silver who broke the silence.
“Tell me about yourself, Mr. Newman.”
“Not much to tell.” He set his plate aside.
“I doubt that’s true.”
He offered a half smile. “Maybe I should’ve said not much of interest to tell.”
“I don’t believe that either. Tell me about your home. Where are you from?”
It had been a long time since anyone had asked him that question. Years, in fact. Which suited him fine. The past wasn’t something he cared to share with others.
“We’re going to be traveling together for many days, Mr. Newman. Perhaps even weeks. It would be nice to know each other a little better. Don’t you think so?”
He had good reasons not to answer her, but something about the way she looked at him compelled him to speak. “I’m from Kentucky.”
A smile flickered across her face. “I thought I heard that in your voice.”
“My family had a horse farm. Fair Acres. One of the largest before the war.”
His had been a perfect boyhood. Green pastures and whitewashed fences. Mares and foals cantering through belly-high grass. Sunny afternoons spent swinging on ropes from tree limbs with his brothers and friends and splashing naked into the pond. The shadowy barns filled with hay and straw, the pungent odors of dung and sweat in the air. Fresh lemonade served in the shade of the wide veranda, his mother smelling of honeysuckle toilet water.
“My father and my grandfather before him raised Thoroughbreds.”
“To race?”
Jared nodded. “Before the war.”
“And after?”
“There weren’t many horses left at Fair Acres after the war. The Confederacy took most of them. The breeding mares and stallions included.”
“How awful. Is that why you left Kentucky?”
He thought of his mother, father, and sister as he’d last seen them, lying in their coffins. “No, that isn’t why I left.” He heard the hard edge in his reply and hoped she’d heard it too. Maybe then she wouldn’t continue.
He wasn’t that lucky.
“Don’t you miss your family?”
“I have no family left to miss.” He reached for his dinner plate and stood.
“No one?” She rose as well. “I’m sorry, Mr. Newman. I can only imagine how hard that must be, to lose the people you love.”
With a nod, he reached out and took the plate from her hands. “I’ll take care of the dishes. You get ready to turn in. We’ll be on our way at sunrise.”
He turned and walked to the stream.
That night Silver dreamed about horses. Hundreds of Thoroughbreds galloping across rolling fields of green. Black horses, sorrel horses, buckskins and palominos and roans. Big stallions and young foals and pregnant mares.
She ran with them. Right in the midst of the herd. Feet soaring over the ground. Her hair whipped out behind her like a horse’s tail in the wind. She felt wild and free. Laughter blossomed in her heart, although she made no sound. Everything was beautiful in the dream, from the
bright yellow sun in a powder-blue sky to the brook running through the pastures. Joy. She felt a joy she’d never felt before. Oh, the freedom!
But then the horses turned in a tight circle and came to a halt. Their heads came up, and they all looked in the same direction at once.
That’s when she saw him, the man on horseback. He wore a hat that shaded his face from view as his horse loped toward her. She knew him and yet she didn’t know him. He was a stranger to her and yet he seemed somehow familiar. Perhaps it was the way he sat on his horse. Perhaps it was the breadth of his shoulders. In a moment she would know who it was. In a short while she would see his face.
Her heart beat faster and faster. Faster even than when she’d run with the herd.
Whoever he was, he was coming for her.
Yes! I’m ready! Hurry!
J
ared and Silver were on the trail before the sun rose in the east. It had been only two days since they’d left Central City, but already they’d settled on a morning routine that was both fast and efficient. They rode in a silence that was becoming familiar to Silver. Many times she would think of something she wanted to say to Jared or wished to ask him, but more often than not she swallowed the words and retreated into her own thoughts.
And those thoughts were usually about the man riding ahead of her. Jared had called her difficult when she refused to return to Twin Springs, but if she was difficult, so was he. Still, he could have refused her request to go with him. Or, worse yet, he could have left her in Central City or abandoned her on the trail during the night. Some men
would have done that. But not Jared Newman. His profession might not be highly esteemed and he might hate having her tag along, but he remained a man of his word.
It had been hard for him to talk about Fair Acres, about the horses being taken during the war, about his family being dead. Whether because he was a private man or because he’d been on his own too long, he didn’t like to talk about himself. She’d seen it in the set of his jaw and the look in his eyes, and she’d been moved with compassion for him.
What had happened to his family? Had they died in the war or after? Why had he left Kentucky? What made a man with his background become a bounty hunter?
Those questions and more swirled in her mind as they rode north, the Rocky Mountains on their left, the plains of eastern Colorado to their right.
As morning passed, her thoughts drifted on, this time to her previous night’s dream. It had been fresh in her mind when she’d awakened, so fresh she remembered it now as if she’d just dreamed it. How wonderful it had been, running with the horses. Almost as if she’d taken flight. No fear. Only joy and exhilaration and freedom. And that man on the horse. Her heart quickened at the memory, but she tried to squelch the response.
Hadn’t she learned anything from her experience with Bob? Was she so starved for affection that she would dream up a mystery man to fill the void? Of course not. She didn’t
need or want a man in her life. She’d learned her lesson with Bob. She was through with men. She would never marry.