Train from Marietta

by Dorothy Garlock

  “I’ve never had a better friend.”

  William rose from his desk, extended his hand. The two men shook hands heartily.

  “I’d better get on home,” John said. “Lila has been worried sick about Kate. Not eating or sleeping well. She will be glad when this is over.”

  “What did she think about you paying the money?”

  “She insisted on it.”

  “She’s certainly a wonderful woman. You’re a lucky man, John.”

  “I know that.” John sighed and turned back to face his partner. “Sometimes I think I’m a disappointment to her.”

  “What on earth would make you say that?”

  “She likes the society life, and I don’t.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I agree with you, but you should try harder to like her friends. You might enjoy them.”

  It was daylight when Kate awoke. The early morning sun filtered into the cave, throwing enough light for her to see the dark rock above. She blinked rapidly for a moment before she remembered where she was. She looked around for Tate. He was where she had last seen him, lying on a blanket between her and the entrance to the cave. Her sleep-addled mind remembered how he had held her when she cried. She felt ashamed for having shown such weakness and didn’t want him to think she was going to cry every time she turned around.

  Kate didn’t know what got into her, but everything now piled on her at once, making her realize the gravity of her situation. She was here in the wilds with a man she completely trusted even though she had known him for only a few days. And to top that, a thoroughly disreputable creature was trying to kill them. She had known immediately that Hayden was coldhearted and persistent as a wild animal when he chased her up the hill with his knife in his hand. What would she do if he killed Tate? This man had become very important to her, not only because he was her rescuer but because he had touched something in her heart that had never been touched before.

  Tate suddenly rose up off the blanket and got to his feet. Kate saw him glance at her quickly, then move out of the cave. He stood next to the large boulder at the entrance and, shading his eyes against the rising sun, peered down the slope. He gripped his rifle tightly and pulled it up toward his shoulder. Kate threw back the blanket and stood. As quiet as she had been, Tate glanced over his shoulder at her and put his finger to his lips in a motion for her to be silent. She nodded in understanding and moved as quietly as she could down the side of the cave until she was standing behind him. She placed her hand on his shoulder to let him know she was there. Tate never turned his eyes from the slope, but nodded his head to acknowledge her presence.

  Kate put her lips near his ear and whispered, “Is someone coming?”

  “Someone’s out there. It might be Luke, but I don’t know yet. I only saw the bushes move. Stay inside until I know for sure.”

  For a few tense minutes, Kate stood stone-still behind Tate, her mind a tornado of thoughts. What if it’s Hayden? Will Tate be able to stop him, or will Hayden kill us both? Fear gnawed at her stomach. Her eyes stayed locked on Tate, alert for any sign that trouble was coming.

  Finally he lowered the rifle. “It’s Luke. He’ll be here in a minute, but keep quiet. Hayden may be following him.”

  Another minute passed, then suddenly Luke appeared at the entrance of the cave. “I come back.”

  “I never doubted it for a minute,” Tate said.

  “Your woman did.”

  Kate’s mouth opened to voice her denial, but a realization entered her mind before she could speak: Tate hadn’t bothered to deny that she was his woman.

  “Did you see Hayden?”

  “I see him. He back up draw but headed this way. He lost tracks but find again. Get your woman. We go.” Reaching into a bag that hung from his shoulder, he pulled out a pair of moccasins and handed them to Tate.

  “For me?” she said to Luke.

  “No. I bring moccasins for Tate.”

  Tate motioned for Kate to sit down. He knelt in front of her and raised one of her bare feet. Her feet didn’t hurt as much as they had the night before, but they were still sore. Tate slipped her foot into the moccasin. The sole was cushioned with fur.

  “They feel wonderful,” she exclaimed. “Thank you, Luke.”

  “I get for Tate. Thank him.”

  “Well, then, thank you, Tate.”

  The cowboy’s eyes twinkled, and he smiled one of his rare smiles. “You’re very welcome.” Just as easily, the smile disappeared, and he was all business as he turned to Luke and asked, “How far back is Hayden? Will he see us when we leave?”

  “Not if we go now.” Luke started off toward a dense grove of scrub oak.

  Tate tucked his bedroll under his arm. With his hand on Kate’s back, he urged her along. The warm Texas sun felt good on her skin after the cool air inside the cave. The men moved swiftly, but Kate had no trouble keeping up.

  “Won’t he find my shoes in the cave?” Kate said softly.

  “It doesn’t matter if he finds them. He’ll know we were there anyway. Now we need to find a place where we can defend ourselves if necessary.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Luke knows. He’s spent his whole life in these hills. He knows them better than any man.”

  They moved on for hours, the sun rising higher and bearing down with ever more intense heat. The landscape blurred; every rock, tree, or flower looked like the last. Kate was desperate for a drink of water but didn’t want to ask them to stop. She set her mind on keeping up with Tate, staying no more than two steps behind him. An hour later Luke finally brought them to a stop. Tate moved up beside him.

  “Your woman need water,” Luke said, nodding to Kate as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

  “We’ll rest here for a minute,” Tate said.

  Luke took a water bag that hung from his belt and handed it to Tate, who put his hand on Kate’s shoulder and said, “Open your mouth.” When she did, he filled it with water from the bag. “We have to be sparing with the water. You can have more later.”

  As the liquid filled her mouth, Kate couldn’t remember having ever tasted anything so delicious. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Tate gave the bag back to Luke. “Aren’t you going to have some?” Kate asked.

  “Later. We need to move on.”

  Tate pointed to a ridge ahead of them. “We’re going up there. I’ll be able to see in three directions and get a good look at what’s below. We’ll also be in the shade and not easy to spot.”

  “You think you’ll see Hayden?”

  “Not likely. He’s too good a tracker to expose himself.”

  By the time they reached the top of the ridge, Kate’s legs were weak and trembling. It hadn’t looked so steep when they started up. Tate handed her the canteen. “That was a hard walk. Take a good long drink. There’s a place not far from here where I can fill it. We’ll spend the day here, and tonight, if the moon is out, we’ll head south along the creek. Hole up again tomorrow and maybe make it to Muddy Creek by tomorrow night. I figure it’s a good ten miles. Does that scare you?”

  “It scares the heck out of my feet.”

  “Then let’s give them a rest,” Tate said. He picked up a stick, walked into the brush, and moved the stick over the ground. “All clear. Not a snake in sight. You can have some privacy here.”

  While Tate and Luke surveyed their back trail, Kate sat down on the ground, took off her moccasins, and rested her head on her knees. It was quiet and peaceful.

  She raised her eyes to see Tate rushing toward her. Her pulse quickened. With his hands, he was motioning for her to move farther back from the ridge. She grabbed her handbag and her moccasins, got swiftly to her feet, and stumbled back into the shadows. The stones hurt her feet, but she scarcely noticed.

  “Hurry! A rider is coming this way.” Tate grabbed the knapsack and went to the far side of the ridge and started climbing behind it. Kate followed and was only halfway up when he threw down the
knapsack, came back to take her hand, and hauled her up behind a huge boulder. Pressing her down, he knelt beside her and whispered, “A Mexican is coming out of the dry creek bed on horseback. He’s looking for something.”

  The sound of a horse’s hooves striking stones that lined the creek bed and the squeaking of saddle leather were all that Kate heard. Her heart hammered and her brain hummed. She clung to Tate’s arm and he squeezed her hand. Dear God, don’t let them hurt Tate or Luke!

  “Where is Luke?” she whispered.

  Tate moved away from her and peered over the rim of the boulder. “He isn’t far away. He knows where we are.”

  Then, through the utter terror that possessed her, a thought came to her. She was so panicked it felt as if a tight hand was squeezing the breath out of her body. She had taken a handkerchief and small hairbrush from her handbag back where she had been sitting and left them there. How stupid! She clutched Tate and put her lips to his ear.

  “I left my handkerchief and brush back there. He will be sure to see them.”

  He shot an inquiring look at her, and she felt even more panic. Her skin prickled, and her breath seemed stuck in her throat.

  Leaving her side, Tate searched through the loose rocks that lay on the ground around them until he found one the size of his fist. Gripping it in his hand, he looked over the edge of the boulder. He stepped back and, with all his strength, threw the rock in the direction of the creek bed. She heard the sound of the rock as it struck hard against the boulder above the bed. This sound was followed by a rush of loose rock down the side of the hill. The Mexican heard it too and kicked his mount into a run. His cursing in Spanish reached her ears as he rode past.

  Tate scrambled out from behind the boulder, dashed across the open, and was back seconds later holding her handkerchief and brush. He sank down beside Kate.

  “I’m sorry!” she whispered as she grabbed his arm.

  “Shhhhh … it’s okay. All we needed was a little diversion. Now I’ve got to make sure he goes on up the stream.”

  Reacting to his words, she tightened her hand on his arm. The thought of being left alone on the ridge filled her with terror. Then, reaching into the depths of her reserve courage, she loosened her hand on his arm and leaned away from him. She closed her eyes. It seemed to require all her strength to keep from bursting into tears.

  When his arm drew her close, she offered no resistance, instead wrapping her arm around his lean body. All thought left her, and she gave herself up to the joy of being held by him. Her cheek was pressed to his shoulder, and she could feel the scrape of whiskers when he laid his cheek against her forehead. Then, as quickly as their embrace had begun, he gently pushed her away from him. His eyes glinted devilishly as they watched her face.

  “As pleasant as this is, I need to go see what that fellow is up to. You’ll be safe here. Just remember, should we get separated, go along the creek bed until you reach the river. Then head west until you reach Muddy Creek.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves.

  “Because I want you to know what to do in case I don’t come back right away.” He pulled away from her, picked up his hat, and slammed it down on her head. “I don’t want you getting sunstroke either.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m used to this heat and you’re not. I’ll go upstream and find a tree to climb. I don’t think he’ll backtrack, but I need to be sure. Don’t worry,” he said when he saw the concern on her face. “When I get back, Luke should be here and we’ll have some food.” Without another word, Tate moved away from the boulder and was gone.

  Alone, Kate huddled against the stone as the merciless sun stood guard above her. She clutched Tate’s hat, her only shade, and watched the hot breeze stir the dry leaves. Each minute Tate was away seemed like an hour. She longed for the watch she had dropped during her struggle with Squir-relly She had no idea how long Tate had actually been gone, but it seemed as if it had been two hours or more. Kate was beginning to be sick with apprehension.

  The sun had moved directly above her. The heat was stifling. She took off the hat and fanned her face, trying to keep her thoughts away from the possibility that something had happened to Tate. Finally she decided that she just wouldn’t think about it. She would think about something else. But, try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself and stared in the direction he had gone until her eyes watered from the sun’s glare.

  An eagle spiraled in the sky above her, climbing higher toward the sun until it was only a speck in the vast emptiness. Oh, to be able to soar high above this parched land like an eagle!

  Kate sat and waited, hardly conscious of the fact that the back of her shirt was soaked with sweat and the rivulets ran between her breasts.

  It took several seconds for the sound to break through to her. She took off the hat and turned her ear to the north. The sound that finally reached her was horse’s hooves striking stones. Has the Mexican returned? She pulled herself to her feet ready to flee should the need arise. A sense of foreboding filled her and would not be willed away. Suddenly the thought came to her that, once again, she might be about to be killed.

  Had he already hurt Tate? She wouldn’t allow herself to think of the possibility that Tate had been killed!

  She thought about running, but even in her near panic, she realized there was nowhere to go. It would be easy for a man on horseback to run her down. As the sounds grew closer, her terror increased. She blinked rapidly, then saw Tate on horseback. He pulled the horse to a stop and dismounted. He came toward her quickly, his long strides covering the distance between them. When he had almost reached her, she launched herself against him, clutched him tightly, and buried her face in his sweat-soaked shirt. His arms pulled her to him.

  Kate was soundlessly and helplessly crying.

  “Don’t cry,” he said softly. “Everything’s fine. I told you I’d be back.”

  Kate raised a face wet with tears, her eyes swimming, her lashes spiked with them. “I thought something had happened to you! I thought the Mexican or Hayden had found you!”

  “But they didn’t.” Tate wiped the tears from beneath her eyes with his thumbs.

  “But you were gone for so long,” Kate said, stifling a sob.

  “I know. I had to be sure I wasn’t followed.”

  “Then how did you get the Mexican’s horse?”

  “Come down by the creek. We’ll sit in the shade, and I’ll tell you about it while we eat what Luke brought from his village.” He looked at her face and grinned. At that, Kate’stears subsided and a smile of her own spread across her wetface. Her heart sang like a bird.

  He’s back! He’s safe!

  Chapter 15

  HAYDEN WAS ANGRY. He was angry not only at himself but at that damn Indian kid. This wasn’t the first time that he’d had to deal with the little son of a bitch. Shortly after he’d had his way with the kid’s sister, the boy had come at him with a knife. He should have killed the brat then, but he’d thought that that would be the end of it. He’d thought wrong. How in the hell could he have known that the Indian would team up with Castle?

  As he stood in the hot sun, Hayden’s anger escalated. He was sure that the Indian boy was the one who had sneaked in and slipped the halter off his horse. It was a favorite Indian trick. Now, with his horse gone, he would be delayed. He might have made a mistake when he let the boy live; but this time, when he got his hands on the little bastard, he’d choke the life out of him.

  Hayden continued to stomp around on the rocky ground, cursing the Indian and Castle. He even had a special curse for that damned idiot Squirrelly If it hadn’t been for him trying to rape the girl, she would never have run away from the cabin, and he wouldn’t be out in this damned heat!

  Shaking his head, Hayden brought his mind back to the matter at hand. There were signs that someone had been in his camp, but they were faint. He followed them past a cluster of small scrub trees and a
low rise in the rocky soil. He was standing at the top of the rise, scanning the ground for any trace of the Indian, when, off in the distance, he saw something that grabbed his attention. There, riding directly toward him, was a horseman.

  Lowering himself to the ground slowly so as not to attract attention, Hayden fixed his eyes on the rider. The bright sunlight of the early Texas day made it hard to make out any clear details, but Hayden felt certain that from what he’d seen it was a Mexican.

  Is he looking for me?

  He’d had a couple of dealings with the Mexicans across the border. Most of these dealings had involved stolen goods or whiskey, and he’d always made out pretty well. Lately he’d had an ongoing agreement with a group of bandoleros to buy whatever gold Spanish coins they managed to find or, more than likely, steal. In turn, Hayden had his own buyers. It had been a good deal. Maybe, if he was lucky, the rider might have come across signs of the woman and Castle. He had to find out.

  He moved down the low hill and toward the rider’s path. If he moved quickly, he might be able to intercept the rider and take his horse.

  Hayden stood in the thin shadows of a stand of scrub trees and waited. Damn that Indian! He needed a horse. He had never been fond of walking, and besides, with a horse he’d have a much better chance of finding Castle and the girl. The minutes ticked by, and still he waited.

  Where was that rider? He should have come by now!

  Finally, his patience at an end, Hayden moved away from the stand and picked his way to a higher vantage point. The sun had continued to rise in the cloudless sky, and he could feel the blazing rays beat down on him. Peering out, he saw nothing: no horse, no rider, only heat waves shimmering on the horizon.

  Cautiously he worked his way back toward the spot where he had last seen the rider. There was nothing. Moving quickly, he hurried down the creek bed. If he could pick up the rider’s trail, he might be able to catch up with him. He needed that horse!

  When he reached the Mexican’s tracks, he found that the rider had indeed taken a different route. He had turned to the north and moved down into a dry creek bed. The horse’s hooves had cracked the dry mud of the bed, making it easy to follow.