Her Rocky Trail (Seeing Ranch series) (A Western Historical Romance Book)

by Florence Linnington

  “You were gone for so long. I did not know what had happened. I thought you needed my help.”

  “How would you help?”

  “I...” Kitty opened her mouth then shut it, knowing she didn’t have an answer. “I was concerned,” she said lamely.

  “That doesn’t matter,” Cyrus hissed. “Be concerned all you need to be, but keep your dang self alive. Don’t you get yet that I care for you?”

  Kitty’s jaw dropped. For a long moment, they stared at each other, only their heated exhales filling the air.

  “If something happens to you...” Cyrus was at a loss for words. He wasn’t even quite sure what he was trying to say. He’d brought Kitty out west thinking she would just be another woman to fulfill his basic needs. He’d enjoyed the company of a number of ladies over the years, but not one had stood out any more than the others.

  Until Kitty. It was the wild spirit that both drove him crazy and drew him to her. She did what she wanted to, and though he hated that, he also found it made him want her more.

  “If something happens to me, what?” Kitty quietly asked. “What were you planning on saying, Cyrus?”

  Cyrus shook his head and looked at the ground. He still felt her gaze on him, though, asking for his attention.

  “Is this how things will be?” he asked. “I’ll tell you to do something, and you’ll go right around and do the opposite?”

  Kitty’s cheeks flushed. “I do possess a mind, Mr. Ross. And while I will often perform all of the expected obligations of a wife, do not expect me to do anything that goes against my good conscience.”

  “Don’t call me that,” he roughly whispered.

  “Your name?”

  “Call me by my name, Kitty, but it better not be my surname.”

  She opened her lips to retort again, but Cyrus was done with the fighting. Reaching forward, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. Kitty gasped in surprise, but a second later and his mouth covered hers, halting any further exclamations.

  Cyrus gently moved his lips against hers, making each sweep of his mouth firm but tender. With his touch came a mission—to show her how much he needed her, how much he cared for her. There would be no fighting it.

  Kitty relaxed in his arms, tilting her head further back and splaying her fingers across his chest. Heat filled Cyrus from his toes to his fingertips.

  Too soon, he knew he had to stop. Breaking away from her, he took a small step back but kept his arm around her waist. “Next time you think of doing something foolish, remember that.”

  Kitty’s puffy lips were open in shock, her eyes wild. Cyrus longed to keep her in his arms forever, but there was still a task to finish. One day, when they got out of those mountains… then he would take her to their new home and never let her go. He’d plant her a garden, and let her name all the horses, and take her to church every Sunday and Wednesday—whatever she wanted.

  But that time wouldn’t come easy. They had to fight for it. They had to get Helen and get free from the hills.

  “Let’s go.” He nodded over her shoulder. “We’ve wasted enough time.”

  Cyrus strode back toward the field, listening for the sound of her footsteps behind him, a smile on his lips.

  Chapter Thirteen

  13. Kitty

  Chapter thirteen

  Kitty rocked in her saddle, her legs and back already weary from the last two hours of riding. She’d wrung out the last of the water in her skirts, and now they clung awkwardly to her legs. Ahead of her, Cyrus rode, posture stiff and head regularly turning left to right as he surveyed the area.

  After searching around the field the fire had been in for tracks and finding none, they’d continued down the river. It was, simply put, their only choice.

  They had gotten lucky, though, and found hoof prints twice, in spots where the rocks and grass gave way to mud. As Kitty rode, her thoughts bounced back and forth from the dangerous situation at hand to Cyrus.

  She could not afford to be distracted by him. Though she had wanted him to kiss her terribly all day long, once he did, it made the entire world spin. Now her lips burned to touch his again. Thoughts of his eyes and hands crowded her mind, demanding her attention. If she were not careful, she would lose all sense of reality. She would not notice what lay in front of her—which meant she might miss something crucial, such as a sign from her sister. She could not afford to lose sight of what was most important.

  One day there would be time for the affections that she so craved. Just not yet. Until Helen was found, Kitty needed to continue to focus solely on the rescue.

  Still, knowing that Cyrus’ touch waited for her set Kitty’s heart ablaze. She had never before sought the affections of the opposite sex, but now she understood the longing looks she’d seen some women give men.

  “Whoa,” Mr. Guthrie said from the front of the line. The horses all stopped, and Kitty leaned forward in her saddle.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Mr. Guthrie handed something to Cyrus, who turned to Kitty. At the sight of the blue dress scrap in his hand, Kitty gasped. She seized the cloth, holding it tight to her chest as if it contained Helen herself.

  “They cannot be far,” she whispered.

  Cyrus smiled at her, making her heart feel it had sprouted wings.

  “We’re about to camp,” he said. “Sun will be setting soon.”

  Kitty shook her head in confusion. “Oh, but we are so close. We just found this. Could they not be right ahead?”

  A shiver went through Kitty, both at the thought of finding Helen and facing a band of savage bandits.

  “Exactly,” Mr. Guthrie answered. “But maybe not. This could have been here for days.”

  “Domino and I discussed it,” Cyrus calmly explained, “And if the bandits are camping not too far off, we want to sneak up on them. Soon as night falls, we’re going to send a scout up ahead.”

  Kitty nodded, still clinging to the piece of dress. The plan made sense.

  “What about up over there?” Mr. Starkey asked from behind Kitty. “Side of that hill looks good. Rain clouds been gathering in the east, and we might need that overlook.”

  “Let’s see,” Cyrus answered, sending Kitty another look before turning back around.

  Tucking the piece of dress into her jacket pocket, where she’d placed the other ones, Kitty patted her horse’s neck and urged him on. By the hill, they discovered something better than an overlook. A cave, albeit a small one, cut into a rock face in the side of the hill. It would be enough for them all to at least sit up in should rain come.

  Forcing her aching muscles off the horse, Kitty got to work helping Mr. Walsh ration off the last of their food. They had a bit of beef jerky plus some morel mushrooms they had found earlier.

  “We’re going to need to fish again,” Mr. Walsh declared. “I hope that raw fish isn’t making you ill, miss.”

  “It will have to do. We are lucky to have it,” Kitty answered, wiping the dirt from the mushrooms on her already soiled dress. Nearby, Mr. Guthrie, Nelson Bowles, and Cyrus spoke, and she burned to know what they said. Edging forward, she caught the tail end of the conversation.

  “You’re fast?” Cyrus asked Mr. Bowles.

  “Pretty fast,” he nodded.

  “Right.” Cyrus clapped him on the shoulder. “Be careful. If anything seems suspicious, leave. Send us the call.”

  Mr. Bowles tipped his hat and pursed his lips, imitating a trilling bird call composed of several long notes. With that, he turned and went up the side of the hill, disappearing into the steadily-darkening woods.

  “He is looking for the bandits’ camp?” Kitty asked.

  The two men left turned to her, but Mr. Guthrie walked away—either not wanting to answer Kitty, or knowing Cyrus would.

  Taking his hat off, Cyrus ran his fingers through his thick, wavy hair. Kitty caught herself watching the movement, becoming distracted in the way she had promised herself she would not.


  “Yes,” Cyrus finally answered. “He’s sneaking on down the river. It’s the quietest path. Less shrubbery and sticks to make noise. If the bandits are put up for the night somewhere near here, we’ll be able to sneak in on them while they sleep.”

  A chill darted up Kitty’s spin. This could be it. Helen could be within a mile or two.

  “About earlier...”

  Kitty looked at Cyrus in question, waiting for him to continue.

  “I know you have a spirit. I can see that clear as day. Just promise me you’ll think before you act. I meant what I said, Kitty. I don’t want something to happen to you, too.”

  Kitty drew her bottom lip between her teeth. She had thought Cyrus was going to mention the kiss. “I will.”

  There. That was a simple promise and not a specific one at all. She could certainly hold true to it.

  Cyrus nodded long and slow, his face still turned to her. “How are you holding up?”

  Kitty hugged herself. “I am persevering.”

  Another slow nod and Kitty became aware of just how close the others were. If they were not there, would Cyrus have reached out and touched her? Perhaps kissed her the way he had earlier?

  “Let’s get you settled up for the night,” he said. “You need to get your rest.”

  “What if Mr. Bowles finds them?” she anxiously asked, thinking of the faux bird call.

  “The others and I will take turns staying up. Someone will always be awake.”

  Kitty nodded in acknowledgment and turned back for the cave. While Jim kept first watch, the others gathered in silence, eating their rations for the evening. A few sprinkles of rain hit the ground, but the clouds moved on shortly, revealing a brilliant moon.

  Crouching just a few feet inside of the cave, Kitty leaned uncomfortably against the rock wall, listening for Mr. Bowles’ bird call. The rock was cold against her back, and she shivered underneath her jacket. Despite the discomfort, exhaustion crept over her body. Before long, her head fell back, and her eyes drifted closed.

  She was faintly aware of an arm wrapping around her shoulders and drawing her in close, protecting her from the night chill. Sighing in pleasure, she snuggled her face against the warm chest and breathed in deep. Cyrus. One kiss had made his smell a familiar one.

  Full unconsciousness rippled over Kitty, taking her to a place where there were no thoughts, no pain, no longing.

  Kitty shifted her weight against the cave’s floor and slowly opened her eyes. The warmth she’d felt earlier was gone. Sitting up, she blinked against the darkness and saw the forms of the men leaning against the walls.

  The need to relieve herself had woken Kitty up, and she turned to the mouth of the cave. The mystery of the woods waited for her out there—the danger. Kitty shuddered just thinking about venturing into that mysterious terrain alone.

  The discomfort was too great, though. What she needed to do could not wait until morning. Taking a deep breath, she slowly crept from the cave. She would find a tree and promptly return.

  Heavy clouds had drifted across the moon since she’d gone to sleep earlier, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead.

  It is very simple, she reminded herself. No one and nothing will get me.

  Still fear itched in her heart, making her hesitant to make any noise. Tip-toeing along the rock wall the cave sat in, she felt for trees.

  She knew someone was keeping watch nearby but, despite keeping her ears and eyes open, she could not tell where that person was.

  Finding a rather large trunk, Kitty stopped her progress. Though it was dark, hiding behind a tree gave her a small sense of security. With one hand pressed against the bark, she began the difficult task of hiking up her skirts and unrolling her stockings while simultaneously staying upright.

  Keeping her head cocked, she listened for any strange noises as she relieved herself. A few branches cracked, and an owl hooted.

  It is simply nocturnal critters, Kitty. No bandits.

  The task finished, she swiftly righted her clothing and turned back toward the cave. She took several steps, but then the sound of footsteps made her halt.

  Kitty gasped, fear striking her heart. She thought about calling out to see if it was one of the men keeping watch, but what if it was not? What if it was a bandit?

  Kitty forced herself to slowly breathe. Perhaps the other person had not heard or seen her and did not know she was there. Slowly, she pivoted on her heel and searched the trees behind her. It was too dark. If anything was amiss, she would not know it.

  Gulping, Kitty took another quiet step toward the cave. Then another.

  The footsteps started again. This time, they were louder. Closer. Coming her way.

  Kitty tried to cry out, but nothing left her throat. Without thinking, she began to run. Branches scraped at her face, and tree roots tried to trip her. On and on she ran. Where was the cave? She should have been at it already.

  Her foot caught against something and down she went, knees hitting the earth with a painful smack.

  Kitty rolled over, ready to face whoever chased her… but no one was there.

  Had she imagined the footsteps?

  Just as she asked herself the question, someone shouted nearby.

  Kitty scrambled up, her palms and knees stinging from where they’d struck the ground. More shouting sounded from down the hillside, and then yelled words. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t tell what they had said.

  “Kitty!” It was Cyrus, his voice coming from her left, from the direction of the cave. What was going on? Were the bandits attacking?

  Kitty threw herself in the direction of Cyrus’ voice, only faintly aware of the throb in her leg. The need to be in his arms—to be safe—spurred her on. She rounded the large tree right by the cave just as he turned to her. It didn’t matter how dark it was. All she needed was a dim shape to recognize him. Without realizing it before, she’d memorized his height and the length of his shoulders.

  “Cyrus!” she cried, falling the last few feet and collapsing against his chest. “There is someone behind me,” she gasped.

  “Get behind me.” Cyrus stepped in front of her, and Kitty heard the click of his pistol.

  The yelling from before had stopped. Now the woods were eerily quiet. Kitty cast a glance behind her, at the empty mouth of the cave. The men had been sleeping there when she left, but now it appeared to be empty.

  Voices floated up the hill, from the area Kitty had heard the yell. She resisted the urge to cling to the back of Cyrus’ shirt. These voices she knew—they belonged to Jim and Mr. Starkey—but still the terror would not leave her.

  A shape came from the darkness. Jim.

  “Lord,” Cyrus breathed. Even though there were a few inches between them, she could feel him relax. “What happened?”

  Jim furtively looked over his shoulder. “Someone tried to kill Domino.”

  Ice filled Kitty’s veins. “Who? What?”

  “Don’t know. He got away,” another voice answered, and Mr. Guthrie appeared from between two trees.

  Perhaps it was the night or the abruptness of the attack, but the only time Kitty could remember being this afraid was when the gunman had boarded the train and Helen was taken.

  “Who was it?” she whispered. “One of them?”

  Mr. Guthrie ran the back of his hand against his mouth. “Can’t say. Woke up to a knife against my neck.”

  “How did you get him off of you?” Jim whispered.

  “Twisted the fool’s wrist before he got the chance to cut me. Once I had the knife, he panicked and ran.”

  “Did you get a look at him?” Cyrus asked.

  “No. Too dark, and it happened too fast.”

  Two more forms joined them in the darkness. Mr. Walsh and Mr. Starkey. Kitty’s breath came quicker, and she looked at all the men, waiting for someone to say something.

  When no one did, she spoke. “What about Mr. Bowles? Where is he?”

  “Hasn’t return
ed yet,” Cyrus solemnly said.

  Kitty swallowed against the lump in her throat, which went nowhere. Had whoever attacked Mr. Guthrie, gotten to Mr. Bowles? Tears slid down her face, and she was grateful no one could see them.

  “Someone was near me,” she choked out. “In the woods. I thought they were following me.”