“You the one caring for that horse up there?” the conductor asked, pointing towards the freight car. “If you want. They got a corral and barn just behind us. The engineer will toot the whistle ten minutes before we leave.”
A wide smile broke out on Dusty’s face. That was just what Prince needed. Like most horses, he hated being cooped up.
As he led the stallion down the ramp, Prince jerked at the lead trying to glance over his back.
“Don’t worry about the darn goat,” Dusty said. “He’ll be there when you get back.”
After turning him loose in the corral, he cursed himself for leaving his saddle at the livery barn back home. He could have used it now. Prince needed a good run to work off that built up energy. Besides, he could use it himself. A body wasn’t designed to ride a pine board.
Once again, he rolled his shoulder and glanced around to find a man staring at the stallion prancing around the corral. Something was off about the man, Dusty realized right away. He seemed different. His hat was too clean, his gun to good and the scrollwork on his gun belt too expensive.
Everything said this wasn’t a man who spent a lot of time in the saddle. Why was he interested in Prince? Granted, the horse was magnificent. But his gut told him there was more.
He was debating with himself about confronting the man when a hint of mint and rosewater washed over him. Rebecca Carson, the scent told him. It could be no one else.
She stepped up next to him, looked over the top rail and watched Prince dancing around.
“He looks happy,” she said as if the last two days of agreed-upon distance had never happened.
Glancing over at her, he had to admire the burgundy dress. It made her look all woman. Tight at the waist and a bit of a bustle. But the matching hat was a little much. A small, wispy thing that wouldn’t protect her from the sun.
She was going to have to learn if she wanted to keep that porcelain skin of hers from baking to a crisp.
“Any problems?” she asked without looking at him.
“No,” he said. “The goats getting to be a pest. But Prince here is making the trip like he was trained for it.”
Again. there was a brief pause. This time not so awkward as Prince chose that moment to drop and roll in the dirt.
Rebecca laughed. “He’s just like a little boy. Not happy unless he’s dirty.”
Dusty laughed with her and found himself enjoying it. A shared moment. He really should be nicer to her. She couldn’t help it she’d been born rich. It wasn’t her fault.
“Did he like the apples I sent?” she asked, this time turning to address him directly.
Dusty nodded. “Yes, he did. He told me to send his thanks. Billy, too.”
She looked askance at him with a raised eyebrow. Obviously doubting his ability to speak horse.
He was about to respond when he caught a movement out the corner of his eye. The strange man was approaching them.
Next to him, Rebecca stiffened as the man’s eyes traveled over her. Dusty’s shoulders bunched. The stranger’s look was enough to make a man want to punch him just on general principle.
“Ma’am,” the stranger said with a tip of his hat. Then turning to Dusty, his eyes narrowed. “That your horse?”
Dusty paused for a moment then said, “Taking him to his owner.”
The man nodded as he turned to look at stallion then back at Miss Carson. “Don’t see something that fine in these parts very often.”
An anger began to build inside Dusty, but he tamped it back down. No need to let this stranger in on the secret. But this Yahoo was walking close to the line.
The stranger turned back to examining the stallion. “A long trip. A horse like that could disappear so easily. An unlocked gate, a loose rope. A man could even make a pretty penny, turning his back at the right time.”
Miss Carson started to gasp, but Dusty touched her arm, holding her back. She had the sense to take his guidance and bit back her shock.
Dusty slowly examined the man across from him the said, “Mister, there is a lot of ways for a man to die. Trying to take that horse would be one of the fastest.”
The stranger stared him in the eye, trying to discern just how serious Dusty was.
“Shame for a man to die protecting a horse,” the stranger said.
Dusty smiled, silently letting the stranger know exactly where he stood. “Only thing worse would be a man getting killed trying to steal something that don’t belong to him. Right shameful.”
The two of them continued to stare at each other. Dusty could feel Miss Carson next to him, worried, shaking with anger. But he had to give her credit. She hadn’t made the situation worse.
Slowly, the stranger backed down. He had made too many mistakes. Talking in front of a witness. Getting so close that Dusty couldn’t miss. He could see it in the stranger’s eyes. He was evaluating the situation and coming up short.
Dusty kept quiet, staring at the man until he accepted the message.
“Well, it was just a comment,” the stranger said as he tipped his hat at Miss Carson then backed off.
Dusty slowly moved his hand to the butt of his gun as he watched the man walk away.
“Go back to the train,” he hissed to Miss Carson without taking his eyes off the stranger.
She huffed next to him. “Really Mr. Rhodes, Do not tell me what to do.”
Dusty took a deep breath. “Miss Carson, if you don’t go back to the train immediately. I will throw you over my shoulder and take you myself.”
She gasped.
He turned away from the stranger and stared down into her eyes making sure she knew he was perfectly serious. “I don’t know if he’s got friends in the area. I don’t need you in the way, if’n he and his friends come back.
The color drained from her face as she swallowed hard. But she could see she had no choice and spun around, marching back to the train like a queen. Head up, straight back.
He didn’t care if it got her back on the train. He had seen it in the stranger's eyes. This wasn’t over.
Chapter Four
Rebecca had never been so perturbed. He treated her like a child. Ordering her back to the train. As if he had every right to say what she should do.
Insufferable, she thought as she allowed one of the porters to hand her up the steps. But … she thought as she analyzed the incident with that strange man. Mr. Rhodes had been willing to fight to protect Royal Prince.
She had seen it in his eyes. What is more? The stranger had seen it. The way Mr. Rhodes spoke. The way he stood. Everything said that he was willing to kill or be killed. A cold stream of worry ran down her spine, making her shiver.
This was not a parlor in a Philadelphia front room. The rules and expectations were different. And they weren’t even in the west yet. Not the true west. What must it be like out there?
Swallowing hard, she readjusted her thinking about Mr. Rhodes. She was not so self-centered that she could not see when she was wrong. While she hated to admit it. He had been right to order her to the train. He wanted her out of the way so that he could deal with any potential crisis. While she disagreed with his premise, she couldn’t disagree with his motivation.
Her feelings were of no concern to him. Protecting Royal Prince was all that mattered. And while it hurt her feminine pride not to be placed first. She needed to come to accept that in Mr. Rhodes’ world. She would never be a priority.
Pushing back the internal ache, she sighed heavily and returned to her berth. The porter had reconfigured it to a seating arrangement. The top bunk had been pushed up and out of the way. The lower bunk had been separated and returned to the two sitting benches.
Rebecca plopped down on the padded bench and stared out the window. She wished her berth was on the other side so she could see Mr. Rhodes and Royal Prince. Her brother had put so much hope into the horse. She shuddered at the thought of losing him.
By now, he would have him loaded. And knowing Mr. Rhodes. He wou
ld stand guard at the freight car until just before the train left the station.
Who was he? she wondered for the thousandth time. He wasn’t unintelligent, she thought. Perhaps un-educated. But not dumb. No. A man who could talk so eloquently about the land. Who could see beauty in the most unusual places. That was the sign of an intelligent man in her eyes.
And he was brave. He had repeatedly demonstrated that. Protecting the boy when Royal Prince reared. Placing himself in harm's way. And then again. Out there at the corral. He had stared that strange man down easily.
Of course, there was the way Royal Prince responded to him. As if they had formed a special bond. Even the goat liked him.
Very well, intelligent, brave, good with animals. And … And something else. There was something about him that pulled at the corner of her soul. Something that set him apart from most of the men she had known.
For the longest time, she tried to work it out until she finally came to a conclusion. He didn’t care for her approval. It was unnecessary to him. So many of the men she had known were either interested in her because of her father’s influence. His supposed wealth. Or even those men that found her pretty and attractive wanted to impress her. If she had given them but the slightest encouragement, they would have tried to seduce her.
All for their own gain.
Not Mr. Rhodes. He didn’t care if she was impressed with him or not. It was as if her opinion on the matter was unimportant. And that frustrated her to no end.
Once again, she ground her teeth. Insufferable. The word was a perfect descriptor for the man. What made it even worse was that there was nothing she could do about it. Laughing at his jokes and batting her eyelashes at him would result in a dismissive laugh and a sharp roll of his eyes.
She had absolutely no control of the situation. With each passing day, that fact was becoming more apparent. And more intolerable.
.o0o.
Dusty paced back and forth in front of the freight car. A heavy clank at the back end of the train drew his attention. They were adding another freight car with a caboose behind it.
As he watched, a uniformed guard opened the sliding door. Two men with shotguns climbed up inside the car. The guard said something to them, then slammed the door shut and locked it with a heavy padlock.
Dusty’s gut tightened up. That had all the earmarks of a payroll shipment. Maybe for one of the Army forts down the line. He swallowed hard. The railroad had just increased the ante.
The whistle blowing and the long release of steam from the engine told him to hurry. He stepped away from Prince’s closed-up freight car and back up onto the platform. As he did, he noticed the strange man stepping out of the telegraph office.
Dusty’s gut clenched as the two men stared at each other. They continued to hold the stare until the train started to move, the heavy engine steel wheels slipping until they took hold. Dusty took a deep breath and jumped for the train’s steps. Holding the rail, he leaned out so he could keep an eye on the freight car at one end. And the stranger, standing there watching them at the other.
At the last moment, the man tipped his hat and gave Dusty a knowing smile.
Not good, Dusty thought. That was the look of a man who had not been beaten. In fact, it was the look of a man who had not yet begun to fight.
Dusty held there until the train had picked up enough speed that he knew no one could catch it then went in and took up residence in his usual spot. He scanned the rail car as it rocked from side to side. Several new people had joined them. A few had gotten off, but the car was more crowded.
Still businessmen. A few traveling salesmen it looked like. More families. And four cowboys.
Men like him, with rough clothes and battered hats. Each with a gun on their hip. Hat’s pulled low, the four men settled in the two facing seats in the front of the car. Why were cowboys riding a train? No horses had been added to the stock car. What were these men doing out here? His insides shivered. Something wasn’t right but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
He shook his head. He was jumping at shadows. There could be a dozen different reasons. Deadheading back west after delivering a herd. Yet his gut told him different. Maybe it was being responsible for a valuable horse. Maybe it was the way that stranger had looked at Miss Carson.
It didn’t matter. His insides were telling him to be careful. That sense he’d learned to listen to in the war. It was the same sense that told him there would be a mean bull up in a draw. Or a horse that woke up angry and not wanting to be rode that morning.
He’d always had it, The ghost sense, Jack called it. But the war had perfected it.
Without thinking or planning, he grabbed his jacket and saddlebags from the seat and headed to the back of the train.
He passed through the dining car. Laid out with white table cloths and porters serving passengers. Nothing out of the ordinary, he thought as he made his way down the aisle to the sleeper car behind.
This probably wasn’t his smartest idea ever, he thought as he stepped across to the next car’s platform and pulled the door open.
The sleeper compartments had all been converted back to plush seats. Pretty much the same configuration as the passenger car forward. But the seats were padded, he thought with a scowl as his back protested.
Miss Carson immediately looked up from her book. Their eyes met as she frowned, obviously curious as to why he had stepped into her realm. His gut tightened as he swallowed hard. She needed to know, he told himself.
Without asking, he sat down across from her and had to fight to not smile. The woman really was beautiful. High maintenance, but beautiful. She sat with her back ramrod straight. Her fingernails holding the book were polished and flawless. Even the silly hat was growing on him.
“You traveling with anything valuable?” he asked. “Something you don’t want someone taking?”
She frowned as she slowly put down her book. “No, of course not,” she said.
She was lying, he knew right away. But he couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t a secret she should share.
“Well, if I was you, I’d hide it somewhere no one would find it.” Her frown continued as if he were speaking a strange new language. “You know, the bottom of a shoe, or inside a glove. A place a man wouldn’t think to look.”
Her frown of bewilderment slowly turned over to one of anger.
“Mr. Rhodes, I can assure you. I am not a child. I have traveled before.”
He studied her for a moment then nodded. Perhaps she wasn’t a complete novice. But her natural innocence just pulled at him.
“And,” she continued, “may I remind you that my brother hired you to care for his horse. You are not my guardian. There is no reason for you to worry about me.”
He shrugged. “I’m already watching over a finicky stallion and a stupid goat. One more is not that much of a bother.”
She stiffened and her eyes opened wide as she gathered herself to respond.
“You don’t have a gun in one of those bags by any chance,” he interrupted her before she could speak.
“Of course not,” she replied as if he had asked her if she had a hidden mouse in her underthings.
“I thought not,” Dusty said as he opened his saddlebag and pulled out a hunting knife in a sheath and held it out for her. “Be careful, it’s sharp.”
Her eyes grew very big as the color drained from her face. She made no move to take the weapon.
“You are serious,” she said with a startled look. “You believe there will be trouble, don’t you? I promise you. The Union Pacific Railroad does not allow its passengers to be attacked. It is bad for business.”
He shrugged. “Maybe not. But it don’t hurt to be ready.”
She continued to stare at him, then down at the knife in his hand.
“Humor me, Miss Carson.”
Her hand hesitated for a moment then, at last, she gently used two fingers to take the weapon from his hand as if she were picking up a dead snake.
“Keep it close,” he told her. “Maybe strap it to your calf, under your dress. Somewhere you can get to it fast.”
“Mr. Rhodes,” she gasped at him, obviously affronted by his familiarity. He didn’t care as long as she had that knife if she ever needed it.
“Do you really think someone will try to rob the train?” she asked as she studied the knife in her hands. He could see the sudden realization in her eye as she understood she had stepped into a different world.
“I don’t know, Miss Carson,” he said as he looked out the window. “It ain’t easy. Train robbing. But something is going on. I can’t tell you what. Just the hairs on the back of my neck don’t stand up unless there is a good reason.”
She nodded as she laid the knife on top of her book. “If I had anything of value, I would do what you suggest.”
He smiled back at her. The girl wasn’t too high bound not to listen to good advice. That was one of the things he liked about her. Miss Carson might be from a different world, but she could adjust.
Giving her a nod, he started to rise. She immediately reached out to touch his arm.
“Please Mr. Rhodes. It is a very long trip, and I have read this book three times. Won’t you sit for a few minutes.”
He paused half up, half sitting, then shrugged his shoulders and sat back down. A man didn’t need a good excuse to sit and talk with a beautiful woman.
Should he tell her about the payroll shipment in the car behind them? Between a prized stallion, a beautiful woman, and a safe full of greenbacks. This train was a prime target.
Chapter Five
Rebecca Carson studied the man across from her. He was handsome in a rough way. A three-day beard over a sun-tanned face. Eyes with crinkles at the corners. Wide shoulders. Clothes so worn they didn’t even wrinkle when he slept in them. Thick brown hair under his hat. Did she mention, very wide shoulders?
But it was the glint of his deep brown eyes that pulled at her. As if he saw things that others couldn’t. As if he was aware of something else. She wondered about his experience in the war. She knew very well how it could change a man. Harden him.
High Desert Cowboy (High Sierra Book 2) Page 3