by Lough, Loree
Her playful smirk woke those feelings inside him again, the ones he’d thought he’d never experience again. But before he could tell her that he had complete confidence in her cooking abilities, a gigantic dollop of water leaked through a hole in the roof and landed with a noisy plop on her head.
“Goodness,” she said as a second drop splashed onto her head, “that might feel refreshing, if my hair wasn’t already soaked to the scalp.” She punctuated the admission with a shiver and a giggle. “So, you’re sure, are you, that this storm will last all night?”
“Could end sooner, but I don’t think so.”
Dinah rolled her eyes. “Well, for the love of honey biscuits, even I could have come up with an answer like that!”
The logs popped and sizzled, making her jump. My, but she looked tiny, standing there near the rough-hewn table. “How tall are you?” he asked, out of curiosity.
“Don’t rightly know. Last time my mama got her yardstick after me, it wasn’t to take my measure.”
“Now, why don’t I have trouble believing that?” Using his rain-soaked bandanna, he wiped down two of the four rough-hewn chairs.
She relieved him of it, looking shy and frightened when their fingers touched. “Let me do that—woman’s work, you know?” she said, winking. Then, pointing at the blanket, she added, “You should get out of those wet things.”
Josh quickly did as she suggested. For one thing, it made perfect sense to comply. For another, he didn’t like the cold, clammy feel of his clothes sticking to his skin. Mostly, though, he’d gone along with her suggestion because she’d looked downright concerned while delivering it—the way a loving wife might.
By the time he came out from behind the curtain, she’d lit every lantern in the place. “Feels good to be warm and dry, doesn’t it?” she said, adding his sodden clothes to her own on the table. Then, one by one, she wrung the water from each article of clothing into a dishpan while humming a happy little tune.
Josh picked up a sock and started squeezing the water from the toe, thinking that if they both worked at it, they could make the job go more quickly.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Dinah said, grabbing the sock from him. When he started to protest, she held up a finger. “This is woman’s work, too,” she said with calm authority, then pointed to the nearest chair. “Take a load off, cowboy.”
Like an obedient child, he sat. “Are you hungry?”
“I’ll tell you a little secret about me,” she whispered, leaning closer. “I have a serious medical condition.”
Josh felt a surge of worry.
“My mama called it a hollow leg.”
A wave of relief and amusement mingled in his mind, prompting a quiet chuckle. Being this near to her roused a recollection of when they’d stood outside earlier, Dinah staring up at him and looking for all the world like a drowned angel. She’d been close enough to kiss, if he’d wanted to—and he’d wanted to, all right!
So, why hadn’t he?
His stomach growled, rescuing him from having to come up with an answer.
Dinah took the blanket from the rope and folded it into a tidy square, just as she’d done with the one he’d loaned her the night he’d found her, cold and cringing, behind that big rock. She draped his socks over the rope, then patted her flat stomach. “My mama always used to say you could feed me to overflowing, and then, in ten minutes, do it all over again.”
“That’s what Lucinda and my ma say about me.”
But Dinah didn’t seem to have heard him. She stood at the door with her nose pressed to the wood, peering through the cracks. “In case you’re wondering,” he joked, “I think it’s raining out there.”
“I thought I heard something. Sort of like thunder, only—”
He heard it then, too—hoofbeats closing in on the shack, hard and fast.
“I count three men,” she said, her voice raspy, as if she believed whispering would keep them from stopping. “They must have seen our lights. And the smoke from the stovepipe.”
Josh was on his feet in a heartbeat. “Get your pistol,” he barked. “Put it in your boot. And I know it’s warm in here, but put all your clothes back on. Everything, wet or dry.”
That got her attention. When she turned, her eyes sparkled like emeralds. “Even my hat?”
“Even your hat.”
Concern flickered in the green orbs. “But—but why?”
“Whoever they are, they’ve a mind to get in out of this mess, same as us.” As he spoke, he shoved his own revolver into his belt and shrugged into his jacket. “And if they’re bandits, they’ll take anything that isn’t nailed down or tacked on, that’s why.”
It took most of his willpower to tear his gaze from hers. He hated scaring her, but if it meant keeping her safe, so be it. Fully dressed, he peered through the opening between the window frame and the wooden door. “You know how to use that thing?” he asked without looking around.
“I—I think so.”
Fear rang loud in her voice, and he turned around. “Just pull back on the hammer, aim, and fire.” He forced a grin. “Just be sure you’re aiming at the man you hope to stop, not me.”
Dinah nodded, which told him she knew it would take only minutes for the riders to hitch their mounts out front, and that, seconds later, they’d burst through the door. He then realized that he had only minutes to teach her a thing or two—lessons that could very well save her life. And, quite possibly, his, too. He gripped Dinah’s shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “Did your mama ever say, ‘Do as I say, not as I do’?”
Another nod.
“Well, keep that in mind once they’re inside, in case I have to do or say something that doesn’t seem to make sense. I think we’ll be all right.”
“Y-you think we’ll be all ri—”
“What did I promise you out there on the trail?” he interrupted her.
The way she stood there, trembling and blinking up at him, told Josh he’d been right. Brutal bandits—or outlaws of some sort—had been responsible for her predicament and her paranoia.
“You said….” She licked her lips and straightened her shoulders. “You said I’d always be safe with you.”
The thundering hoofbeats stopped.
The riders had arrived.
In no time, they’d step inside and shake the rain from their coats. Could he convince her in the next few seconds to trust him completely? “Did you believe me?”
She bit down hard on her lower lip. “I did. And I believe you now, too.”
“Good. Then follow my lead. Got it? And quit lookin’ so all-fired scared. We’ll just pretend to be a nice married couple who came in here to wait out the storm. Bandits are like cougars; if they smell fear, they’ll be all over you.”
Dinah took a gulp of air and let it out slowly as the door burst open and slammed against the wall.
In all his years, Josh had never seen a larger man. Rain poured down his coat in torrents and formed puddles between his muddy boots. He was chewing a thin twig that extended out of the right corner of his dark-mustached mouth, and, in one swift move, he shrugged out of his slicker, exposing a rifle—and a badge. “Gus Applegate,” he said, extending a beefy hand toward Josh.
Josh breathed a silent sigh of relief as he gripped it. The encircled silver star was all the proof he needed that these men were Texas Rangers.
“Sorry ’bout the mess, ma’am,” Gus said to Dinah, stepping into the center of the room as his comrades stomped inside behind him. “I’d sure as shootin’ like to know who riled ol’ Mother Nature, ’cause that’s one powerful-bad storm out there!” As the door closed behind the last of the Rangers, he said, “So, what brings you nice folks out here in this weather?”
“Just heading home from doing business in San Antonio,” Josh said in as casual a voice as he could.
Gus gave Dinah a quick survey. “Long way for a purty young thing like this to ride.” He scowled at Josh in disapproval. “And dangerous, to boot.”
“Tried to talk her out of coming with me,” Josh said, shrugging, “but—”
“No need to say more,” said the second Ranger. “Women. Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em.” Chuckling at his own joke, he stuck out his hand. “Shorty McAllister. And you are?”
“Neville,” Josh said, shaking it. “Josh Neville.”
The third man stepped up and offered his hand, too. “Name’s Ephram Bradley, but, mostly, folks just call me Stretch.”
“Not ’cause he’s tall, mind you,” Gus put in, “but ’cause he can take two hours to tell you what he ate for breakfast.”
After a moment of jovial laughter, all three hung up their coats and hats. They leaned their rifles against the wall, Josh noted, but kept their sidearms. Not that he blamed them. It was reassuring to have his own Colt belted to his hip.
“What sorta business put you in San Antone, if you don’t mind my askin’?” Shorty said.
Josh had witnessed a Gatling gun demonstration a while back, and if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed any weapon could fire a thousand rounds in a minute. Well, Shorty McAllister talked even faster than that. He stood barely taller than Dinah, but his stance—chest puffed out and chin raised high—made it clear he wanted an answer, whether Josh minded giving it or not. Since he’d never liked playing cat and mouse, he said, “Anthrax epidemic killed off a thousand head of cattle, and now the land where they’d been grazing is tainted. Had to sell some acres to make up the loss, and the only interested buyer wouldn’t pay up unless I met him on his own turf. So.…” Josh let a nonchalant shrug finish his sentence, hoping he hadn’t offered too much information, because, in his experience, that’s what made a man look guilty.
Gus muttered a curse. “You don’t mean to say you’ve got cash on your perso—”
“No, no,” Josh assured. “Banknote.”
Stretch, red-faced from struggling to get out of his wet boots, grunted. “Good thing, too, ’cause we’ve been tailin’ Frank Michaels and his gang of murderin’ thieves. Last we heard, they were hidin’ out somewhere close by.”
Josh heard Dinah’s tiny gasp, but before he could figure out what had provoked it, Shorty said, “We been doggin’ ’em for nigh onto a week, now. Almost had ’em, too, when this confounded storm muddied up their tracks.” A quick look at Dinah stopped him as effectively as a hand clamped over his mouth. Narrowing one eye, he said, “Hey, don’t I know you from someplace?”
A nervous giggle exploded from her mouth. “It’s the funniest thing,” she said, “but people tell me that all the time.” Looking at Josh, she added, “Don’t they, darlin’?”
Josh hoped his forced smile didn’t look too fake. “Guess you just have one of those faces, darlin’.”
The Ranger stared hard at her for another second or two and then shook his head. “Nah, ain’t that. I’d bet my next paycheck that I know you from someplace.” He gave a shrug. “Don’t worry none. It’ll come to me before long.”
He stepped closer to his comrades, who were lighting cigarettes and talking. On the heels of their raucous laughter, the threesome picked up where they’d left off, griping about how the Frank Michaels Gang had left half a dozen bank heists, train robberies, and dead bodies in their wake between here and San Antonio.
“We’ll get ’em,” Stretch snarled, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. “They got a female with ’em now. Don’t matter none that she’s an outlaw; she’ll slow ’em down, sure as I’m standin’ here, simply ’cause she’s a woman.”
Josh glanced at Dinah, whose rosy cheeks had paled to a chalky gray. He reached her just in time to catch her as she fainted.
8
When Kate opened her eyes and looked into Josh’s worried face, her first impulse was to comfort him. He’d been so kind, so sweet, so gentle. And so generous….
Then, reality set in, and she remembered where they were, and why. But she couldn’t figure out what was causing the loud hammering in her ears—the ferocity of the storm or her hard-beating heart.
Blinding flashes of lightning sparked through cracks in the cabin walls, each one waking a white-hot memory: Frank’s threat to slit her throat if she ran off; the ghastly image of Claribel and the men he’d shot; her own name emblazoned on the wanted poster. She also formed a clear, mental picture of herself swinging at the end of a rope.
The men’s voices sounded hollow and distant, reminding her of hot, summer days from childhood, when she and her playmates would take turns diving into the millpond behind her grandmother’s house, their smiling faces easily identifiable through the water’s translucence, their shouts nearly as muted and murky as the pond’s spongy floor.
Kate sipped from the canteen Josh pressed to her lips, wondering how long she’d been out. Not long enough, she prayed, for the Rangers to study her face, because surely the one who’d thought he recognized her would have put two and two together.
“Well, sir,” Stretch said, “if I had me a cigar, I’d light it up in your honor.” He slapped Josh’s shoulder. “My wife swooned, too, purty near ever’ time she was expectin’. Don’t rightly know why carryin’ a young’un makes women keel over thataway, but….” He chuckled and gave Josh’s back a friendly slap. “So tell us, boy, when’s the baby due?”
Josh looked every bit as confused as Kate felt. His gaze fused to hers, as if he hoped she’d send him a suitable response by way of the invisible thread that locked their eyes together. If the lawmen believed she and Josh were married—and why else would a self-respecting man and woman be out here in the middle of nowhere together?—maybe they hadn’t figured out who she was.
At least, not yet.
“Thank you,” Kate said, trying to change the subject. “But I’m fine. Really.” She sat up, then tried to get onto her feet. “I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never fainted, not once in my entire life!”
And it was true. That’s why, when the unfamiliar, woozy sensation had tickled the edges of her consciousness, she hadn’t recognized it for what it was. And why, when the room had started spinning and everything had turned a muddy yellow, she hadn’t tried doing anything to avert the episode.
“Well, y’ain’t never been pregnant before, that’s why,” Shorty pointed out.
She couldn’t afford to dally. The quicker she set about the business of stoking the fire, making coffee, and rustling up something for the men to eat, the better. Performing mundane chores would give her a good excuse to keep her back to the Rangers and give them less of an opportunity to match her face to the crude drawing on the wanted poster.
The instant she stood up, a second wave of dizziness overwhelmed her and nearly put her right back on the floor.
She ended up in Josh’s arms again, instead.
“You scared me half out of my wits,” he said, tucking several stray wisps of hair behind her ears before setting her down gently but keeping his arms around her.
The heat of a blush warmed her cheeks. Did she feel hot and clammy because so many men had crowded into the small, damp space? Because the woodstove was radiating heat? It certainly couldn’t be because Josh held her so tenderly—could it?
She pressed both palms to his chest and stood at arm’s length from him. Frank had held her this way, and look where that had gotten her!
Then, she remembered what Josh had said just moments before the first Ranger had burst through the door: “Follow my lead.” Later, when they were alone, she’d confess how much she admired his acting skills. If his performance had nearly convinced her of his genuine concern for her, surely the Rangers had fallen for his act, too.
Well, two could play that game. “The next time you tell me not to skip a meal,” she said, touching a fingertip to the end of Josh’s nose, “I promise to listen,” and, just for good measure, she tacked on, “dear.”
A corner of his mouth lifted as brawny fingers closed around her wrist. Pulling her closer, Josh said, “See that you do, love.”
/> The word reverberated in her head and echoed in her heart. The way he’d said it—accented by the caring glow that emanated from his blue eyes—made her wonder if love would ever be part of her future. What man in his right mind would want her after what Frank had done to her? “I’m fine,” she said, wriggling free of his grasp. “I think the fire’s hot enough to get a pot of coffee brewing. I’m sure the Rangers could use a cup.”
His eyebrows shot up so fast that Kate half expected to hear the impact as they slammed into his hairline. But any amusement roused by his expression was quickly forgotten as she stepped away from his protective presence. A sense of longing and loneliness instantly settled over her. How could she miss him when he was standing no more than three feet away?
She shook off the silly, romantic notions. Even under normal circumstances—which, granted, these certainly were not—she and Josh could never be more than passing acquaintances. Maybe he did have a wife and a handful of children waiting for him at the ranch. And he had no idea that he’d elected to help a wanted criminal cross the border into Mexico. A damaged and tainted criminal, no less. Besides, for all she knew, he could be putting on a good act, just as Frank had done when she’d first met him. What if, in time, Josh turned out to be just as vicious and violent? Kate shuddered inwardly. I can’t survive another ordeal like that! Frowning, she stepped outside long enough to set the coffeepot on the porch. A few minutes out there in the driving rain would be adequate to fill it with enough water to rinse out the dust; a few more minutes, and she’d have what she needed to brew a pot of coffee.
The picture of Josh surrounded by a loving spouse and adoring children stirred envy in her like none she’d ever experienced, and Kate didn’t like the feeling. Not one little bit.
You’ve been in tight situations before, she admonished herself, searching the small, crowded sideboard for coffee mugs. So, why is this one upending your ability to reason?
Her rummaging turned up a dented washbasin, three bent spoons, and a crusty, cast-iron skillet. Finally, behind a white-enameled stew pot, she spotted half a dozen blue mugs speckled with white, just like the two in Josh’s saddlebags. She loaded them into the washbasin and headed for the door.