Love Inspired Historical February 2016 Box Set

by Karen Kirst

  “I like it this way.” The words were no more than a murmur, but he knew she’d heard him when the hand she’d self-consciously lifted to touch her hair fell to her side and a pretty blush stained her cheeks.

  She gave a delicate cough. “Thank you for the lesson.”

  Whether she meant to or not, her gratitude had the power to jerk him back to the present and the task at hand. He needed to prepare her, not stand here ogling.

  “That’s just the first one.” He let go of her soft curl and stepped back, ignoring the feeling of emptiness that settled in his gut. “Now you need to know how to saddle your mare.”

  With that he took his gun back and clomped toward the horses. There were a couple of lessons he needed to get through his own head, too. Like how to avoid falling for another pretty face with a full purse. That path only meant further pain. Because all he had to offer a rich young lady was a hard life and little money.

  If he let his feelings for Delsie run deeper than his promise to see her safely to California, he would simply be reliving his experience with Cynthia. And that was something he wouldn’t allow.

  *

  After saddling and unsaddling her mare and climbing on the mount unassisted at every stop along the trail, Delsie’s arms ached. Now that it was evening, she could hardly hold the reins. But at least Myles seemed satisfied with her efforts. Or so she hoped.

  His face had hardened into familiar lines and the camaraderie they’d shared during her shooting lesson that morning had given way to determined quiet. She tried to coax another smile or laugh from him, but he remained solely intent on her instruction. While she was grateful for his help, even touched that he’d thought to teach her, she wished for the affable Myles to return.

  Thank goodness there was only one more rest period before they stopped for the night, at a place known as O’Fallon’s Bluff. She didn’t know if her sore arms could last any longer. Her legs, on the other hand, were rapidly adapting to so much time in the saddle. The trousers Myles had given her helped, too, relieving her from the horrible chafing. She rather liked her wide-brimmed hat, as well. It certainly kept her face shaded from the beating sun.

  Amos soon announced their stop, and Delsie gratefully slid to the ground. She stretched her arms above her head and behind her back to work out the soreness.

  “I have a lesson for you, too,” Amos said.

  “What? No more saddling or unsaddling my horse?” She shot a rueful look at Myles, who was feeding Elijah pieces of jerky.

  Amos chuckled. “I think you’ve got the hang of it now. Doesn’t she, Myles?”

  Myles grunted in agreement.

  “All right. What’s the lesson?” Delsie walked over to Amos, but she froze when he lifted a dead rabbit into the air.

  “How to cook your supper.”

  She tried not to look at the lifeless eyes. “Where did you get that?”

  Amos shrugged. “Two stops back, while you were working on saddling your mare.” He motioned for her to follow him away from the copse of trees back onto the prairie. “First thing, you want to do is to clear a patch of grass, then you need to collect some dry wood for a fire.”

  Swallowing her revulsion for the dead animal, Delsie set her jaw. She could do this.

  She tore up handfuls of grass until she had a circular plot of earth. Then she searched back near the trees for twigs and branches. Once she had an armful, she returned to Amos’s side. He produced some flint and steel and patiently taught her how to use them to produce a spark. The tiny flame she finally manufactured filled her with immense pride. If only her father and sister could see her now.

  Following Amos’s instructions, Delsie fed the small fire with prairie grass and sticks until it doubled in size. “Now you’ve got to skin the animal,” the older man explained.

  “Skin it?” A clammy feeling crept over her, making her shiver despite the summer heat.

  He simply nodded and handed her the knife he’d pulled from his boot. “You’ll need to skin and gut it so you can get to the meat.”

  Delsie bit her lip. No different than our cook at home would be doing, she tried telling herself. But the sickish feeling grew worse as she accepted the knife and knelt beside the rabbit. She momentarily shut her eyes to gather her resolve, then opening them, she pushed the blade into the limp creature.

  The sight of the crimson trail trickling from the punctured fur made her turn and retch in the grass beside her. A kind hand settled onto her shoulder, bringing comfort even as she continued to spill her previous meal. At least it was Amos, and not Myles, who had witnessed her humiliating reaction.

  When there was nothing left in her stomach, she shakily wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. A part of her longed to flee and forget this whole wretched task, but another part wanted to prove she wasn’t the spoiled, rich young lady Myles still saw her as. Resolute, she picked up the knife she’d dropped in her queasiness and squared her shoulders.

  “You want to continue?” Amos asked gently.

  Delsie bobbed her head once, her jaw clenched so hard it hurt. With his quiet voice filling her ears with instructions, she set about skinning the rabbit. Another wave of nausea washed over her as she proceeded to gut the creature, but Delsie clamped her teeth against it. She was too close to finishing to quit now.

  At last the small hunk of rabbit meat lay ready for cooking. She stuck the blade into it and lifted it for Amos to see. “Done.” She threw him a triumphant smile, which made him chuckle. Her dress and hands might be spotted with dirt and blood, but she’d skinned and gutted her first animal.

  “Good work.” His blue-gray eyes were warm with approval. When was the last time her father had looked at her that way?

  The sense of true accomplishment coursing through her nearly made her dizzy. “What do I do next?”

  “Now we cook it.” Amos showed her how to make a spit over the fire to roast the meat. While she sat beside it, he graciously removed the rabbit’s remains. He returned with a water canteen and Delsie used it to rinse her mouth and wash her hands and skirt hem.

  “You’ve done real well today.” Amos took a seat on the ground next to her.

  Myles’s curtness during the saddling lessons came back. She plucked at a long piece of grass and twisted it around her finger. “I’m glad you think so.”

  Amos shot a look toward the trees, where Delsie could barely see Myles dozing, his hat over his face. “He thinks so, too, for all his gruffness. My guess is you surprised him, and he doesn’t like surprises.”

  “I did?” She laughed. Annoyed him was probably more accurate. Although he did occasionally act as though he wanted to be her friend and protector.

  “You don’t fit his prejudice against rich folks, and it’s unsettling to him.”

  Delsie eyed the fire and the meat. Did she really unsettle Myles? A small smile curved her mouth at the thought of keeping him on his toes, instead of the other way around.

  “Don’t give up on him.” Amos’s entreaty was low and heartfelt. “He needs your friendship. Maybe even more than you need his.”

  She shot a look at the older man’s weathered face. “How can I possibly help him? I only learned how to cook my first meal today.” She tossed her piece of grass into the fire with a smirk.

  Amos rubbed at his bristled chin. “Maybe,” he mused. “But I got a feeling God has the two of you here together for more than just reaching your sister.”

  The surprising thought seeped into her heart, but before she could respond, Amos examined the meat and pronounced it was done. Removing the rabbit from its spit, he used a nearby flat rock to cut off a few sections. He popped one in his mouth, murmuring, “Tastes delicious.”

  Delsie accepted the piece he offered her on the end of his knife and took a bite. The meat, while not as seasoned as what she was used to at home, didn’t taste as gamey as she’d thought it might. “Not bad.”

  “Why don’t you see if Myles wants a piece, while I douse the fire? It’s
about time to ride again.”

  With a nod, she picked up the remaining meat and walked toward the trees. Myles was still dozing. Though his hat covered most of his face, she could see enough of it to notice the relaxed quality of his jaw and the way his handsome features were slack with sleep. He looked so peaceful. And she likely looked a fright. Her hair hung as limp as the rabbit had earlier, her dress still soiled in places from her cooking lesson. But she’d accomplished something she’d never done before today—three things, actually. The reminder renewed her confidence as she used her shoe to tap Myles’s boot.

  Immediately he scrambled up, wildly looking around. “What’s wrong?”

  She couldn’t help a laugh. “Nothing. I have something for you to eat.” She held out one of the pieces of meat.

  Myles glanced at it, then up to her face. “Is it going to kill me?”

  She shook her head. “If so, Amos and I will be joining you soon. Come on, try it.”

  “It’s good,” Amos said, approaching them.

  Myles took the piece and tossed it into his mouth. Delsie watched him as he chewed. A flicker of surprise filled his dark eyes before he schooled his expression. “Not too shabby for rabbit,” he conceded.

  “Not too shabby for her first cooking lesson on an open fire, either,” Amos added.

  “Did you skin and gut the thing for her?”

  Delsie placed one hand on her hip and glowered down at Myles. “He most certainly did not. I did it completely on my own.”

  “Is that so?” he studied her, his lips tweaking at the corners of his mouth. “In that case, my hat’s off to the cook.”

  The caution had fled his gaze, replaced by blatant admiration that darkened the color of his eyes. Delsie’s stomach quivered in response and her face felt suddenly warm. It was the same reaction she’d had earlier when he’d touched her hair and told her he liked it down.

  “Thank you,” she murmured quickly before turning her attention to Elijah and offering the bird the last morsel of meat. Had Amos been correct—did she unsettle Myles as much as he did her? Did he really need her friendship?

  She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and caught him doing the same, his respect still evident on his face. Though he might not say it exactly, he was proud of what she’d accomplished. The realization set her heart thumping a little faster and couldn’t erase her smile as they climbed onto the horses and struck out again.

  Come what may, she wouldn’t give up on Myles, just as Amos had admonished. Friendship, at least, was one thing that came easily to her. Even with a gruff Express rider.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dark clouds bunched together in the western sky, bringing steady unease to Myles. They were in for a storm, and reading the charged tension in the air, it wouldn’t be a mild summer one, either. From the corner of his eye, he saw Amos watching the clouds, too, his mouth a hard line.

  Slowing his steed, whom Myles had jokingly named Moses for taking him into the wilderness, he motioned for Amos to join him in front. “What do you think?”

  Amos glanced back at Delsie, who was moving at a steady clip several paces behind them. “It might be best to wait it out, but…”

  “We won’t be able to make up the difference tomorrow,” Myles finished for him.

  “Better ask Delsie.” The older man twisted in the saddle and called back to her. “Come on up here, Delsie.”

  She guided her mare next to Myles, looking for all the world like a horsewoman through and through, except for her fancy dress. But even that was showing signs of wear after five days of long travel. Still, Delsie hadn’t lost one ounce of beauty.

  “What’s wrong?” She gazed at him, then at Amos, a slight frown on her lips.

  Myles pointed at the sky ahead. “There’s a storm coming. A good one, by the looks of it. We can wait it out, but that’ll mean covering fewer miles today. It’s your call.”

  As the men had done, Delsie scanned the darkening sky before them. A flicker of hesitation entered her eyes before her expression tightened with resolve. “I think we ought to keep going.”

  “Let’s pick up our pace, then. The sooner we’re through it, the better.” Myles dug his heels into Moses’s flanks and spurred the steed faster. Amos and Delsie followed suit.

  A short time later the first drops of rain began to fall. The sudden rumble of thunder overhead made both Myles and his horse flinch. Elijah swooped down and took refuge on Myles’s shoulder, hunkering down like a feather ball beneath his hat.

  Gripping the reins tighter, Myles kept Moses moving at a steady gallop. The rain soon dampened his jacket and trousers, but thankfully, his hat kept his face—and Elijah—mostly free from the moisture. He’d ridden through storms before during his short time as an Express rider, and yet, the black clouds crowding each other like boulders overhead stirred unfamiliar uneasiness in him.

  The rain had become a blustery drizzle, causing cold drops to slide down Myles’s collar, when Amos announced it was time to stop. The three of them sought shelter in a small stand of trees, but even those didn’t block the water completely. One look at Delsie told him she was beginning to feel as miserable as he was. She folded her arms tight against her soaked dress. Strands of wet hair lay down her back and shoulders.

  “Here.” Myles removed his jacket and draped it around her shoulders.

  She shot him a look of gratitude and gripped the leather garment between both hands. “Th-thank you,” she said, her teeth chattering. “Do you think it’ll get any worse?”

  Myles hated to lie. “Most likely.”

  “We shouldn’t linger,” Amos interjected, his gaze on the sky. “We can slow the horses to make up for not resting the full hour.”

  Delsie passed around some jerky they’d acquired at the home station that morning. No one spoke—Myles guessed the other two were paying as much attention to the driving rain and churning sky as him.

  Once the dried meat was gone, he led the horses to a nearby creek. Though small, the rain had swelled the stream beyond its banks. He let them drink their fill, then led them back to the group. A nod from Amos signaled the brief rest period had come to an end. It was time to brave the weather again.

  He saw some of the determination fade from Delsie’s face as he helped her back into the saddle. She made a move to return his jacket to him, but he shook his head. “You keep it for now.”

  She rewarded him with a tiny smile before turning her mare around. Back in the saddle, Myles let Amos take the lead this time. The rain soon had him and Moses lowering their heads in a vain attempt to avoid the sheets of water. The only parts of him not wet were the patch of hair beneath his hat and the spot on his shirt where Elijah roosted.

  They plodded on, alternating the horses between a walk and a trot. A shiver cut through Myles. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this drenched. He looked beside him at Delsie, but she wasn’t there. Twisting in the saddle, he saw she’d fallen behind. In the driving rain, he hadn’t noticed. A prick of alarm raced through Myles as he turned Moses around.

  “Delsie,” he called as another crack of thunder filled the air. She jerked in the saddle, making her mare dance to the side. Her hands were pale where they held the reins. “What happened? Are you all right?”

  Her chin dipped, but Myles could see it was quivering from her chattering teeth. She had no color to her face, either. “J-just c-cold. But I’ll b-be all right.”

  Myles couldn’t argue about the cold. “Can you keep up?”

  She gave another wordless nod. But he couldn’t shake his concern that she wasn’t all right. He coaxed Moses to quicken the pace and was relieved when Delsie did the same with her mare.

  After that Myles lost count of how far they’d gone or how much time had passed. The rain was the only constant across the waterlogged prairie. Amos didn’t signal for them to stop again, so Myles kept Moses moving, although he let the animal set its own pace now and then.

  Sometime later a sudden sting
against his hand had him lifting his gaze to the sky. The rain was fast becoming pea-sized hail. Moses whinnied in protest and Myles fought the urge to do the same. No wonder the sky had looked ominous before. He hunched his shoulders, bringing Elijah to rest against his neck, to avoid some of the hailstones. Ahead Amos was doing the same, though he kept right on setting a steady pace for all three of them.

  Myles glanced to his left, expecting to see Delsie there as she’d been the past while. All he saw, though, was open prairie and leaping icy stones as they struck the ground. She’d fallen behind him again.

  He craned his head to see her. Her horse plodded along at least a hundred yards back. But it was the unnatural bounce of its rider that resurrected Myles’s earlier fear.

  Jerking Moses around, he hollered at Amos, then galloped back to Delsie. She appeared to be dozing, despite the hail, her arms no longer holding the reins but folded inside his jacket. Her entire body appeared to shake with the cold. He reached for her reins and stopped her mare. Only then did Delsie startle awake.

  “Ar-are we there?” she rasped out from lips Myles thought looked more blue than white now.

  “No. But you’re riding with me.” He passed the reins to Amos, who’d ridden up beside them. “I think she’s too cold,” he told the older man in a low voice. “I don’t want her freezing to death.”

  The raw concern in Amos’s blue-gray eyes mirrored the emotion tightening his own lungs. “I’ll tie her horse to mine,” Amos offered.

  Myles passed him the reins, then he scooped Delsie off her saddle and onto his own. After removing his jacket from around her shoulders, he draped it around them both, cocooning her as best he could within its warmth. She settled back against his chest, her entire body trembling with cold, as Elijah readjusted his perch on Myles’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her waist, gripping the reins with his free hand.

  “Let’s go, Moses,” he urged, prodding the animal forward.

  By now the hail had ceased, replaced by the steady rain once more. At least that was something to be grateful for, Myles thought wryly. He glanced down at Delsie, but all he could see was the top of her hat.