To Kiss a Texan

by Jodi Thomas

  She made it to the cave and ran silently through the passages she’d learned by heart. Ten turns, ten choices. If she made any one wrong, she might never find her way out of the tunnels.

  As the day passed, she heard men moving in the cave, yelling for one another. She hid on a ledge out of sight with a knife in her hand. But they never reached her hiding place. Finally, all was silent and she slept.

  When she awoke, it was the afternoon of the next day. She was alone. The winter camp had been burned and scattered in the wind. No one remained.

  ‘‘Allie?’’

  Someone pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up as Nichole slowly lowered herself down the few steps.

  ‘‘I brought you these leather boots. They may be a little big, but thick socks will help them fit.’’ Nichole handed her a fine pair of leather footwear that seemed an odd mixture between a boot and a moccasin.

  Allie accepted the gift with a nod.

  Nichole flipped over the top of one of the boots and slipped a knife from the leather at the calf. ‘‘I found them to be very good boots during the war when I was on the run. This might come in handy for you sometime.’’

  Allie met her gaze. Silently, she thanked her for the weapon. The boots seemed a great gift, but the hidden weapon was priceless.

  ‘‘I don’t understand,’’ Adam said as he followed Wes to the horses. ‘‘Why are you taking her with you? We talked about it last night. She’d be safe with us.’’

  Winking at Allie, Wes explained, ‘‘She told me she wanted to go. We had a long talk last night.’’

  ‘‘Are you sure?’’ Adam seemed worried. ‘‘You’re not fully recovered.’’

  Wes crossed between the horses, nodding his good morning to Daniel. He checked the cinch and stretched out his hand. Allie joined him, allowing him to lift her into the saddle and adjust the stirrups to her leg length.

  ‘‘Thanks for finding the fresh mounts, Dan,’’ Wes said as he worked. ‘‘You got most of Papa’s sense about horses.’’

  Wes didn’t look at his younger brother, or expect him to answer. Daniel had a way of never having anything to say when emotions ran high in him.

  Adam was another story. He paced restlessly just as he had every time Wes had ridden off to battle during the war.

  ‘‘Stop acting like I’m kidnapping the woman again.’’ Wes grumbled at the doctor. ‘‘She wants to go with me. Since she’s my wife right now, there is no reason she shouldn’t.’’

  ‘‘I thought the priority here was finding her family, not looking for a ghost treasure.’’

  Wes frowned. ‘‘It is. But we have no leads on her people. I can’t just sit around and wait. You know if I had a direction to go, finding her family would be first. But, until then, I have to do something.’’

  Adam nodded his understanding of his wandering brother and moved to the other side of Allie’s bay horse. He looked up at her as he touched her knee. ‘‘Take care of him, will you, Allie? He has a way of finding trouble.’’

  Allie didn’t answer.

  ‘‘We’re wasting daylight!’’ Wes swung into the saddle and kicked his horse into action.

  Allie took one last look at the crazy people who’d been so kind to her, and reined her horse half quarter. She felt sure Nichole would be starving on the streets by the time she saw her again at the rate the woman gave away her clothes and food. As for the doctor, he seemed no less giving. He was a healer who didn’t know his own power. And the big one they called ‘‘little’’ brother wore his heart reflected in his eyes.

  Wes’s brothers waved and Allie saw Wes give them a quick salute.

  ‘‘Keep an angel on your shoulder,’’ Daniel yelled suddenly.

  ‘‘And your fist drawn,’’ Adam added.

  ‘‘Until my brother is there to cover my back,’’ Wes finished as he kicked up dust.

  She rode beside Wes away from town thinking of how hard she’d worked to get each of her possessions that were still hidden in the cave. She’d had to make ten of anything before she’d be allowed to keep one. And that one always had to look poorly done or someone would take it from her. In the tribe, everything she made belonged to the old woman.

  But, slowly, she’d collected bits of clothing and furs. Once she was alone, no one stole her things. If Wes knew what a wealth she had in pelts, he’d think her a fine wife. Maybe.

  All day, she thought of telling him as they rode south. Wes only slowed long enough to water the horses and hand her a bite to eat from a food pouch. He said little.

  By nightfall Allie’s bones were so tired she slid from the saddle when Wes finally stopped the horses.

  He caught her and carried her to the stream’s edge. Wrapping her in both blankets, he watered and brushed the horses and built a fire without her help. He took the time to boil coffee and make flat bread out of the flour mixture from his pack. When he served her supper, it looked like a feast.

  Allie ate all he handed her and drank the warm brown liquid in her cup. It tasted terrible, but she could feel the warmth running through her body all the way to her toes.

  ‘‘I’ve pushed you too hard,’’ he finally said as he watched her from a few feet away. ‘‘Why didn’t you say something?’’

  ‘‘Never mind,’’ he answered his own question. ‘‘I know why. You’re afraid I’d leave you somewhere along the trail if you complained.’’

  Again, she didn’t answer. She didn’t see the need.

  ‘‘I’m not going to do that, Allie. I’ve nothing to offer you but my word.’’ He leaned back against a tree trunk. ‘‘Somewhere you have people, your people. I’ll help you find them.’’ He studied her closely. ‘‘Do you remember anything?’’

  Allie shook her head. She remembered the boy in the field telling her to have a plan. She remembered her mother’s body in a pile of bodies. But they were dead. They could be of no help.

  ‘‘Somewhere you’ve got someone worried about you.’’ Wes yawned and set down his coffee cup. ‘‘I can feel it.’’ His eyes closed in sleep.

  Allie stood slowly with the blankets wrapped around her and moved to his side. She cuddled beneath his arm and spread the quilts over them both.

  I have you here, she thought, relaxing next to him. He was as close to family as she needed. Slowly, an inch at a time, she was learning to trust him.

  Just before sleep drifted over her, a twig snapped.

  Allie didn’t move.

  Another snapped.

  She stretched her hand to her boot and pulled out the knife.

  A dark form slipped from one cottonwood to the other in the shadows by the water. The few remaining brown leaves on the trees seemed to smear his outline, concealing him as the wind shifted.

  Straightening, she stiffened every muscle in preparation.

  The intruder drew closer, shifting from trunk to bush as silently as moss spreading. With each passing moment, darkness played into his hand as the fire burned lower and the last rays of daylight faded.

  Panic pumped through Allie. Should she wake Wes? Defend them both? Or run? If she made any sudden moves, the man would be aware she knew of his arrival. If he carried a gun, they’d both be dead before Wes could fire a shot.

  Allie stood slowly as if wanting to warm herself by the fire. She circled until the smoke and flames danced between the intruder and her. In a blink, she was gone, vanishing into the blackness as if melting into the scenery.

  Silently, she crossed between the trees. Watching every movement. Listening to the slightest sound. She could feel the man’s presence though she couldn’t see him. She could sense his nearness, layered in danger. The cold breeze against her face barely registered. She lifted her bothersome skirt above her knees and bunched it in one hand. Ignoring the brush scratches against her legs, she slipped through the night toward the stranger.

  Crossing the undergrowth without a sound, Allie watched as the shadow advanced toward the spot where Wes slept.

  Wes didn
’t move. He had no idea of the danger he was in.

  Allie circled behind the intruder and began to close the distance to his back. Raising the knife, she filled her lungs with air so that all her strength could go to the kill.

  Just as the shadow stepped into the glow of firelight, Wes rolled to his knee, raising a Colt to point directly at the man. Allie lunged forward, her knife poised.

  ‘‘Wes?’’ the stranger managed to say a fraction of a second before Allie hit him from behind.

  Her skirts tripped her final step toward him, sending her plummeting at him without control. The knife struck his back, but the blade was not true. It veered off his leather coat without penetrating.

  The stranger stumbled forward as her body pounded against his.

  Wes fired as they tumbled. Allie felt the bullet pass close enough to move her hair.

  The stranger hit the ground with a thud. She landed square on top of him, pushing the air from his lungs.

  With all her strength, she pulled away from him and raised the knife for another try. But Wes’s sudden movements startled her.

  ‘‘Allie! No!’’ he yelled.

  She held the knife with both hands high in the air, ready to plunge.

  ‘‘Allie!’’ he yelled again. ‘‘Stop!’’

  The man didn’t stir beneath her. If he had, she might not have listened to Wes’s words. Survival was so strong within her, it was hard to stop and listen to anyone.

  Slowly she climbed off the stranger, keeping her knife ready.

  ‘‘Allie,’’ Wes said more calmly. ‘‘He’s a friend.’’

  Without taking her eyes off the intruder, she backed toward Wes. When she was safe at his side, she lowered the knife, but didn’t return it to the hiding place in her boot.

  ‘‘Vincent?’’ Wes moved in front of her. ‘‘Vince? I thought you were dead.’’

  ‘‘Darn near made me so,’’ Vince Edward grumbled as he stood and wiped the dirt off a hopelessly filthy pair of pants. ‘‘I came in slow to make sure you were alone. I never figured both you and this woman would try to kill me. A knife in the back and a bullet through the heart, nice reception.’’

  Wes replaced his Colt in the holster. ‘‘You don’t appear to be bleeding with that complaining, so no harm done. You should know better than to sneak up on a fire after dark.’’

  ‘‘I don’t know anything anymore. I thought I was safe riding watch before the stampede, but three men tried to kill me.’’ He limped closer to the fire. ‘‘They thought they had when they searched my body and took all my gear. But I was still breathing and, thanks to the stampede, they didn’t have time to finish the job.’’

  ‘‘But I looked everywhere for you.’’ Wes joined him. ‘‘I wouldn’t think a wrangler as homely as you would be hard to find.’’

  Allie stared closely at the tall stranger. He was built wide in the shoulders and stood as tall as Wes. He looked like he’d been on the trail for several days, but even with the covering of dirt, she’d guess him a handsome man. Wes must truly be his friend to be able to call him homely to his face and the man not take offense at the lie.

  ‘‘I was hurting bad after they took turns beating me. They planned to kill me without a sound, but the fight I put up stirred the cattle nearby.’’ Vince rubbed his leg as if he could rub away the pain. ‘‘While they were trying to quiet their mounts and stay out of the way of a few hundred longhorns, I followed my grandfather’s plan of escape and hit the river. By dawn, I was miles south with a knife wound in my right leg that still gives me trouble.’’

  He looked toward Allie. ‘‘Before I tell you more, don’t you think you should introduce me to your bodyguard?’’

  Wes pointed with his head. ‘‘Vincent Edward, I’d like you to meet Allie. Allie, this is the friend who gave me the map for safekeeping.’’

  Vince raised an eyebrow, waiting for more of an introduction, but Wes didn’t offer one and it would have been impolite to ask more. He tipped his hat to the woman who’d tried to kill him. ‘‘Nice to meet you.’’

  Allie backed away.

  ‘‘She doesn’t talk much,’’ Wes answered for her. ‘‘I’m helping her find her family.’’

  Vince straightened suddenly. ‘‘I almost forgot. When I missed you at your brother’s by a few hours, he handed me a letter to bring you.’’ Vince disappeared into the darkness, then reappeared, pulling his horse.

  He flipped the cover on his saddlebag and handed Wes an envelope. ‘‘Adam said this was one strange letter and maybe you should take a look at it before you head toward your treasure at Goliad.’’

  Wes turned the brown envelope over in his hand then leaned down to his saddlebags resting by the tree. ‘‘I need to give you back the map. Now that you’re alive, it’s no longer my treasure.’’

  Vince raised his hands, unwilling to even touch it. ‘‘No, thanks.’’ He backed away. ‘‘That treasure has caused me enough trouble. I promised myself that as soon as I found you, I was heading home. The map is all yours.’’

  Wes opened his mouth to argue, but Vince cut him off. ‘‘Someone out there is still willing to kill for that map. If you’re wise, you’ll forget it, too. I’ve got a wife and kids waiting for me. I’ll count my blessings if I get out of this treasure hunt with only a limp.’’

  ‘‘But your grandfather—’’

  ‘‘He died eaten up with a fever to find it. The fever cost him his son’s life and almost mine. I told myself when I was floating down the Red River that night with my own blood coloring the water, that if I lived, I’d never touch that damn map again.’’

  ‘‘If I find something, I’ll mail you half,’’ Wes offered.

  ‘‘No, thanks. I want no part of it.’’ Vince turned and began unsaddling his horse as Wes put the map away. ‘‘I’ll bed down at your fire tonight, then I’m heading home tomorrow. I’ve been following you for three weeks. Wanted to let you know I was alive.’’

  Wes moved the pot near the fire to warm the brew, then sat down close to the flames to read the letter Vince had brought him from Adam.

  Vince talked as he unloaded. ‘‘By the way, I found out you’re not engaged to the Montago girl anymore. She wouldn’t even see me. ’Course, her sister had plenty to say.’’ Vince glanced at Allie as if the pieces he’d heard about Wes’s activities were starting to fit together. But Vince wasn’t the kind of man to ask or repeat gossip, no matter how interesting it might have been.

  ‘‘Angela Montago wasn’t interested in a rancher without cattle,’’ Wes answered as he examined the letter. ‘‘I didn’t have time to tell her about the map and how I might have enough money soon to buy at least a starter herd. All she saw was a no-good ranch with only a dugout to live in.’’

  ‘‘Picky woman.’’ Vince laughed as he poured himself a cup of coffee. ‘‘No matter how beautiful a lady is, if she doesn’t have time to listen to a man’s dreams, she starts uglying up.’’ The letter drew his interest as he relaxed with his cup in hand.

  Scribbled on the side of the envelope in Adam’s scratching was a note saying, ‘‘Thought you needed to see this as soon as possible.’’

  Wes unfolded the letter inside. The handwriting was worse than Adam’s. Some words were large, some small, as if the author of the note was just learning to write or forgetting how.

  ‘‘What’s it say?’’ Vince never was long on patience.

  Wes read: ‘‘Girl, born 1847, captured 1852. Name: Allyce Catlin. Called Allie. Parents and siblings died in attack. Only known relative: grandmother, Victoria Catlin. She was part of the original Austin colony. Last known address: near Brady, Texas.’’ Wes took a deep breath. ‘‘It’s signed Sheriff Maxwell Hardy, retired.’’

  ‘‘You think that could be your Allie’s kin?’’

  Wes didn’t want to sound hopeful. ‘‘Could be, but we’ve been down a few dead ends already. At least this comes from a sheriff. The dates sound about right, and the name fits.’’

 
Vince leaned back and studied his friend closely. ‘‘Come morning, I’m heading north to home. Do you go to Brady or Goliad?’’

  Wes looked at Allie. She was doing her best to pretend to be asleep, but he had no doubt she heard every word they’d been saying. ‘‘Brady,’’ he finally whispered. ‘‘We’ll head to Brady and hope this Sheriff Hardy is right. It’s on my way anyway.’’

  Vince lowered his hat over his eyes. ‘‘We’ve both got a long ride tomorrow.’’

  Wes returned to the tree and sat down beside Allie. ‘‘A long day.’’ He leaned back and closed his eyes, smiling as she spread the blankets over them both.

  Hours later, Wes rolled awake just before dawn. The air hung still with new birth and the fire burned low in dying warmth. He glanced around, sensing something was missing even before he could reason what.

  Vince slept soundly on the other side of the fire. Two horses moved by the water’s edge. Two horses! The bay was missing.

  Allie was gone.

  ELEVEN

  ALLIE SLID FROM HER HORSE AND HELD THE REINS with one hand and her skirt with the other as she crossed the shallow stream. The bay protested as they splashed through the cold water, but Allie didn’t slow her march. She doubted Wes would follow her long. He’d probably be glad she was gone so that he could get on with his search for the Goliad treasure. She only slowed him down. He’d helped her along the way, and now she kept him from doing what he wanted to do.He’d saved her from the cage, and she’d paid him back by taking him to his brother. They were even—if she didn’t count the bay she’d taken with her.

  But horses weren’t all that valuable, she reminded herself. There were wild ones Wes could catch as a replacement.

  And—if she didn’t count the saddle, she thought.

  Saddles were several times more valuable than a horse. Wes would probably be mad about the saddle. But there was no way she could send it back. If she’d thought before she left, she would have ridden out bareback.