The Pony Express Romance Collection

by Blakey, Barbara Tifft; Davis, Mary; Franklin, Darlene

  He straightened. “Have you checked the bunkhouse porch? She’s usually there.”

  “Yes. Mr. Fox is gone as well.”

  “I seen him head across the crick with his drawing book.”

  “Maybe she went with him.”

  “Let me bank this fire, and I’ll take you.”

  “I don’t want to trouble you. I know riders and horses are counting on you. I’m sure I can find him. Thank you.” She hurried off toward the creek.

  He called after her. “Keep a lookout for rattlers!”

  She waved her hand over her head to let him know she’d heard him. She knew to make noise to scare them away. The men had reminded her and Molly enough. She picked up two stones and clacked them together.

  She followed the path to the creek. Large flat-topped rocks placed at footstep intervals transected the slow-moving water. She leaped from rock to rock. The low level meant they were dry and she could find sure footing.

  The last steppingstone was a longer stretch than all the other steps. All the steps were designed for the men’s longer stride. No one had thought there would be a woman at this station. How had Molly made this leap? Obviously she’d had help from Mr. Fox. But he usually asked before taking Molly off the station’s grounds.

  BethAnn took a deep breath, shifted her weight back, and then leaped forward. She got a foot and a knee on the sandy bank. She caught hold of a clump of thin prairie grass with one hand and clawed the fingers of the other into the loose ground.

  Gravity pulled backward on her body.

  She was going to land in the cold creek and probably whack her spine on the steppingstone.

  If she could only shift her weight a little more forward.

  The roots of the grass clump loosened, giving up their hold in the sandy ground. As they gave way and she slid, a strong hand latched onto her wrist and kept her from getting drenched.

  She gazed up into green eyes.

  Mr. Fox had his heels dug into the ground and was leaning his weight opposite hers. He stretched out his other hand for her to grasp.

  Could he truly hold her? He couldn’t weigh much more than her. But he did have the advantage of his mass leaning backward.

  With a deep breath, she released her tenuous hold on the ground and clasped his hand.

  The state of her being was literally in his hands.

  As he heaved her forward to pull her to safety, his heels slid along the ground.

  She lunged, taking advantage of the momentum he’d created. One foot slipped into the cold stream but, with a thrust off the creek bottom, gave her the extra push she needed to make it up onto the dry bank. She landed in a heap half on top of him. “Th—thank you.”

  “N—no problem.”

  She should move, but he still held on to one hand and her wrist. And her body wouldn’t obey her brain’s order to move.

  Fox barely dared to breathe. He had never imagined having BethAnn so close to him. Her pulse raced under his thumb where it pressed against her wrist. Just nerves from almost ending up in the creek. That was all. But his own galloping heart had everything to do with her nearness. Good thing he’d heard her coming, or she would’ve ended up all wet.

  He didn’t want to disturb this moment, but knew he must. “Let me help you up.”

  “All right.” But she didn’t move.

  Neither did he. He couldn’t very well help her lying on his back. He released his hold on her hand and wrist. That was why she hadn’t tried to get up. He had been holding her captive.

  “Oh.” She shifted off the one arm of his pinned under her.

  He scrambled to his feet and held out his hands to her. She took them, and he pulled her up. Again, she was far closer to him than he’d ever dreamed. He stayed there a moment longer, holding her hands. This was nice.

  Shaking off his foolish thoughts, he forced his mind back to the matter at hand. Why had she come? He pointed to the building dark clouds. “Storm’s coming.” The wind had kicked up. He needed to get her back to the station before it rained.

  “I can see that.”

  “The creek will rise.”

  “I don’t care about the creek. I’m looking for Molly. Is she with you?”

  “No.”

  “I can’t find her anywhere. I thought she might have come with you to draw. She’s really quite taken with you.”

  He’d come out here alone to keep the girl away from him. “She’s not with me.” He hesitated. “I might have said something to upset her.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I told her she was too young for me, and I didn’t feel the same way she did.” He waited for BethAnn to scold him.

  “Too young? I figured she was smitten with you, but I didn’t know her feelings had developed that far.” She didn’t scold him.

  He wished BethAnn was the one smitten with him. But the girl’s disappearance was his fault and finding her, his responsibility. “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “She was sitting with you on the bunkhouse porch.”

  Horsefeathers. It was his fault. “When she ran off, she headed toward the main station building. I’ll help you find her.” He grabbed his messenger bag from where he’d tossed it when he saw BethAnn in trouble and slung the strap over his head.

  He jumped to the first rock and looked back.

  BethAnn’s lowered eyebrows and worried expression told him she dreaded traversing the creek again.

  Putting one foot on the next rock to straddle the two, he stretched out his arm. “Grab hold of my hand when you jump.”

  Would she jum—?

  She leaped, gripping his hand.

  He pulled her toward him to keep her from tumbling backward.

  Her face was inches from his. For the third time.

  Focus on the task at hand and not her nearness. “You got your footing?”

  “I think so.” She tried to pull her hand free.

  He held tight and gave a little squeeze. “I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.” He took one rock at a time and led her across. Once on the other bank, he reluctantly released her hand.

  By the time they reached the station, the storm clouds had gathered in earnest overhead, and the wind yanked at his clothes. He dumped his bag in the bunkhouse, grabbed his canvas duster, and told Wayne what was up. Normally, Fox would help corral and stable the horses to keep them safe in the storm, but the stationmaster granted him permission to search for the girl. He sent some of the men in different directions to look for her while the others tended to the horses.

  Fox turned to BethAnn. “Stay here in case she shows up.”

  She shook her head. “I’m going with you. She’s my sister.”

  He was tempted to argue with her, but he liked the idea of having her with him. “All right. Wear this.” He draped his black canvas duster around her shoulders. “I know it’s warm now, but it’ll keep you dry when it starts raining.” He headed off along the canyon road.

  “Why this direction?”

  “I showed her a place where I like to sketch. She might have gone there.”

  BethAnn nodded and marched in step with him.

  A crack of thunder rumbled across the sky. An occasional huge raindrop splatted on the thirsty ground in front of him, then on him. He removed his hat and plopped it on BethAnn’s head.

  She adjusted the hat to sit a little more back on her head. “You’ll get wet.”

  He liked his hat on her and ruffled his red mop of unruly hair. It needed to be cut. “I’ll be fine.” He caught a glimpse of yellow fabric and pointed. “There she is.”

  BethAnn ran and threw her arms around her sister.

  Molly clutched her tight. “I forgot how to get back.”

  BethAnn wrapped one side of the duster around the girl. “You’re safe now.”

  Molly eyed Fox, seemingly embarrassed for her earlier actions.

  He would not mention it. “This way.” He continued on the path they had been traveling.


  “Where are you going?” BethAnn’s voice had a sweet lilt to it.

  He pointed. “There’s an overhang up here. We can wait out the storm and stay dry.” The clouds still released only the occasional large drop. A person could almost dodge them.

  BethAnn glanced back in the direction of the station, though it wasn’t visible from where they were. Clearly, she wished to return to the safety of the buildings.

  Though he would do what she wanted, they would all be drenched by then. Maybe they could stretch the duster over them to keep dry.

  BethAnn nodded and marched the way he’d indicated.

  The outcropping was almost a cave, and the northerly wind would send the rain away from the opening.

  He took Molly’s hand first and helped her up the side of the sloping canyon wall, then BethAnn’s. He didn’t want to let hers go.

  The sisters stood under the eave of the rock, looking a bit uncertain.

  Lightning flashed, momentarily illuminating the inside of the cave and the pair standing within. A few seconds later, a loud crash of thunder boomed and rolled at length across the sky.

  He ducked and hurried to join them under the overhang. “You should sit. It might be a while.” He hoped for a quick rain shower. But if it came down hard for an extended period, it was good that they were on higher ground.

  Molly ducked out from under the coat and sat, keeping her gaze averted from him.

  He didn’t know what to do to alleviate her discomfort. So he tried his best to pretend the tension didn’t exist.

  BethAnn removed his duster and sat next to her sister, then draped the coat over them both like a blanket.

  He sat a foot or so away from BethAnn, closest to the opening.

  She held up the edge of his coat. “You look cold. We can all fit.” She had her arm around Molly.

  Though he had gotten wet, he would be fine, but accepting the offer would allow him to be closer to her. He scooted over.

  The rain came down in earnest.

  A moment later, two Shoshone hunters ducked into the cave. They froze for a moment when they saw him and the women.

  BethAnn gasped.

  Fox gave a nod to the hunters. They likely just wanted to get out of the rain as he and the sisters did.

  As the braves settled across the cave and near the entrance, Fox slipped his revolver from its holster and rested it on his thigh under the duster. Just in case.

  BethAnn leaned close and whispered in his ear. “What do they want?”

  “Same as us. To get out of the rain.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Not completely. “Yes.”

  After about fifteen minutes, the rain let up some.

  The braves rose and gave him a nod before heading out of the cave into the light rain.

  BethAnn relaxed next to him. “Should we leave as well?”

  “Not yet. We’ll wait until it stops completely.” He wanted to see what the rain was going to do first. If this was just a brief lull, he would rather keep the girls dry.

  He would like to stay this way forever, if it weren’t for two things. He needed to get the girls back to the safety of the station. And the uncomfortable, uneven, hard ground beneath him.

  BethAnn tilted her face up toward him. “I think she’s asleep. Thank you for finding her.”

  “I’m happy to help in any way I can.” In any way she would allow him to. “And I feel partly responsible.”

  “You’re not.”

  She continued gazing at him as he did her.

  The desire to kiss her drew him closer.

  She didn’t back away.

  Closer.

  Would she allow him?

  Closer.

  A boom of thunder shook the ground and caused all three of them to jump. Molly huddled into BethAnn’s side.

  The moment had passed.

  With another cloudburst, the rain came down in a torrent.

  Chapter Five

  BethAnn wiped the back of her wrist across her forehead. Even with the door and the window open, the kitchen felt like she was in the oven.

  Men’s voices from out front filtered back to the kitchen.

  Maybe one of them was Mr. Fox. As she headed through the dining room to the main entry where Mr. Greenberg had his desk, she realized that one of the voices was Mr. Fox. She smoothed back her hair and ran her hands down her skirt. She hoped she didn’t look too disheveled.

  She saw Mr. Fox first and smiled. He stood off the porch talking to a well-dressed man whose back was to the building and therefore BethAnn. Even so, she recognized him and froze. There was no mistaking that man. Vince Hall. Quickly stepping backward, she shook her head to Mr. Fox.

  She hurried to her room and pulled her carpetbag out from under the bed. How had Mr. Hall found her? She had become too complacent here. Why had she ever thought she would be safe at this station from that man? Would she ever be safe anywhere?

  Molly. She had to find Molly. Her sister had been in the garden. Please don’t let her come around to the front.

  She rummaged in the bottom of the bag and found the derringer Mrs. Calabretta had given her. The lovely older lady had known she would need it at some point. She cracked open the door. Mr. Fox and Mr. Hall stood inside along with Mr. Greenberg and Rusty.

  Trapped.

  Vince Hall stood like he owned the place. “You see, Miss White is my cousin. The family’s worried about her. I heard she was here. Cooking.”

  She was not his cousin.

  Mr. Fox spoke quickly. “She was. She’s gone now.”

  The stationmaster eyed the rider but didn’t give BethAnn away.

  “Do you know where she was heading?”

  BethAnn didn’t wait for the answer. She eased the door back closed then slipped the pistol into her skirt pocket. She went to the window. Even though she opened it slowly, it still creaked a little. She slipped one leg through, then the other, and dropped the short distance to the ground. Hurrying to the garden, she glanced around, hoping no one saw her. The men at the station had a tendency to call out a greeting and wave.

  She opened the gate and whispered. “Molly?”

  Her sister wasn’t there. She must have taken the vegetables into the kitchen.

  BethAnn hoped her sister stayed out of sight. If Mr. Hall caught even a glimpse of her…

  As she headed for the open kitchen door, Vince Hall came around the corner of the building. When he caught sight of her, a sly smile twisted his narrow face. “Did you really think you could back out on your contract?”

  She fumbled in the folds of her skirt and retrieved the derringer. “Don’t move—no—put your hands up.”

  His arms shot up. “Whoa. There is no need for that, darling.”

  She shivered in disgust at the endearment. She would never be his darling. “I’m not going with you, so just leave.”

  “You signed a contract. You belong to me.”

  He’d taken advantage of her vulnerable state. “I didn’t know what I was doing.” She’d been fighting for the lives of her parents and all three of her sisters.

  “Whether you knew or not, I have your signature.”

  “I have some money. I’ll get the rest. I promise.”

  He sneered. “Unless you have it all, you’ll be coming with me, per the terms of your contract.”

  Why had she stayed here? She should have gotten as far away from him as she could.

  Molly stepped out of the kitchen doorway. “BethAnn—”

  No! “Run, Molly!”

  Mr. Hall grabbed her sister and drew his gun at the same time. “Looks like you’ll be coming with me after all. Now put that toy away.”

  BethAnn froze. What alternative did she have?

  Molly’s eyes widened with fear.

  Mr. Hall narrowed his. “Put it down now. You don’t want me to hurt your only living sister, do you? Unless I take her in your place. She is a pretty little thing.”

  BethAnn shook her head. “Leave her
alone.” But realizing she had no choice, she opened her hand to allow the pistol to drop but stopped.

  Mr. Hall no longer glared at her. He held his gun out and pointing up to show he wasn’t going to use it.

  She didn’t know why, then heard a low growling voice from behind him. “I said, let the girl go.”

  Fox jammed his Smith & Wesson’s barrel harder into the man’s back. “Now!”

  The trespasser released Molly, who ran into her big sister’s open arms.

  BethAnn patted her little sister’s back. “You’re safe now.”

  While keeping his revolver pressed to the stranger’s back, Fox relieved the man of his weapon.

  Wayne stepped up next to Fox with a rifle in his hands.

  Fox tilted his head toward the building. “Go with Rusty.”

  BethAnn looked startled to see the blacksmith but took her sister and ran. Rusty also held a rifle. The trio disappeared around the corner.

  “I’ll find you wherever you go!” Hall called after her.

  She would be safe with Rusty, though Fox wished he were the one with BethAnn and Molly. But it was right for her to be with Rusty. She clearly favored the blacksmith.

  Wayne moved in front of the scoundrel. “You will leave my way station and never come back. Is that clear?”

  Hall huffed out a breath and spoke through gritted teeth. “Yes. Can I have my gun back?”

  With Wayne’s rifle on the man, Fox tucked his Smith & Wesson into the back of his trousers. Etchings all over Hall’s revolver, from the handle to the tip of the barrel, showed it was as much for show as for use. Fox emptied the bullets from the chamber onto the ground. Thud. Thud. Clink. Thud. Clink. Clink.

  Hall spoke through gritted teeth. “Bullets cost money.”

  Fox pressed the fancy revolver flat against Hall’s abdomen. “You are welcome to pick them up out of the dirt. If you’re certain the stationmaster won’t mistake your actions for trying to pull something and shoot you.”

  The man yanked his gun from Fox’s hand and, snarling, shoved it into the holster. He stormed off around the building with Fox and Wayne on his heels. He swung up onto his horse and galloped off.

  Fox watched until the man disappeared from sight. “Do you think he’ll heed our warnings?”