Always, Ransom (Three Rivers Express Book 1)

by Reina Torres

  “Even looking a mess like I do?”

  He heard the worry in her voice, heard the hope in her voice as well.

  “I don’t see a mess.” He drew his hand back, less than an inch, felt the soft cotton under his fingertips. “I see you.”

  She moved, a quick grab for her skirt, twisting the fabric in her hands.

  He drew back, concerned that he'd done something amiss, but his eyes were drawn to the uneven edge of her hem. If it had been a simple gap of stitches he probably wouldn't have noticed, but part of her dress was charred, burnt into a ragged edge.

  “What happened?”

  She heard something in his tone that had her step back, her eyes dart away from his questioning glance. “It's fine.”

  “Delia, please.” He heard the tension in his voice, and he focused on the wary look in her eyes. “I need to know. What happened?”

  Resignation was clear in her eyes and took his hand to draw him closer, darting a quick look at the door. “Last night. After I came home, I saw something in the lean-to, a shadow perhaps? It must have been a trick of my eye, I was so very tired after I returned home.” Her hand tightened around his hand, but he said nothing about it. He was happy to have her touch on his skin. “I thought I saw a flare of light, as if someone lit the wick.” Her voice had almost disappeared as she finished her words but flared to life again with a cough of nervous laughter. “But that’s impossible. I hate to think that Papa had left the lamp when he came inside last night.” Her eyes looked up into his and he read her worry in the darkening irises and the way she nibbled on her lip, plumping it a bit. “I dashed out and put out the flames. There was no danger for the horses,” she put great emphasis on the words, “more to myself, being nervous as I was, I let my hem catch with the flames. But I’ll find a way to fix the skirt.” She took in a quick gasp of air. “But the horses, I couldn’t have lived with myself if something-”

  “Delia.” She was in real danger of working herself up into a faint and while he found it no chore to say her name, he was more than happy to distract her for a moment.

  “And I don’t think anyone else has to know-”

  “Delia,” he touched the tip of his pointer finger to her lips.

  “But-”

  “Shhh,” he turned his hand and touched the pad of his thumb, bringing both lips to a stop.

  He looked down into her eyes and saw that he had her full attention.

  “I’ll have to tell Levi, Delia. I couldn’t keep this kind of a secret, but-” he kept the littlest bit of tension of his thumb against her lips, but her movement brushed her lips against his skin, making his breath just a little harder to pull into his lungs, “I think you worry too much. The horses are fine. You were quick and managed to put out the fire. Levi won’t hold it against you. Especially because,” he started to move his thumb, but the gaze in his eyes made it very clear that he wasn’t doing it just so she could run wild again, “he doesn’t just trust your father, Delia. He trusts you too. And I think you were right. There may have been someone in your lean-to. I’m beginning to see the trouble that’s starting here and it’s not just your station, sweetheart. There are others that have reported-”

  He stopped short when he felt her fingertip touch his lips. Ransom looked down and crooked an eyebrow up when he saw what she’d done.

  “Ransom?”

  “Don’t distract me, Delia.” He grinned at her bemused expression. “Other stations have reported some harassment from figures in the darkness and-”

  Again, she stopped his words and when he looked at her, he saw the delicate thumb that she’d set on his lips, holding them gently together. “Ransom? I have to ask you something.”

  He took a moment and then nodded.

  Instead of lowering her hand to her side, she turned her hand and managed to brush the soft skin of her palm along his jaw. “Did you mean it?”

  He wasn’t sure what she meant, he’d been trying so hard to get her to listen to him that he hadn’t really heard himself. So he shrugged his shoulders and whispered back. “Mean what?” Ransom saw the crestfallen frown on her lips. “You were quite distracting me, sweetheart, and-”

  She brightened he felt the slight scratch of his stubble against her palm.

  “You wanted to know if I meant to call you sweetheart?”

  Her expression was a bit contrite, and if they weren’t inside and he had the benefit of the sun, he was willing to bet that he’d see a warm blush on her cheeks. She nodded.

  “I meant what I said, Delia. I want to court you. I want to marry you when I’ve managed to gain your approval and that of your father. But yes, I’m hoping to call you sweetheart and a number of other endearments if you like the sound of them.”

  “I do,” she blurted out and then turned slightly to the side to avoid his eyes. “I mean, yes, I like the sound of the word, especially from you.”

  He felt a laugh warming his insides. “I hope that doesn’t mean that you hear it from other men?”

  Her look went from shock to laughter. “No, no, sorry,” she moved her hand and the tips of her fingers brushed against the edge of his hair, “you are the only man with the eyesight bad enough to find me the least bit attractive.”

  That’s when her hand stilled. “That is,” she stuttered, “I mean, you haven’t said-”

  “I haven't said how beautiful you are?”

  He watched as she shook her head. “I'm sure it would be vanity to want to hear the words,” she paused before she lifted her eyes to his again, “at least I know my looks don't send you running in the opposite direction.”

  “I wonder how many times your brother said things like that to you.” The sudden downturn of her mouth told him he had stuck the nail on its head. “Too many for you to believe me easily when I tell you that I’m sure that you look like your mother. I would wager that she gave you the smile that brightens the world around you.” He took a hold of her hand, drawing it away from his cheek. “And that you have her hair that glows in the sun and makes me want to reach out and take lengths of it in my hand to see if it feels as lovely as it looks.” He set their joined hands over his heart. “And your eyes are certainly from her. Kindness and joy are easy to see in your eyes, and all I have to do is look at your goodness as a person, your strength of character, and I know that you have those things from your mother.”

  He lifted their other pair of joined hands and set them beside the first until he could tell by her wide-eyes that she could feel the hard rhythm of his heart against her hands.

  “And I think you're beautiful, sweetheart, but more than that, I like who you are and I want to spend as much time as we can together.”

  She didn't answer, not in words. He leaned forward and so did she. He leaned closer to her and she rose up on the soles of her boots and closed her eyes at the same time.

  The door, which had only been half-closed, was suddenly yawning wide open full of light and two very startled people. “Del, Levi and-”

  “Papa.” Delia and Ransom drew back and away from each other.

  Delia nearly stumbled, but Ransom didn't let go. Not yet.

  “Mr. Burroughs,” Ransom hoped his voice sounded strong and resolute, “I had wondered where you had gone.”

  “Oh?” There was a half-cough in his tone. “You were wondering where I had gone, were you?”

  “Papa, please-”

  Both her father and Ransom cut her off.

  “Sir, I-”

  “Young man, really-”

  Levi held up his hands in surrender. “Both of you, take a breath.”

  Frank seemed amenable to the idea, but Ransom was all for forging on ahead. He had a chance and he wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers.

  “Mr. Burroughs, I know we were busy earlier with this business about the Pony Express, sir, but I had meant to talk to you about something else, even before we arrived.”

  “Yes.”

  Delia’s father nodded. And then after a f
ew moments nodded again, his gaze fixed on Ransom’s face. “Well?”

  Ransom was shaken by the quick and succinct answer. “Sir?”

  “Young man?” Frank Burroughs’ gaze narrowed on the young man standing beside his daughter. “You had something to say.”

  “Yes,” Ransom shook himself and looked at Delia before turning back to her father. “I wanted to see Delia again.”

  “After yesterday?”

  Ransom nodded slowly. “Yes, I saw her yesterday and I wanted to see her again.”

  “Then you can see her, just like any other person that comes to visit.” With his darkening tone, his expression seemed to conjure storm clouds where his eyebrows had just been. “But it looks to me like you had a mind on more than seeing my daughter.”

  Ransom felt the floor beneath him buckle and looked at Levi who was just a step behind Delia’s father in the doorway, before focusing on the dire look on Frank Burroughs’ face. “That was not my intention, sir.”

  “Oh,” the older man passed a quizzical expression toward his old friend, “if you weren't intending to kiss my daughter, what was it you were intending to do?”

  Ransom’s heart constricted painfully in his chest. This was quickly becoming a painful mess of his good intentions and the distraction of her beautiful face.

  When he spoke he wasn’t entirely sure what words would come out of his throat, but he had to say something. “Sir, I am not sure exactly what you would-”

  “Perhaps,” Levi offered, his tone light, “he saw a stray eyelash upon her cheek and he was hoping to remove it before it tickled.”

  Delia pulled back slightly at the odd words, but her father’s stern look and the sharp sound he made clearing his throat turned her in his direction.

  “Humph. Don’t think so, Levi, that’s a silly notion.” He took a step closer, narrowing his gaze at Ransom. “Maybe he was going to ask Del if his eyes were blue. Sometimes,” he turned to Levi with a nod, “when I was with my sweetheart, I’d forget my eye color.”

  Levi’s short nod was almost made a mockery by the twist of humor at the corner of his mouth. “You know, I think I might have forgot my own a time or two.”

  Frank shrugged. “Strange how a man, mostly sharp and of a normally sound mind, might lose his senses and memory around a pretty young woman.”

  “That’s not what I was trying to say.”

  Levi set a hand on Frank Burroughs’ shoulder. “I think you should let him speak, Frank. You’re going to give him a headache and then Delia will be cross with us. Let’s not waste more time, hmm?”

  Ransom swept a handkerchief over his forehead and wished that he’d brought his hat inside with him, at least the wide brim would have hidden the beads of sweat that were dotting his face. No one was making this any easier.

  Well, perhaps ‘no one’ was a bit extreme. He felt Delia’s hand on his back and a quick indrawn breath gave him her delicate scent that always seemed to reach his nose when they were in the same room. An herbal scent mixed with a hint of a flower he didn’t know added up to her. And her warmth bled through his shirt to the muscles of his back.

  Lifting his chin and straightening his back, Ransom met her father’s eyes with a solid nod and a strong voice. “I asked Delia if she’d allow me to court her, Mr. Burroughs. And she said yes. I had intended to speak with you when we arrived-”

  “And then you ended up in my house, trying to kiss my daughter,” his lips pinched into a thin line for a moment, “before gaining my permission.”

  “Oh, papa,” Delia had found her voice, “he doesn’t need your permission to do that.”

  Ransom looked at her with a bit of concern. “What are you saying?”

  She gave him a return look that had more than a hint of a smile.

  Lifting the handkerchief again, he pressed it to his neck. “Sir, please, Delia doesn’t understand-”

  He heard her gasp and winced.

  “Delia does so ‘understand.’” And her reassuring hand on his back nearly became a pinch.

  Ahead of them, Frank Burroughs shared a look with Levi and then nodded. “I have to side with my daughter, son. She really does, but I’m afraid I’ve worn you down.”

  Ransom looked to Levi for help, but the older man only gestured right back to Delia. Ransom turned to look at her, infuriating smile and all.

  “You got your words mixed up,” she explained. “You don’t need to ask him permission to kiss me,” she smiled up at him, “I’m the only one to give you that. But if you’d like to ask him permission to court me,” she continued on, “I think he’ll say yes, if only because he knows he’ll be able to pick on you more if you’re courting me.”

  Ransom slid a look over at the two men who were now joking quietly amongst themselves. “So he’ll let me court you because I get flustered around you.”

  She nodded. “My father loves to nag.”

  “Careful, Ransom,” Frank Burroughs sighed, “I’m not an easy man to be around. Del will be the first one to tell you that. If you asked my boys, it wasn’t just the drink that drove them from us, but my incessant need to nag at them and make jokes in turn.” Frank shared a smile with Levi. “Having this young man around may be enough to keep me on my toes and out of the bottle.”

  Levi clapped him on the back and met Ransom’s eyes over the other man’s head. “Then ask, Ransom, before the old grump changes his mind.”

  “Or,” Frank added in, “goes to look for that bottle I have hidden somewhere.”

  Delia’s reflexive grab on the back of his shirt urged him on.

  “I’d like to court your daughter, Mr. Burroughs.” He nodded and then paused. “With your permission, of course.”

  “Well, if I give you my permission,” he nodded thoughtfully, “you’ll be allowed to kiss my daughter when she says you can. But if she decides she doesn’t like it, she’s likely to knock you clear off your horse.”

  “Papa!” Delia’s hand disappeared from his back and when he turned to look at her, he found her with her hands covering her cheeks. Still, he could see the flush of her skin around her hands. “You’ll ruin it before it even starts.”

  Ransom touched her arm and the gentle caress turned her to look into his eyes. “Oh, make no mistake, Delia. It’s already started.”

  Frank sighed loudly. “Then why is my permission needed at all?” Ransom met the older man’s eyes and gave him a little shrug. “All right. You have my permission, young man, just help Delia get some dinner on the table, I’d like to think you’re as hungry as I am and Delia will manage something. Hmm, girl?”

  He heard a little laughter in her tone. “Yes, Papa, at least some sandwiches.”

  Frank shrugged. “Just no kissing before the meal, we still have some business to discuss.”

  The discussion had taken longer than supper and went into the early evening. Delia had made her way through the evening chores and curled up on the settee beside the front window. Later, when she woke up from her nap on the settee, it was to her father’s gruff voice and the scent of coffee on his breath. “If you want to say goodbye to Levi and your beau-”

  She was up on her feet in moments, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she struggled to stand upright beside the settee. Levi offered his apologies for the late hour and his thanks for the last minute meal.

  Ransom mostly stood beside his boss and held his hat in his hands. When he managed to make eye contact with her, the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth were mirrored on hers.

  At the soft chime of the clock, her father stepped closer to her when Levi gave her a smile. “We’ve come up with a temporary solution.”

  Delia nodded, taking her father’s arm to steady herself and giving him a smile before turning back to Levi to listen to him.

  “Your father will ride with Ransom in this direction, they’d meet with the stations and discover what we can do to help secure ourselves from this harassment. And gather more information to correctly identify the criminals who
are wasting our time and money trying to put a stop to the Express. And I’ll ride to the east with Wyeth or Clay and we’ll do the same.”

  Her arms tensing around her father’s, Delia wasn’t surprised when her father brushed a kiss on her cheek and patted her hand with his. “Now, now… don’t worry about the station.”

  She struggled to place a smile on her face. “I’m not, papa, I-”

  “Yes,” he argued back, “you are, and for all the right reasons. Don’t worry, girl.” He gestured to Levi. “We’ll not leave you alone. We’ll send someone out to stay with you and work the station. It shouldn’t take more than a week. And I’m sure,” he chuckled and looked at Levi, “we’re sure that by then, we’ll know what’s what. And we’ll have a way to stop this silliness before it becomes a true problem.”

  Delia nodded, finding courage in the smiles of the men around her. “I’ll be glad to see this trouble behind us and thankful for the help here at the Station. I don’t think I can do it all on my own.”

  Ransom caught her eye then, and she looked up to meet his gaze with a hopeful smile.

  “Don’t worry, Delia.” He gave her a short, sure nod. “You won’t have to.”

  Chapter 10

  Delia had been hoping that somehow Levi would send Ransom to her, but given the fact that they were courting and they’d be alone for nearly a week together, that wasn’t going to be possible. Even if Ransom was a good man of excellent character, they were single and she knew their relationship would suffer from the whispers of impropriety. So, she had been left to wonder who from the Express Station that they could possibly send to stay with her while her father was gone. The worry had given her a few sleepless nights and knots in her middle.

  But even when her answer arrived, riding alongside Ransom on a proud young grey gelding, she had to look twice to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. But even before they had cleared the first outbuilding, she recognized his impish grin and who it was that she’d be spending a week with at the Burroughs Station.