Allowing Evie and Daniel to travel alone just wouldn't sit well with his conscience. Besides, Tyler was quite convinced they wouldn't let him out of their sight until they reached their destination. There was a certain tenacity in their innocence that he respected.
The alternative of waiting a week for the next stage, however, was equally reprehensible. Another week and he would no doubt either bed the brat or strangle her.
Leaning over the counter, Tyler began counting out his money. "Give me the two tickets for tomorrow and tell me where I can find the nearest livery."
Daniel and Evie took the news of his purchase of two horses with questioning looks but no overt objections. Tyler charged them only one half the cost of the horses, but they didn't even seem aware of that. They were damned babes in the wood and lucky he'd found them instead of someone less scrupulous, but he wasn't feeling particularly lucky when they set out the next day.
A wagon had to be hired to haul Evie's numerous trunks since the coach could only carry limited baggage. She had taken that news with casual aplomb, selecting her most important valise as the one she wished with her and admonishing the wagon driver to be careful with her mothers' "best linens" destined for her "sister" in Mineral Springs. The wagon driver might buy that story, but Tyler had seen mountains of feminine fripperies in some of those trunks, and although at least one carried linens, the others weighed too much to be either clothing or sheets. He was secretly harboring the gold bullion theory himself.
Both Evie and Daniel were bubbling with excitement as the stage set out, but Tyler and Benjamin looked forward to the dusty trip following the stage with a great deal less pleasure. By mid-morning the hot Texas sun had confirmed their expectations, and they were covering the bottom half of their faces with the crude neckerchiefs they had bought back in Houston to keep the dust out of their lungs.
Although out of the sun inside the stage, Evie was feeling the heat just the same. The leather shades on the windows kept out the light, but kept out any breath of fresh air, also. Since the stout man across from her was busily puffing on a cigar while inspecting her bodice waist with unnatural interest, Evie felt certain the queasiness in her stomach would soon lead to further unpleasantness.
"Sir, if you wouldn't mind, I am feeling quite faint. The smoke is making my head spin. If you could just put out the cigar until the air clears..."
He tapped the cigar end out the window and blew a long spiral of smoke into the thickened air. "You'd best get accustomed to it, little lady. We Texans like our tobacco and whiskey strong. If you don't like it, just go back where you came from."
So saying, he drew out a flask of whiskey and began to imbibe.
The sales drummer next to him looked disgusted, but half the other man's girth and height, he didn't interfere. The faded farmer's wife in the other corner looked resigned, and the child across from her was asleep. That left only Daniel and Evie to protest the man's rudeness.
They exchanged glances. What would Pecos Martin do in a situation like this? Daniel gripped his gold-knobbed cane in the middle and grabbed for the strap overhead as the stage swayed when it hit a rut. The cane swayed with him.
The flask the fat man had been about to cap encountered the cane and flew out of his hand, spewing its contents over his lap until the entire interior reeked of whiskey. Even the farmer's wife watched with a degree of interest as the man shrieked his rage, until the child woke and began to cry.
"So sorry, sir. It's this deuced leg of mine. Doesn't support me even sitting. I'll buy you a fresh supply in the nearest town." Daniel apologetically produced his large handkerchief to dab at the damage.
Evie sweetly reached over and removed the cigar from the astonished man's hand, flinging it out the window. "You'll catch fire if that falls on your trousers. Why, I had a neighbor once who spilled some brandy all over his best jacket, and he was so surprised that he dropped his cigar, and before anyone knew it, he went up in flames. Rather like a dessert flambé, only not so amusing."
The slender drummer chuckled, and the child quit wailing as it watched the fat man slowly turn purple. Blithely ignoring his fury, Evie pulled back the shade and waved at the two men riding alongside the lumbering stagecoach. Benjamin tipped his hat, but Tyler pretended to ignore her. The distraction worked, however, and Evie smiled as the fat man took a look at the rifle tied to Tyler's saddle and held his tongue.
"Are y'all going to Mineral Springs, too?" Evie asked the quiet woman in the corner. The silence inside the coach was too intimidating, and she sought the sound of another voice.
"We went to see after my sister in Houston. She's been down ill, but she's better now. Are you the new schoolteacher?"
Schoolteacher. Evie didn't glance at Daniel. She knew the look on his face without seeing it.
"I'm interviewing for the position. Will your young one be attending?" She cast the grubby youngster a dubious glance, but the child had gone back to sucking his thumb with his eyes closed.
"He's the baby. He's only four. But the others ought to go. I've only got one what's eager, but the others ought to know something of their letters. I don't want them to grow up as ignorant as their mother."
"There's all kinds of knowledge besides letters in this world, and I'm sure you possess many of them, Mrs.—" Evie left the sentence dangling while she waited to be supplied a name.
"Dabney. Mrs. Otis Dabney."
"I'm Maryellen Peyton, Mrs. Dabney, and this here is my brother Daniel. We're happy to meet you."
Daniel took his book from his pocket and began to read. There wasn't a thing he could do to keep Evie from doing just what she wanted, and there wasn't any sense in trying. She lived in a world all her own. He was just an occasional participant.
They stopped at a way station to rest and water the horses. Evie produced fried chicken and biscuits and fried apple pies from the huge sack she had insisted on carrying with her. The woman she had befriended brought out bread, jam, and boiled eggs, and they happily exchanged their various fares as if this were a family picnic.
Tyler appreciated the food, but he kept an eye on the fat man with the whiskey stains down his front. The man was watching the Peytons with a belligerent look that bespoke one of their more rebellious escapades, but Tyler knew it was worse than useless to question either of them. Daniel would merely look surprised and tell him everything was just fine, and Evie would produce some outrageous lie or another. He'd decided some time back if he didn't want to hear lies, he shouldn't ask questions. So he didn't.
The sun was even worse as they set out again. The terrain was growing steadily less forested and more shrubby, and the dirt beneath the horse's hooves flew up in a fine dust that coated everything in sight. Years in a Yankee prison camp had taught him to endure many things, but Tyler wasn't well pleased with having to suffer for the sake of a capricious brat and her brother.
But it was his own damned fault for continuing with this journey against his better judgment, so he would pay the price. He was beginning to realize that curiosity was as strong a factor as anything else in his pursuit of this insanity. He wanted to see what really awaited them in Mineral Springs.
So Tyler allowed the sun to lull him into a stupor as they rode steadily westward. He pulled his hat brim over his eyes to shade his face and pulled his neckerchief more securely around his nose until he looked like a Mexican bandit. His newly acquired horse had learned the gait of the stage and followed it obediently without much direction. A man could almost take a nap through this country and not notice the difference when he woke up.
That was the excuse he gave himself later when the thieves rode out of a stand of oaks, and he didn't see them until it was too late.
The horses screamed their fear as shots rang over their heads. The stage swerved perilously, and the passengers grabbed the straps over their heads to try to hang on. Evie searched for some sign of Tyler out the window, but he had been lagging behind these last few miles and she saw no sign of him now.
The two male passengers grabbed for small weapons hidden in the various folds of their coats and waistcoats, and Daniel gripped his cane like a sword as the coach rumbled to a halt. The shouts of the thieves could be heard ahead, and terror laced the driver's reply.
Making certain none of the robbers had come around to their side, Daniel flung open the stage door and pushed Evie out. "There's a dry riverbed down there. Run for it. They won't shoot a woman, and Pecos won't have to worry about you when the shooting starts."
Too frightened to argue, Evie grabbed her skirts and began to run. She and Daniel had discussed what they would do if they were set upon by thieves, but neither of them had ever really believed such things would happen. Daniel had read her the newspaper accounts of rape and robbery, and tried to impress upon her that she was in more danger than he, but it had never seemed so real before. She knew he couldn't run. She knew he could be hurt if she stayed here and he had to defend her honor. But it still didn't seem right to be running.
She almost stopped and turned around, but she heard the pounding hoofbeats of Tyler's horse coming up the road just as the dry riverbed loomed ahead. She hurriedly slid down into it. What Daniel said made sense. Heroes were always much more likely to go after the thieves if the heroines weren't around needing protection.
Tyler saw her sliding down the embankment and cursed, but it was too late to stop her. If she preferred to take her chances with rattlesnakes instead of with him, that was just fine.
He had never thought to raise a weapon again, but instinct was stronger than any vow a man could make. He shifted his rifle to take aim at the bastard holding his gun on the driver.
Benjamin rode up on the far side of the coach. The gunman Tyler picked out went down, and he aimed for the next. There were half a dozen of the outlaws, but they hadn't been expecting resistance. Two of them turned tail and ran as Benjamin got off three neat shots with his repeating rifle. Tyler took careful aim at one of the two riding in the same direction as Evie had fled.
That was when one of the idiots in the coach decided to come to his own defense. Even as a third gunman toppled from his horse and the last one galloped off after his comrades, a thin swirl of smoke and a sharp bark issued from within the stage, and Benjamin fell.
Tyler was in hot pursuit of the bastards chasing Evie when the scream reached him. He turned in time to see Benjamin hit the dirt.
His heart screamed its rage and fear as the stagecoach abruptly jolted into motion, but it was too late for anything: too late to stop them, too late for Benjamin, and too late for himself and Evie if he didn't act soon.
Chapter 7
Evie screamed as a horse flew over her head, landing in the dust of the dry riverbed. Before she could recover her senses, Tyler was jerking her from her feet and throwing her over his knees like a sack of flour. She scrabbled for handholds as the horse took off down the gully without so much as a by-your-leave from its rider.
She had never been inclined to hysteria, but it took a great deal of effort to keep from mindlessly screaming as her fingers dug into Tyler's leg and her position slipped with the jarring gait of the horse. Tyler caught her bodice waist and pulled her more forcefully across his lap, but now her head hung over his knee and she had a terrifying view of the landscape flying by beneath her.
She closed her eyes as shots rang over their heads. The steady stream of curses Tyler had been emitting when he first grabbed her now ceased. He turned his entire attention to forcing his tired horse to outpacing the thieves. Evie clung to his nankeen trousers and attempted prayer. It was a trifle difficult when her corset was bouncing off Tyler's knee.
The shots eventually grew farther away. As the horse stumbled and heaved, Tyler let up the pace, slowing to a walk while listening for any sign of pursuit. Finally, satisfied that their pursuers had given up the chase, Tyler halted and lowered Evie to the ground.
With an air of surrender, she settled into the dust and bent her head to her knees, gasping for air as she tried to quiet her shaken insides.
Tyler climbed down and watched her, but he was already cutting off the pain by closing off his emotions as he'd learned to do in prison. The stagecoach rumbling off without them caused a moment's fury, but he refused to think of Benjamin crumpling to the ground, lying still in the roadway without anyone stopping to help. To the occupants of the stagecoach, Benjamin was only a black man, less than an animal, and possibly one of the thieves to their bigoted minds.
Tyler swore at himself for not going back to see to his friend instead of going after this miserable brat who hadn't the sense God gave a goose. But his damnable sense of Southern chivalry had reared its ugly head, and he had gone to rescue the lady rather than help the friend who had stood beside him since childhood.
It didn't make sense. But life would never make sense. He knew that; he just had to remember it at times like these. Watching Evie gulping back tears and terror, Tyler let his mind travel to the next thing to be done if they were to survive this situation. The sun was sinking toward the horizon. They would have to find shelter and water. His horse couldn't travel much farther, particularly with two riders.
He wanted to go back for Benjamin, but practicality told him he had to get Evie settled and his horse watered before he could do anything. He scanned the horizon in all directions, seeing nothing habitable. But a stand of trees toward the west spoke of water.
He held a hand out to Evie. "Come on, we've got to get going."
She didn't look at him. She didn't take his hand, either. She caught up her skirts and rose, somewhat shakily perhaps, but she hid that well as she dusted herself off.
Without a word of question, she followed as Tyler led the horse toward the trees. She knew he was furious with her. She didn't even need to see the set lines of his jaw to know that. She could see the knots of tension in his shoulders, the way he strode with his back straight and turned to her. She had learned to read other people by watching the way they moved. Tyler was bordering on irrational, and she tried not to be afraid. Heroines were never afraid. The heroes always got them out of these situations. Hadn't Tyler just saved her from the outlaws? Who was going to save her from Tyler?
A dilapidated cabin sat among the skinny trunks of oaks someone had obviously planted to keep the house cool. No smoke came from its one chimney. No reply came after Tyler's yell of greeting.
They found a crude well in the side yard and drew up water for the horse. With no dipper in sight, Tyler cupped his hands and dipped some of the muddy liquid for himself. Evie watched him and attempted to repeat the motion, but she succeeded mostly in splattering her gabardine bodice. Getting enough water to quench her parched lips, she gave up the attempt and walked toward the cabin.
Tyler was ahead of her, holding her back with his hand as he knocked, then threw open the door. The interior smelled musty and unused, and a rustle in the darkness warned the inhabitants weren't human.
Stamping his boots to scare off any other intruders, Tyler entered and glanced around. Whoever had left the cabin had meant to return. In the light of the dying sun through the room's one window, he could discern a crude table and chair, and a bed nailed to the corner walls and supported by one post. A faded quilt covered the thin mattress, and an iron skillet still hung beside the fireplace. Dust covered everything, but dust always did. It was impossible to tell how long the owner had been away.
Evie swept by him and immediately began scanning the cabin's meager supplies. "Can you start a fire? I can cook these beans. It looked like there was a bit of a garden out there. There might be some root vegetables for a stew."
Tyler watched her for a minute, hating her for her cool behavior, wishing she would behave like any hysterical female so he could despise her even more. His best friend was dead or dying in the middle of a road to nowhere, and she was discussing beans and stew. In the room's crude interior her trailing gabardine gown and ruffled ruching were as out of place as a ghost in daylight She ought to be cursing the fate
s and yelling at him to do something.
Instead, she waited patiently for him to light a fire in the ghastly heat of this day.
Tyler walked out, returning shortly later with an armload of tinder. He set the fire, went back out for some larger limbs, and fed them into the blaze until they caught. Then he stood and stared down into her pale face.
"I'm going back out to look for Ben."
Her blue-black eyes widened into shadowed circles. "Ben? What happened to Ben?"
Of course. She hadn't seen him fall. She was too busy running like a scared goose in the opposite direction. Tyler wanted to ask her what the hell she had thought she was doing, but he was too tired to care anymore.
"One of the passengers shot him," Tyler replied with a hint of scorn, the only emotion he could summon at the moment. When she seemed at a loss for words for once, he turned and walked out. There was still enough daylight left to ride back to the road. He didn't give a damn what happened to Miss Evie Peyton while he was gone.
By the time Tyler returned, without any sign of Ben or his horse, the sun had long since gone down. Tyler was weary clear down to the marrow of his bones, and the contents of the flask of whiskey in his saddlebag was the only thing keeping him going.
He could smell the smoke from the fire as he brushed down his horse and the stray he had found, watered them, and fed them some hay from the ramshackle stall beside the house. He threw the saddle over the gate when he was done, picked up his bags, and headed for the cabin and Evie.
He hadn't come home to a woman since he was seventeen years old. The eight years since then might not have been long in terms of time, but they were decades in terms of experience. Tyler felt nothing now at the thought of the woman waiting for him, supper on the table, her lovely face lined with worry. He wanted to feel nothing.
Evie always caught him by surprise. He walked in and found her hanging her newly washed petticoats beside the fire. In the fire's light, her wet hair gleamed with dull red against chestnut. She looked up at him without surprise or criticism, and his glance dropped to her slim figure silhouetted against the fire. To his disappointment, she had donned a corset and all the other proper accoutrements of a lady after her bath, all except the heavy petticoats.
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