by Anna Zogg
He glanced at her then his blistered skin. “Too many fence posts.”
“Don’t you own any gloves?”
His grin grew bemused. “I’ve never needed any before now.”
“But...” She tapped his wrist. “Let me see.”
He clutched the reins with one hand, then showed her his other.
Taking care not to open his hand too far, she turned it palm up and examined the skin. “If you don’t care for these sores, they’ll fester. I can’t imagine what pain you’d be in then.” She gingerly fingered the hard edge of a blister that had broken open and dried. “You can’t dig any more holes until these heal.”
He pulled away to grasp the reins with both hands. “They must heal by tomorrow.”
Making a sound of frustration, she glared at him. Then she considered. Of course he was right. Minor injuries like blisters were no excuse not to work. If she said anything to Uncle Will or Guy, it would only make matters worse. “When we get back to the ranch, I need to put some salve on them.”
He appeared as though he would refuse, but finally answered with, “As you wish.”
Lifting her chin, she determined to see her plan through. “All right then.”
She would provide medical care to Rhett. Perhaps the others would see what she was capable of and give her a chance.
As they traveled, she reflected that this trip to town was pleasant compared to the one with Guy. Several times, Rhett pointed out features of the landscape or the hiding spots of various creatures. The wagon climbed in elevation as they wended their way through rocky foothills. Beyond them lay the town of Casper.
As they crested the hill and headed down the other side, they again met towering pines. For some reason, Rhett slowed the wagon, then stopped.
Ellie studied him. “What are—?”
“Shh.” He held up his hand, staring hard toward the trees.
Several seconds ticked by as she watched him. Had he seen a bear? Or a wolf? After putting a finger to his lips, Rhett slowly pointed. Scarcely daring to breathe, Ellie turned in her seat.
He leaned closer to whisper, “Be patient.”
Squinting into the dusky tree line, she saw nothing at first. Finally, the movement of a deer’s twitching ear caught her attention. Ellie spotted the doe’s form and large eyes staring their direction. Seconds later, a spindle-legged fawn appeared from between the trees to stand beside its mother. Ellie must have squeaked in pleasure because they suddenly bounded off.
“How did you know?” She turned to Rhett.
He grinned. “If you know where to look, you can see much.”
Perhaps it was his nearness or the way his blue eyes gleamed, but Ellie felt an unexplainable rush of heat to her cheeks.
“Thank you.” She looked back at where the deer and fawn had been, but they were long gone.
After Rhett clicked to his horse, they continued on their journey.
One question begged to be answered—why did this man constantly unsettle her? But the answer to that question puzzled her more. If he perplexed her, why did she feel more comfortable with him than with any man she’d ever met?
* * *
Rhett stood in the back of the church, ready to slip out the door at a moment’s notice. Quite a number of folks filled the tiny, makeshift building, ranging from farmers to ranchers. Some appeared to be railroad workers. From the number of buggies and wagons outside, people had gathered from all over the area. Wouldn’t be long before the burgeoning population built a real church building. The region promised to explode in growth, especially when the railroad reached Casper. Some estimated that would happen in the next couple months.
“Pardon.” A man squeezed by Rhett as he remained by the door. Many more filed past him to stand by the back wall.
He was glad Ellie hadn’t insisted he join her up front. Several young women had greeted her, squealing with excitement after she introduced herself and told them she was settling in the area. A few gushed over her elegant bonnet and her gray gown with its fine lace. Only the repeated clearing of throats from the more mature in nearby seats calmed the commotion.
Finally everyone settled and the singing began. Rhett found his throat tightening at the words of the cherished hymns. But when the congregation starting singing “And Can It Be?” his eyes filled with tears.
Several beloved lines resounded in his spirit—“My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.”
This song had been Mr. Callaway’s favorite. But more importantly, these were the words that had released Rhett himself from the shackles of hate and anger after years of hiding from outlaw relatives.
As the congregation sang all the stanzas, Rhett’s chest burned until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Once again he was humbled by the change God had wrought in his heart. What might his life have been like if his mother hadn’t smuggled him away?
The answer was simple. By now, he’d be in prison or hanged like the other members of the Walker Gang.
Emotion overwhelmed Rhett. He stumbled out the door and sought a quiet spot to fall to his knees. After a time, he gained control of himself. As promised, he prayed for Ellie and her uncle. Hatred from some unknown source shackled Will Marshall’s heart. What it could be, Rhett didn’t know.
When he finished his prayers, he debated going back inside but disliked the idea of disturbing the parishioners. Instead, he made his way down the quiet street. It didn’t take long to reach the livery. He had another promise to fulfill—find out what had happened to the stagecoach horse Ellie had stitched up.
The lone stable lad welcomed him. Rhett recognized him as the one who worked only Sundays.
“Ira.” He greeted him with a nod.
The boy stopped brushing a mare and stepped from the stall. “What can I do for ya, Mr. Rhett?”
He grinned at the “mister” part. This lad was the only one who referred to him that way. “A few days back, did Pete bring a horse here?”
“Stagecoach Pete?”
“The same.”
“Yeah, he’s out back. The horse, I mean.” The boy grinned. “I ain’t seen him yet. Got some fancy gentleman’s horses to care for first. You’re welcome to go look, if’n ya want.”
“Obliged.” Rhett went out to the back pen.
When he saw the gelding, his heart sank. Neglect marked the animal, not only in his unkempt coat, but in his listless look. No doubt the stagecoach company hadn’t bothered to decide the horse’s fate—they were just waiting for nature to take its course.
“Hey.” Rhett spoke softly as he entered the pen.
The gelding didn’t bother to raise his head.
He swiveled toward Ira, who stood in the doorway. “Get me a brush and a rope.” If Ellie saw the horse in this condition, her heart would break.
The gelding didn’t move as Rhett removed the clods of mud from his belly, then worked on his shoulder and back. As the day warmed, he shrugged out of his jacket. He kept brushing, losing track of time as he sought to make the horse as presentable as possible. When he was done, he examined the wound on the leg. It didn’t look good, the flesh around the oozing cut appearing inflamed. Someone had already removed the stitches.
If anyone could help this horse, it would be Ellie.
When Rhett led the horse from the pen, the stable boy protested. “I don’t think you’re allowed to take ’im.”
“Pete’ll arrange the details to buy him. Can you leave a message at the hotel? They’ll contact him next time he comes through town.”
The lad made a face. “Y’sure he’ll want that horse?”
“It’s not for Pete, but Miss Ellie Marshall.” Rhett pulled a small coin out of his pocket. “Can you relay the message?”
“Yessir.” Ira caught the coin midair. As he returned to his grooming job, he whistled.
<
br /> Rhett grinned. Amazing what kindness could do when greased with a little money.
As he led the horse through town, he grew aware of the curious stares of the townsfolk. Several were coming from the direction of the church. Was the service over? By the time he reached the building, he saw his guess was correct. A handful of people stood outside, visiting with Ellie, who stood in the center of a group.
As he made his way to the wagon with the gelding, he glanced her direction several times. Her face alit, she chatted with none other than Mrs. Rushton and Pastor Charles. Nicholas played nearby with a couple boys about his age. From the looks of the woman, Mrs. Rushton seemed to have recovered from the bump on her head. The only sign that remained of the accident was a slight discoloration of her forehead and around one eye.
“Thank You, Lord.” Rhett breathed a prayer of gratefulness as he tied the gelding to the back of the wagon and tossed his jacket in the back. While he waited for Ellie, he busied himself with the harness. After a few minutes, the sound of swishing silk and the pleasant scent of lavender alerted him that she approached.
“There you are.” Her breathless voice greeted him.
He turned, noting the pretty flush on her cheeks and her wide smile.
“I was beginning to wonder if you left me.”
“No chance of that.” He nodded toward the green-garbed woman who called to her son. “How is Mrs. Rushton?”
“Very well.” Ellie pressed one gloved hand to her chest. “I was so worried—” She broke off with a gasp as she caught sight of the gelding. Wide eyes met Rhett’s. “You found him. The chestnut.”
He merely nodded as he followed her to the back of the wagon.
“There’s a good boy.” Ellie removed her gloves to stroke the gelding’s nose. Her brows pinched together. “What’s wrong with him? He’s...” She paused as though unable to find the words to describe the horse’s apathy.
“Nothing your care won’t fix.”
Her frown deepened as she tucked her gloves into a pocket. “We should get him back to the ranch.”
“I’m ready to leave.”
In no time, they were both back in the wagon. Ellie waved to those who called their farewells.
When they were well out of town, Rhett cleared his throat. “You were planning to buy the gelding, right?”
“Yes. I told you I was.”
“I wanted to make certain. I told the livery boy that you would see to payment.”
“Oh, so you didn’t...” Her face colored. “I’m sorry. Had I known, I would’ve given you money.”
“That isn’t a problem. Pete will take care of the details and get the gelding for the best price.”
“Thank you.” She briefly rested her hand on Rhett’s forearm. “The horse’s in bad shape, isn’t he?”
Distracted by the touch of her warm hand, he took a moment to answer. “Yes.”
She turned to look behind. “I hope we got to him in time.”
As did Rhett. With all his heart, he hoped Ellie’s medical knowledge would be enough to save the horse. But the longer her soft hand rested on his forearm, the greater the realization that she would give the horse everything needed—safety, good care and, most important, affection. Her gentle spirit overflowed with love.
He pondered that as they rode while she chatted about the wonderful sermon Pastor Charles had preached. Nodding, Rhett didn’t correct her misconception that he had been present for the whole service.
After a few miles, he announced they needed to stop because the gelding had begun to limp. When Ellie insisted on checking the horse, he helped her down from the wagon.
A small furrow appeared between her brows as she patted the horse’s neck. Worry billowed around her.
Seeking to distract her, he asked, “What do you plan to call him?”
Ellie’s fingers rested on the gelding’s shoulder. “I was thinking Tripper. Since he seems to be doing that a lot.”
“A good name.” He smiled, wishing he could comfort her. “I’m glad...” He paused, mindful of what he was about to say. “I’m glad you’ll care for him.” He refrained from adding for the remainder of his life, knowing that the horse might not live much longer.
“He will get better.” The determination in Ellie’s tight jaw left no doubt that she intended to do all she could to save Tripper.
Rhett gritted his teeth, keeping his pessimism to himself. “And I’ll help in any way I can.”
Her smile was worth a whole herd of horses.
* * *
Later, they again stopped for a rest. Before Rhett could help her, she leaped down. Ellie was glad to escape the wagon and walk around for several minutes. Pausing, she turned toward the sun. She lifted her face, the heat tingling against her skin.
Breathing deeply, she let the peace of the scenery flow through her. This truly was a day of rest, so unlike her Sundays in Chicago where she worried about wearing just the right clothing with just the right accoutrements to impress...
Who were they again? She chuckled to herself when she realized she’d already started to forget their names.
In this so-called uncivilized part of the country, people had greeted her with genuine joy. They seemed less impressed with her frilly gray gown and matching bonnet than with who she was. Some had gushed over all she’d done for Mrs. Rushton, showing admiration for the care she’d provided.
The creak of the wagon distracted Ellie from her thoughts. Rhett retrieved something wrapped in a towel. Bread and cheese? He also pulled out a canteen of water.
She spread her hands. “Where did you get this?”
“I picked it up from the house this morning.”
“It must have been early. I didn’t hear you.”
He smiled with some secret knowledge.
“How’d you know I was hungry?” She laughed as she accepted the food.
“I knew I was.”
She looked around for somewhere to sit, but the wagon seat didn’t look appealing. Neither did the nearby rocks and dirt.
Rhett solved the problem by letting down the wagon’s gate. But that presented a new problem—she had no way to climb up.
“Allow me.” He had apparently guessed her dilemma.
A moment later, he lifted her and set her on the sturdy backboard.
Ellie gasped, but managed a “Thank you.”
Eyes lowered, he released her and stepped back. Everything had happened so quickly that she didn’t have time to protest. The thoughts still rumbled—he had no trouble lifting her, yet he had not used the opportunity to become inappropriately suggestive.
Like Guy might have.
As she nibbled on the bread, Rhett stood nearby, viewing the panorama while enjoying his own portion of the meal. As magnificent as the scenery was, her gaze kept returning to him as he ate. When he turned and caught her, she frowned at her piece of cheese.
He stepped closer. “Not to your liking?”
“Oh, no. I was just wondering...” She cast about for something—anything—to say.
“You were wondering...?”
“About...” She pointed to his clothing, stumbling over her words. “Why you dress. Like that.” When he didn’t answer right away, she added, “If you don’t mind my asking.”
A small smile pulled one corner of his mouth as he stepped closer. “But if I did mind—”
“You don’t have to answer.”
His grin broadened. “But there’s the hitch. It’s in the asking, not the answer.”
Heat rose to her face at his cryptic reply. Or was it because she was captivated by his brilliant blue eyes? As her pulse began to pound against her throat, she feared he would detect it.
“Because you’ve asked,” he said softly, his face growing solemn, “I’ll gladly answer.”
But he didn’t immedia
tely. Instead, he stared at the sky, then the hazy purple mountain range in the distance.
“A couple years ago, I did some scouting for the military, south of here.” He waved his hand in the ranch’s direction. “The various peoples we encountered were often put off by uniforms. I found buckskins smoothed down some of the suspicions we aroused by our travels.”
“That makes sense.”
Scouting? Ellie imagined that was likely in connection with the incident Mrs. Johnson had mentioned concerning her sister’s injured husband. However, she didn’t want to delve into that subject now.
“Besides, they’re comfortable and durable.” He grinned as he spoke.
She took a sip of water from the canteen. “I must admit, when I first saw you, I thought you were part of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show.”
He chuckled. “My mother once accused me of the same.”
“Your mother?” Ellie brushed off her hands. “Does she live around here?”
“No.”
When he said nothing more, she pressed. “Where then?”
“Cheyenne.”
His clipped answer was followed by a subtle shift in his expression before he turned away. Ellie got the distinct impression that he didn’t want to talk about her. That had also happened when she had asked about his family when they were sitting at the campfire. He had been open about his mentor, but not about his mother. Ellie also realized that he never spoke of his father. Why?
Rhett turned back to her. “Did you want more to eat?”
“No, I’m done.”
As he packed up the remainder of their food, she studied him. Why was he so reticent? The more he resisted, the more curious she became. She tried a different tack. “I never asked where you grew up.”
He kept his eyes averted as he continued to work. “Are you asking now?”
“Yes.” As he cast a glance her direction, she managed to keep her expression innocent and open.
“We lived around Cheyenne until I was eight. Then we moved southeast.”
“To Colorado? Or Kansas?”
“Both. For a time.” Hands at rest, he finally met her gaze.