by Jodi Thomas
Josh moved up beside Bethanie as they reached the edge of town. In a low voice, not meant to be heard by the other women, Josh asked, “Bethanie, you wanta’ ride up ahead with me for a while, until, we’re well away?”
Bethanie nodded, understanding his logic. She had no wish to face her aunt yet.
“Dusty, ride back with the women and the priest.” Josh smiled at the boy. He seemed to have made an effort to clean up a bit. Josh couldn’t help but like the kid and hoped he’d made the right decision to bring him along. This wild country was no place for children, but Dusty seemed strong in spirit, if not yet grown. He reminded Josh of a determined little turtle born with his survival instinct fully developed.
Dusty reined his horse and saluted as he turned and galloped back to the others.
Josh and Bethanie rode in silence for an hour. He studied her out of the corner of one eye. He could not miss the bruises around her neck or the puffiness of her eyes from crying. He watched the way she sat proud and straight in the saddle as she stared ahead, deep in her own thoughts. Even in rags she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Toward noon, they stopped to water the horses and eat a few bites of beef jerky. As Martha climbed down from her horse, she spotted Bethanie’s face for the first time. “Bethanie!” she shouted in anger. “What in the devil are you doing here?” Her fingers clenched into fists as she stormed at Bethanie like a raging bull. “You have no right to be here.”
Josh watched Bethanie stiffen. “I paid my way just as you did,” she answered, keeping her voice under tight control.
“Where’d you get that kind of money?” Martha’s face was twisted with surprise and anger. “Well, you just turn around and ride back. Wilbur needs your help, useless as you are at the hotel.”
Bethanie dusted the dirt from her pants as she avoided Martha’s stare. “I’m sorry, Aunt Martha, but I no longer wish to live with you and Uncle Wilbur. I’ll make my own way now, without your help.”
“Why, you thankless little tramp,” Martha screamed. “You’ll be sleeping on the streets within a month.” Martha raised her hand to slap her niece.
Josh had had enough of this crow. He stepped between the two women, catching Martha’s hand in midair. “That’s enough, Mrs. Brewer. Your niece paid me the same amount as you did to come along,” Josh lied. He wasn’t about to mention his and Bethanie’s agreement to this old woman, whose heart must be the size of a raisin.
“You stay out of what’s none of your business. This ungrateful girl was holdin’ out money while she lived off our good nature for six months,” Martha shouted, unwilling to give up her fight. “She’s trash, just like her mother. A second-generation whore, probably destined to breed bastard children.”
Bethanie’s head jerked up, a fiery hatred burning toward Martha. Her fists doubled as she took a step toward her aunt, no longer able to restrain herself.
Josh stepped between them. He couldn’t turn this old alley cat loose on a kitten like Bethanie. “Well, that’s not exactly the way I see it.” Josh fought to keep calm. White lines edged the tiny wrinkles around his mouth. The memory of Bethanie’s beautiful mother flashed in his mind. He remembered her sad eyes, which had looked as if they’d taken decades to accumulate so much heartbreak. Now he watched the daughter, strong and silent before him. “Bethanie, hold out your hands, please.”
Bethanie looked at Josh, puzzlement brushing away her anger. She opened her hands palm up to him. Her silent action told him, more than words, of her trust in him.
“Now, Mrs. Brewer, your hands.” Josh reached for the older woman’s hands. Martha’s skin was smooth, whereas Bethanie’s was raw and calloused from work. “It appears to me you got more than your money back on her keep.” He turned toward Martha, anger hardening his every muscle. “I’ll hear no more from you. Is that understood? Unless you prefer riding alone the rest of the way?”
Fear avalanched in Martha’s eyes. “I’ll say no more now.” She glared past Josh to Bethanie, her eyes promising to continue her fight later.
Josh turned and walked down to where Mike and Allison stood watering the horses. They were oblivious to the argument behind them. The two had hit it off during the morning ride and now were laughing together as Josh approached.
“Josh, my son,” Michael smiled as he pushed his hood further back off his sunny hair. “If you’ll take over here, I’ll take Miss Allison up to sit in the shade.”
“Sure.” Josh reached for the loose reins. Mike was playing his role of priest to the hilt. He seemed fascinated with the tiny woman-child.
Allison slipped her small fingers into the crook of Mike’s arm. “I’m very glad you’re traveling with us,” she whispered in a honey-sweet tone. “It’s so nice to be able to talk with someone. What better companion than a man of the cloth?” She lowered her blue china-doll eyes in a movement designed to attract attention.
As they moved away, Josh laughed to himself. He wondered how long Mike would be able to keep up his Father Michael act with pretty little Allison around. She was a beauty, but Josh had found himself shying away from that flirty kind of woman. He doubted she was as helpless as she acted.
Bethanie stepped up beside Josh and patted the aging roan she had been riding since dawn. Her voice was soft as she spoke to Josh without looking in his direction. “I’d like to thank you for not telling Aunt Martha about our agreement.”
Josh knew it was hard for Bethanie to thank him. He studied the dark purple marks along her neck and felt anger boil in his blood. “Forget it. We have a deal. You’ll help me out later when we get to the ranch. Our agreement doesn’t concern anyone else.” He thought for a moment, then added, “You can ride up front as scout with me if you like.” She had been honest when she said she rode better than most men.
“I’d like that,” Bethanie answered without smiling. Josh knew her decision was based more on her dislike of her aunt’s company than on her enjoyment of his.
“If I’m to help you scout, I’d better tell you I saw an Indian a few miles back along the ridge to the west.” Bethanie whispered as if her voice might alarm everyone.
“I know.” Josh tightened the girth on one of the horses and tried not to notice the effect her nearness had on him. “I saw him, too. Apache, I’d guess, from his looks. He’s following us. What bothers me is the son of the devil doesn’t seem to care that we’ve spotted him. If he were alone, we would never have seen him.”
“That’s what I was afraid you’d say,” Bethanie added as she mounted, no fear in her words.
Josh was proud to see no panic in her manner, only the cautious alertness instinctive to those who managed to stay alive in this open country. She was not like most women who jumped at the first sight of an Indian. This always bothered Josh, because most Indians were as peaceful as the white man. He laughed to himself; that wasn’t saying much in a country where they’d been fighting each other for four years. The only real threat to Texans were the Plains tribes who had such a heritage of freedom that they could not accept the reservations. Should Josh and his group run into them, the Indians would kill the men and take the women captive.
“Mount up, everyone,” Josh shouted over his shoulder. “We’ve got a long ride before dark.”
Josh made no effort to help Martha or Bethanie, but he noticed Mike assisted Allison into the saddle with loving care. As they began to move out, Josh rode alongside Mike for a few minutes. They exchanged plans, then Josh rode ahead to Bethanie’s side.
Josh leaned slightly toward her as he spoke. “If there’s trouble, stay close to me.”
Bethanie nodded slightly as she pushed a strand of shiny red hair from her cheek.
Josh found it difficult to continue his line of thinking with this beauty so near. “Should we be attacked, you and I are going to have to ride like the wind. The Indians will follow us, figuring we are the menfolks. Mike and Dusty will stay with the women and take off in the other direction.” Josh smiled at her with a twinkle
of mischief in his dark brown eyes. “You think you can keep up if we have to run for it?”
A tiny smile touched the corner of her lip. “I can keep up.”
Josh knew he was placing her in great danger, but somehow he didn’t want to leave her. With luck his plan would never have to be implemented, and they would ride quietly to Ben’s ranch. But something told Josh, with an Indian already following them, that luck wouldn’t be in abundance this trip.
Chapter Four
At dusk the small, mismatched band camped beneath a rambling bluff. All except Martha were too tired even for conversation, but she managed to mumble her irritation over Bethanie’s presence long after the sun faded. Though Josh grew short-tempered over her cutting comments, Mike’s patience seemed boundless. Josh first thought the robes must have gone to Mike’s head, then decided, “Pet the cow to get to the calf” was more Mike’s goal.
Josh had tried all day to talk with Bethanie, but, for the most part, his efforts were fruitless. Though her responses weren’t as hostile as they were at first, she seemed to prefer silence. By the end of the day, he would have been more than satisfied if Martha had shown the same preference.
Josh paced the fringes of the firelight watching the others sleep. He stopped to adjust Dusty’s blanket over the boy’s shoulder. The kid had ridden well today and never complained. When they made camp, he’d fallen into an exhausted sleep at once. Josh liked the rugged, half-wild kid. The boy might never have been taught some of the social graces, but he had the intelligent eyes of an animal which had survived many winters of pursuit.
A twig snapped behind Josh, drawing him from his thoughts. He swung in one fluid motion toward the sound, sliding his Colt from its holster in silent readiness. The tiny snap might be only a frightened rabbit, or it might mean death.
Bethanie emerged from the shadows, her green eyes wide with reflected firelight. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” she apologized.
Josh lowered his gun back into its nest. “It’s riot a good idea to walk up behind someone in this country,” he scolded. His words lost their sting as her beauty registered in his mind. Her hair was loose, drifting in a fiery cloud past her shoulders. Her slender frame moved gracefully, even in the old clothes she wore. She seemed unaware of her loveliness. Josh longed to touch even a curl of her hair, but knew his action would set fire to her emerald eyes. He smiled to himself, thinking that the pleasure of touching her hair as it tumbled so free might be worth her anger. Bethanie’s beauty, woven together with her proud, half-frightened behavior, fascinated him. Never had a woman gotten under his skin so completely. Yet, she seemed to pay him only passing notice.
“I want to thank you,” Bethanie whispered. “I was harsh to you this morning, and you’ve done nothing to merit my wrath.” She shoved her hands into her pockets, which only served to emphasize the fullness of her breasts.
“You don’t have to apologize.” Josh slowly moved closer to her. “I’m a man of my word, Bethanie. I wish you could trust me.”
He could see skepticism betrayed in the arch of her eyebrow, but her words were only a whisper. “If there’s trouble, I want to ride with you.” She hesitated. “Don’t leave me here with the other women.”
“With Martha, you mean?” Josh guessed the truth as he studied her and wondered if even the campfire’s reflection could melt their chilling gaze.
“You’re observant,” Bethanie said. “Only Martha’s sleep has quieted her protest of my presence.”
Josh wished she would say more, but as always she was conservative with her speech. He must break the silence that was growing between them. “If we split up, Mike will join us at my brother’s ranch.” He tried to compliment her. “Your skill in handling a horse is amazing for such a young girl.”
“I’m a full-grown woman!” Bethanie answered firmly, and turned away. “Good night.”
“Bethanie,” Josh whispered, wishing she would stay and talk, but knowing they both needed their sleep. “There’s an extra blanket by my saddle.”
“No thanks, I’m fine,” Bethanie answered, her voice defiant again.
Josh frowned. He seemed to cross her even when he meant only kindness. “Now, don’t get touchy. I’ll use Mike’s blanket when I wake him up for watch. These nights get chilly out here.”
“Thanks,” Bethanie said, “but I don’t want any special favors. I’m fine on my own.” When she glanced back at Josh, her gaze looked as cold as ice.
“I know.” Josh’s brows furrowed in thought. How could she think she could make it on her own? He’d been alternating between wanting to spank her and hug her all day. Never had a woman frustrated him so. Everything he tried to do for her was suspect.
Josh watched her walk back to the fire. She curled up, pulling her coat tight around her. She might appear to be a fragile beauty with hair the color of red-gold fire, but Josh decided she had more grit than most men he’d met. All day she rode beside him uncomplaining. Once he’d seen her smile at Dusty so he knew that somewhere beneath her cold, lonely manner lay a tender creature.
Bethanie filled Josh’s thoughts during his watch. Just before he finished his shift, he covered the sleeping redhead with his blanket. He noticed she lay only a few feet from where he’d spread his bedroll. Maybe she wasn’t as self-assured as he thought. “Wonder if she’d put up much of a fuss if I put my arm around her while she slept? Who am I kidding?” Josh laughed to himself. She’d made it more than plain she wouldn’t welcome any advances. Besides, he had plenty of other problems to worry about.
“Indians!” Dusty yelled, scrambling down from the bluff at dawn. “There’s Indians coming!”
Bethanie tossed the remainder of her hard breakfast roll in the fire and ran toward the horses and Josh. She had expected this cry all night, yet the fact dwarfed the fear as she felt adrenaline shoot like wildfire through her veins.
“Mount up!” Josh ordered as he slung the last saddle, his own, over his horse. Everyone jumped to his command.
Bethanie flew into her saddle, shoved her hair underneath her hat, and pulled it low over her face. She watched Mike swing Allison up, patting her hand in comfort. Her cousin’s face reflected the fright Bethanie felt welling inside her.
Aunt Martha complained loudly as she clawed her way into her saddle and tried to control her mount. The sound of horses’ hooves rumbled in the quiet morning air like a far-off thunderstorm.
Josh shouted orders as he mounted. “Dusty! Stay with Mike! Bethanie and I will break and ride south. Mike, stick to the trees and head straight for the ranch!”
“Right.” Dusty saluted, laughing with excitement as the thunder of horses grew louder. He was a boy living the wild-wilderness dream all boys have, with no thought of death.
In a cloud of dust, a dozen Indians broke from the ridge line at full gallop.
Bethanie heard them several seconds before her eyes picked out their half-naked bodies from the brown wave. The pounding of her heart harmonized with their earshattering rhythm. She leaned forward in her saddle, every muscle ready.
Josh broke from the others and yelled above the drumming, “Ride, Bethanie!”
A heartbeat later, Bethanie joined his frantic pace. They rode south toward open country at breakneck speed. Bethanie molded to her horse and felt only the wind hampering her progress. An unexpected shrill scream blended with the noise around her. The cry was that of a dying animal, vastly different from the wild shouts of Indians. Bethanie glanced back over her shoulder toward the clearing as terror gripped her. She watched Martha slump in her saddle, an arrow deep in her back. Mike grabbed the reins of Martha’s horse and vanished into the wooded area to the north. Bethanie saw one warrior break from the band and turn toward the woods. The rest, as Josh had predicted, were riding wildly toward them.
Bethanie pulled her hat down and kicked her horse as the Indians grew nearer. Bullets and arrows whizzed past as she plastered her body low. Her mount was fast and well rested, but she didn’t know if she cou
ld outrun the half-wild ponies behind them.
A thud sounded beside her, the horrible sound of an arrow hitting its mark. Bethanie glanced toward Josh as he leaned forward slightly in the saddle. He cursed and reined his horse. She had to pull hard to stay beside him. He turned his mount behind a cluster of rocks. It wasn’t much protection, but it was better than being out in the open.
“Go!” Josh yelled as he pulled his gun and began to fire at their pursuers. “I’ll slow them down.”
“No!” Bethanie yelled. “I’m staying with you.”
Josh slid from his horse. “I’m hurt, I can’t keep up with you, but you can get away. Get out of here! Now!” His face was red with anger and pain.
“No!” Bethanie bounced from her saddle and knelt beside him. “Hand me your rifle,” she screamed, leaving no room for discussion.
Josh’s handsome features were rigid with anger. He had no time to argue. Cursing under his breath, he turned his wrath upon the Indians. The band slowed their advance as Josh began to aim purposefully, accurately gauging and hitting his targets. The savages stopped just out of range and regrouped. Josh slammed bullets into his Colt as he fumed. Blood trickled in a scarlet stream down his left sleeve where the colorful end of an arrow lodged in his arm.
“You should’ve left while you had the chance.” He spit out the words between gritted teeth as he pulled at the arrow snagged deep within his flesh. “You could be safely away by now.”
“Leave for where? I have no idea what direction to ride,” Bethanie answered. “You said I could stay with you, and stay with you I will!” She ripped his torn shirt from his arm.
Josh continued firing as she worked. Bethanie had the feeling he was taking his anger at her out on the Indians.
She knelt closer beside him. “The arrow has cut clean through the muscle.” Their eyes met, and both knew what must be done.
Josh pulled his knife from his pocket and handed it to her. “Can you pull it through?”