As one, the passengers still watching sighed in relief. All was well. In their eyes, he acted the gentleman, protecting his lady’s virtue. The commotion over, the passengers relaxed and returned to sleep.
“You sleep on the inside.”
Complying with his wise decision, she slid over to the far side. “Thank you, Mr. King.”
His gaze held hers, his strong jaw slightly cocked to one side. “You know, you are too beautiful for your own good.”
She didn’t understand what he meant. Did he think it her fault the cowboy attempted to attack her? Her gaze questioned him with a hurt expression, but he said no more before laying back and closing his eyes.
Once again, she fought to recapture sleep, but to no avail. She kept thinking of his words. She understood she’d been fortunate he returned in time to come to her aide. Even more fortunate his trusty guns were strapped to him, but instinct told her he would have been equally intimidating without them.
****
Jared woke early the following morning. His movements were quiet as he came up on his side and glanced down at Taryn. God, she was young. In sleep, she projected even more of a youthful innocence than she did awake. She personified a look of enchanting freshness about her. Her long chestnut hair lay softly over her shoulders, a few strands falling across her cheek. Tempted to brush them back, he held himself in check. Thick dark lashes lay against her cheeks, and he longed to view the emerald green eyes disarming in their beauty. Having tasted the sweetness of her tender mouth, he envisioned repeating the experience at some future date. His gaze scanned the length of her body in appreciation. He could only imagine the softness hidden beneath the garment she wore. She rolled onto her back. His gaze returned to her face as she slowly came out of her slumber. His own features instantly converted to impartiality before her gaze focused on his face. Groaning in stiffness, she arched her back, stretching her entire length in a fluid motion. He found her unconscious movement seductive and entirely too distracting.
He sat up, throwing his long legs over the side of the board and into the aisle, his mood strangely at odds by the thought of her. The train pulled into the first station stop. Farmers and their wives shuffled through the car waving their wares available for purchase. A heavyset woman with weathered features shoved her basket of eggs and cakes into his face hoping to entice him to buy. Still attempting to control the urge of having the innocent next to him for breakfast, he longed to set the offensive woman back on her heels with a burning comment. He turned to Taryn, refraining from acting on his irritation. She stared at the food much the way a mongrel salivated over a slab of meat. “Are you hungry?”
She nodded vigorously, reaching across him to retrieve her valise. “I think I have enough money for one cake.” She rummaged for coins in an inside pouch. Retrieving the money, she held it out.
“Keep it.” He reached into his own pocket, paying the woman for their breakfast. The farm woman continued down the aisle as others called out. He sat back down placing the items on the boards. Her expression held stubborn pride when he glanced her way. The previous night her disapproval had been obvious when he’d not purchased her board and pillows. She’d graced him with a venomous glint from those beautiful eyes of hers. The same look she gave him now. He purchased a decent breakfast, and she acted too proud to accept the gesture. The inconsistency in her behavior confounded him. Even now she continued to hold the money out toward him. He reached out and folded her fingers into a fist over the coins. “I said keep it.” The simple touch stimulated him far more than expected.
His long-bronzed fingers were warm as they lay over hers, and her heart skipped a beat at the contact. “It wouldn’t be proper.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and his brow rose. “Haven’t you ever wanted to live dangerously?”
She couldn’t help the laugh bubbling up inside her. “Good Heavens, I sounded like my mother! All right. I’ll accept the kindness. Thank you, Mr. King.”
He frowned in annoyance. The sound of her laughter and the sparkle filling her eyes affected him only slightly less than the strange stirring of emotion coursing through him by the touch of his hand over hers. He abruptly broke the contact in an effort to stop his escalating thoughts. He felt his control slipping. He was a breath away from dragging her across his lap and covering her mouth with his.
Conversation ensued slowly while they enjoyed their tasty breakfast. Taryn considered the weapons about his hips, taking a bite of her cake. “Are you a gunman?”
“I suppose some would refer to me as one.”
“Honestly? It must be exciting.”
“Not particularly,” he said truthfully, taking a healthy mouthful of his own pastry.
“Oh, yes, I imagine the danger involved would cause you worry. The idea of it is exciting to me. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Her enchanting innocence bothered his senses. He struggled with discerning the reason why. Her face held such an open and trusting quality. In his profession, and with his way of life, he couldn’t remember when he’d last experienced innocence. “How old are you?”
She lifted her chin. “Eighteen.”
A slight smile formed on his face. He assumed as much. Her manner of response was an attempt at displaying worldliness when, in truth, she was far from it. A fact he considered in her favor. Strangely, he found himself also considering the ten-year age difference between them. Why had that thought entered his mind? His conscience told him he should stay as far from her as possible. The same conscience many in the past accused him of lacking. They were complete opposites—she innocent of life’s experience, and he hardened by it. And yet, she had an unusually strong impact on him after such a short time since they’d met.
The sight of the man touching her the previous night had enraged him. The thought of rearranging the man’s body parts came foremost to mind. Somehow, the girl instilled a protective side to him he didn’t fully comprehend. Confused by it all, he abruptly stood in the aisle lifting his board up from across the seats. She did the same, and they stored them away along with the pillows and blankets for the evening.
The morning hours passed in quiet solitude. Taryn seemed engrossed in the panoramic scenery outside, and although its beauty was breathtaking, with the prairie occasionally yielding a scattered group of buffalo, the sight was familiar to him and didn’t capture his attention. His fingers brushed the leather holster of his gun belt. He glanced down at the source of his profession throughout the years.
Gunman, shooter, whatever the title, it was his life. It had begun at the age of twenty-three resulting from a high stakes poker game in California. One man’s cheating ended his life and started Jared’s career. Because of the incident, he’d found it necessary to leave hastily. He never actively pursued the life he led. He found himself using his guns more out of self-defense than for any desire to kill. His skill with a gun, borne and perfected out of sheer necessity, caused him to drift from town to town. In each, there was always one or another avid to test their skill against his. Never one to regret the occurrences of fate, he accepted his. He never drew his gun against another to prove his speed, yet he wouldn’t hesitate in its use if his life depended on it.
At one time, he hoped to raise and breed horses. He took an interest at a young age through his father who bred Appaloosas. Many years and changes occurred since those days. Both his parents were dead now. He and his brother were the only ones left of the family. He hadn’t seen his brother since he’d left California five years ago. Regardless of the separation, their contact remained close through correspondence.
Five years. God, he was tired of running. He wanted to settle down to one town and, perhaps, one woman. He managed to escape the Mexican police at the Texas border. He felt fairly safe, until coming across the bounty hunter, Miguel Ramirez, at the station house in Omaha. Ramirez’s sudden presence changed his original plan of going farther north. A quick departure became imperative, and the train heading
west proved his best opportunity. He had no desire to return to Sacramento where his career began, but he looked forward to reuniting with his younger brother.
He dealt with bounty hunters in his past and was fortunate enough to outwit them. If Ramirez tracked him to Omaha, he might catch up with him in the West. He had enough time on the train to consider possible ways of preventing such an event.
He came out of his contemplations when the train made another stop. The passengers were quick to debark and race to the dining hall for an even quicker meal. The time allowed for any meal at the stations consisted of a mere twenty to thirty minutes, hardly enough time to enjoy lunch or dinner. Grappling for position became paramount to elbow people out of the way to order your own meal and still have time to toss it down your throat before the whistle blew from the tracks signifying re-boarding time. Coffee cups dropped, the last bit of sandwich swallowed in a gulp, and a stampede made to reach respective boxcars. Digestive systems and tempers were equally jarred. Such was the norm if the whistle blew, and there were occasions when it did not. If the latter occurred, passengers ran pell-mell down the platform in an attempt to catch the rail of the last car.
Following the noon repast, Jared became restless. He decided to join a group in a card game in the smoking car. At least the time would pass more enjoyably and, with any luck, profitably as well. The money he might win at the card game did not act as a driving force. He was financially set for his lifetime. The sound investments he’d made over the years guaranteed his fortune.
By the end of the card game, darkness fell, the train pulled into Laramie, and he walked away from the table a winner. He got off the train and walked toward the dining hall, his gaze searching for Taryn among the group scurrying to the hall. Again, a strange guilt became his companion for having left her alone the entire day. Irritation crossed his features. He wasn’t responsible for the girl! Why did he feel as if she were his charge?
Coming into the dining hall, he glanced around. Unsuccessful in his search, he turned to leave. Then he noticed her. What he saw infuriated him. She sat with a man engaged in a lively conversation. She appeared completely at ease, smiling, then laughing at some comment the man made. At one point, her hand touched his arm. Obviously, she managed to occupy her time for the day. He should be amused. He presumed she was a shy little girl who needed looking after. Now, she seemed for all intents and purpose self-reliant, and confident. Amusing, but not much. For as much as Jared tried, he could not take his gaze from her while he ate his meal, not even aware of the beef he put into his mouth. When the whistle blew from the tracks, he paused as the two walked back to the train still in conversation. A dark scowl etched his brow, jealousy gripping him. Who was this man keeping her so animated?
Jared had seen the man talking with some of the other passengers and constantly writing with fountain pen in hand. The man couldn’t be more than twenty-five. He also gave the impression of someone who came from the tailor’s wearing a new suit of clothes. Everyone else aboard suffered a slightly unkempt look caused from the cramped quarters and dusty journey. The stranger had a tall and lanky build. A tall grasshopper with spectacles.
His scowl deepened into a glaring frown when the man offered Taryn his arm, and she accepted it. He followed them back to the train, his pace slower like a forgotten dog.
She was already in place minus her dinner companion when he reached their seat. In stark contrast to the scowl he presented, she graced him with a sweet smile.
“I enjoyed the most interesting conversation over dinner tonight.”
Her mood was light. Jared’s annoyance grew with her lack of interest with his whereabouts during the stopover.
“I was so enthralled with the conversation, I barely ate a bite.”
Annoyed with her chirpy disposition, he was harsher than he intended. “Who was he?”
She didn’t care for his tone of voice, her green eyes going a shade darker. “I don’t recall commenting on who I ate dinner with, but how the conversation was interesting.”
“It might be wise to pay more attention to those you are talking to, instead of how interesting a conversation might be.”
She took a deep breath to calm her outrage. “I resent your assumption I’m not capable of judging for myself a person’s character, Mr. King. I’m perfectly able to handle myself.”
“Like you did last night?” He lowered his voice when other passengers gave them curious glances. “You’re a woman traveling alone, and, to some, it constitutes an easy target, or do I need to make myself clearer for you, Miss Ashford?”
As the heat rose in her face, so too did the heat of her temper. “And I’m supposed to take the advice of a gunman?” Her voice lowered as well. “For your information, Mister King, and although it’s none of your business, I did know him. His name is Robert Michaels, a journalist. He is accounting the emigrants’ journey west. Our conversation concerned our experiences so far. He was a perfect gentleman, but perhaps, you’re unfamiliar with the concept.”
The muscle in his jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. Few men dared to test his temper the way this little minx did. His temper strained to its limit, his tone sharpened when he spoke. “You should know your facts before you make accusations, Miss Ashford. It only makes you look foolish and emphasizes your youth.”
Mute, fire burned in her gaze. She stared at him, stifling a sudden hostility stemming from an innocent remark.
Jared left his seat, and she was glad of his departure. She wanted him to stay away for good, and yet at the same time, she felt like bursting into tears. How had they become so angry with each other so suddenly? She was in such a wonderful mood after dinner, and then he ruined it!
“Pardon me,” a voice said interrupting her thoughts.
With a notable sigh of annoyance, Taryn turned to confront the intrusion, giving the woman standing in the aisle something short of a friendly gaze. The older woman, perhaps fifty or so, had a merry look about her emanating from her vivacious eyes. Taryn noticed her earlier in the day, happily chatting with a number of the other passengers in the same boxcar.
“May I sit?”
Taryn opened her mouth, forming the words for a response, but the woman already took a place beside her.
“I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. I’m Mrs. William Briggs. I’m moving to Sacramento. I’m recently widowed, and with my Bill’s passing, there’s nothing to keep me in Omaha. And you are?”
Taryn wasn’t particularly in the mood for conversation but found herself at a loss to do anything but answer the woman whose rattling took her off guard. “Taryn Ashford. It’s very nice meeting you Mrs. Briggs, but I would rather—”
“Mrs. Briggs…no that won’t do,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Everyone calls me Etta. Are you moving west as well?”
“No, I’m going for a short period of time to see relatives. Sacramento as well,” she offered.
“Isn’t that delightful! Have you met many other passengers aboard?” Taryn shook her head. Again, she opened her mouth to reply in the negative when Etta hurried on. “I’ll have to introduce you. I’ve met so many. Especially the ladies while their husbands are smoking their pipes and playing cards. All the comforts for the men and none for the women,” she commented, adjusting the broach decorating her blouse. “We women have to make our own, don’t we? Nothing new there.”
Taryn realized none of Etta Briggs’ questions required answers, only a willing ear.
“You’re newly married, aren’t you? I noticed your handsome husband right off. You two make a delightful couple.”
Now she must protest and set the woman straight. She shook her head in denial, but the woman mistook her reason.
“I know you may have your doubts right now,” Etta said patting her hand. “I’ll confess I couldn’t help notice the two of you were arguing. The first argument always seems so awful, but don’t you worry. Whatever the disagreement, it will right itself. You wait and see. Seeing you two
earlier made me think of my first fight with Bill after we married. Such a trivial piece of nonsense over the pattern I chose for our curtains. I laugh about it now.”
For the next hour, Taryn sat in conversation with the matron. Etta did most of the talking, telling her how delightful she found married life, ‘delightful’ being her favorite description for anything. Everything was delightful. The people, the journey, and food were all simply delightful.
On a number of occasions, Taryn attempted unsuccessfully to explain she was traveling alone and unmarried. When the opportunity did present itself, she decided against it. Telling Etta her true unmarried status presented problems. It would result in her having to make the more difficult explanation of how an unmarried woman shared sleeping arrangements with a man. The thought prevented her from correcting the misunderstanding.
Jared strolled down the aisle to find the two in conversation.
Etta stood immediately to greet him. “Mr. Ashford, so good to finally meet you. I’m Mrs. William Briggs. I’ve been having a delightful conversation with your wife.”
“Have you?” He glanced in Taryn’s direction. “And the name’s King, Jared King.”
“Oh, I am sorry,” Etta apologized, “your wife said her name was Ashford.”
Taryn cringed. She eyed him with a silent plea to eradicate the situation.
“Ashford is my wife’s maiden name, Mrs. Briggs.”
Taryn breathed a sigh of relief.
“Of course,” Etta said, her expression reflecting the confusion completely cleared up. “I remember I found it difficult using my new name as well after Bill and I married.” She turned to Taryn. “I insist on being called Etta. I’m sure we’ll all be such good friends. Well,” she said taking a breath, “I imagine I should get back to my own seat. Have a good evening.”
“It couldn’t be helped,” Taryn said in her own defense when Jared turned to her with an arched brow. “She made the assumption, and I couldn’t think of an appropriate way of explaining our situation in the evenings without the benefit of marriage.”
Untamed Hearts Page 3