Caught in the Middle (Ladies of Caldwell County Book #3)

by Regina Jennings

  Nick worked his shoulder, wincing from the injury. “I won’t bully you. What would be the use of taking Sammy when you could snatch him from the Hollands as soon as we leave town? No, I’m here to persuade you to do what’s right. I won’t hide you. I won’t help you escape, but I want to be with you. I want to help you find the truth through this.”

  “You aren’t going to fight me, and you aren’t going to help me? Sounds like a thankless job.”

  “Sometimes the most important ones are.” His shoulder burned. Gingerly, he prodded through his ripped coat and touched the warmth of his own blood. He shuddered. “I’ve never been attacked by a bear on the streets of Garber.”

  “Should’ve stayed there.” Anne holstered her pistol.

  Nick could finally swallow. “Why would anyone think it was a good idea to lie still and take a bear attack?”

  “It might work on a grizzly. They don’t want any challengers in their territory. If you aren’t a threat, they’ll leave you alone. Black bears are different. If they attack, it’s because they’re looking for dinner.”

  “And I was making her job easy for her?”

  Anne shrugged. “You wouldn’t live long out here.” She pulled a knife from her belt.

  Nick’s eyes widened. “Exactly how angry are you about last night?”

  “Put your eyeballs back in your noggin. We need breakfast and there’s some fresh bear meat available. I’m hungry and so is Sammy.”

  Nicholas was, too, now that he thought about it. Eat or be eaten. Life out here boiled down to two possible outcomes.

  She set Sammy down beside her and didn’t seem to mind his tugging on the bear’s shaggy pelage. Twisting, she pulled her canteen strap over her head. “Seeing how you probably want me to cook for you, would you mind filling this? The stream you just crossed is clean.”

  “Sounds like a fair trade.”

  “I’ll make enough to get you back to the depot on a full stomach.”

  So she was handing out the orders now? The reversal of their situation amused him . . . would’ve amused him had there not been so much at stake.

  The pinecones made good tinder. Anne blew gently on the flame until it stretched up to embrace the sticks. In a few minutes the fire burned steady enough for her to balance the spit of bear meat over the center. Crouched by the fire, she listened for what the woods could tell her. Birdsong was plentiful, letting her know that no predators were detected in the area. The pine needles brushed high overhead. The wind was changing. Finding shelter for the night would be essential if it turned cold, and it sounded like it might.

  Anne rotated the spit and then propped the brace arm with a fourth stone when it wobbled. Sammy played contentedly in the dirt, digging up handfuls and then dropping them from high and watching the clay bounce on the ground.

  It’d be hard going for her and Sammy over the next few days. Once she got to McAlester she knew of a place where they could ride out the winter—a crew of trappers who’d let her stay in their bunkhouse, but that meant skirting past Atoka, where the fuming Deputy Puckett lurked. Surely he wouldn’t expect her to head directly toward him. As long as she stayed away from town and left no tracks, hiding under his nose might be her best option. But what would she do with Nick?

  The bear she was cooking didn’t scare her nearly as much as the turmoil in her heart. She’d trusted Nick, followed his instructions, and he’d turned against her. All this time Anne had thought her insecurities were their biggest obstacle, but when she’d set them aside, she found that Nick didn’t want her after all. Never again would he get the chance.

  And even more important than his rejection, she couldn’t let Nick slow her down. That’s why he was there, wasn’t it? To delay her progress until Joel could catch up with them. If that bear hadn’t attacked him, she would’ve never come out of hiding. She wrinkled her brow. But what if she hadn’t intervened? A city boy like him had no business trekking through the forest without a guide.

  He was bound to get hurt . . . and maybe he deserved to. He’d kissed her. Really kissed her, and it wasn’t just a friendly exchange or even a flirtation. He’d seemed sincere, but he’d seemed equally sincere when he told her he wouldn’t marry her—a fact he should’ve mentioned before the kissing.

  Anne threw another stick in the fire. Marrying Nick had seemed possible. He was easy to talk to, easy to work with—he was even easy to fight with—but the kissing showed her that he wouldn’t be content with a shell of a wife. He would want someone less damaged, whole, healthy. He wouldn’t want a woman like her.

  She heard him approach before she saw him—you’d have to be deaf to miss the limbs snapping and the pinecones crunching as he fought his way between two evergreens. How could he navigate a dinner party yet not know to walk around a tree instead of through it? She watched the fire, ignoring him for as long as possible.

  “Would you mind looking at this?” he asked.

  Anne turned and wished she hadn’t. Naked from the waist up, Nick stood before her with his shirt and coat in one hand. He shivered once, sending an uncomfortably defined ripple across his chest. The goose bumps on his arms had the blond hairs standing on end. Much as hers had when they’d kissed. She hopped up and away.

  “I will not look at you, you conceited fop. Prancing around here half-dressed like a pale Indian—”

  “The bear scratch, Anne. Look at the wound and tell me if it’s clean.”

  How could he sound so reasonable? Anne’s face burned. She was already addled over Sammy’s situation. She didn’t need him multiplying her confusion.

  “Turn around.” She bit her lip. His stocky shoulders were just as disconcerting as the front of him. “Bend down.”

  “Can I sit by the fire? I’m cold.”

  Evidently he took silence for approval. Patting Sammy’s head as he passed, Nick sat by the fire and draped his arms over his bent legs. “It doesn’t feel very deep, but I don’t want to leave any hair or dirt in it.”

  She shoved her hands into her pockets and leaned as close as she could from five feet away. “It looks fine the best I can tell.”

  Nick twisted to peer at her from over his shoulder. “Could you tell any better from closer?”

  Anne scrunched her nose. The three parallel gashes were deeper than he’d let on, but they probably wouldn’t need stitching. He shivered again. So did she. Might as well get it over with so he’d cover up.

  She pushed her duster back so she could hunch down behind him. Sure enough, a couple of coarse black hairs were visible along the cut skin, and dark flecks of dirt were stuck in the blood. Anne eased her hand on his shoulder to steady him . . . or herself . . . she wasn’t sure which. His skin was cool and firm beneath her touch. But she wouldn’t think of that. She’d concentrate on picking out the dirt.

  She teased the hair out of the crease with her fingernail, pressed the pad of her finger into the cut, and lifted the hair out. She picked out the more stubborn flecks of dirt and winced at every contact.

  “Touching dead meat doesn’t bother me as much,” she said.

  He chuckled low. “We wouldn’t want you to get bothered.”

  Only then did she realize how tightly she was holding on to his shoulder with her free hand.

  He tensed beneath her grasp as she dug deep for the last piece of debris. Satisfied there was nothing remaining, she released him.

  “I don’t have a pot to boil water in, and I can’t afford to give up any of Sammy’s diapers.”

  “It’s already starting to throb,” Nick said. “But I have a feeling it might for days.”

  “You’ll have to get it looked after when you get back to town.”

  Anne emptied her canteen over her fingers and scrubbed them before picking Sammy up. She hid behind the child, not daring to raise her eyes until Nick had finished buttoning his bloodstained shirt.

  Her mouth watered at the meat’s savory aroma. Anne held her knife in the flames to clean it, and then sawed into the hunk of
meat to see if it was cooked through. Finding a flat stone, she set the meat on the rock and sawed off some shavings for Sammy. The greasy meat wouldn’t be easy for Sammy to chew. What a pickle. She’d just learned to care for a child in town only to find that providing for one away from civilization required a whole other set of skills.

  She’d chew it up for him. Mrs. Puckett wouldn’t approve, but Anne couldn’t let him choke.

  Anne sawed the meat in two and handed Nicholas a chunk.

  “It’s definitely fresh.” Nick made a face as she ground a piece between her molars and spit it into her hand.

  “It’s not as tender as I’d like for Sammy, but it’ll do.” She gave Sammy the mashed-up food, which he immediately popped into his mouth. Nick had bowed his head over his food. She took another bite. Since when had he taken his religion so seriously? Maybe that bear had delivered hellfire and brimstone better than a brush-arbor evangelist.

  He lifted his head and scrutinized her over his dinner. “I was thinking about something you said a few weeks ago. At church you said I only followed God because I’d never been tested. Well, you were right. Up to that point, doing the right thing had always been beneficial. If you hadn’t identified my misled expectations, I might not have had the courage to oppose the Stanfords.” Holding the meat between one finger and his thumb, he bit off a piece before continuing. “You saw right through to my weakness, and it makes me wonder . . . what’s God telling you about this situation?”

  Anne wiped her sleeve across her mouth. “I’m praying about it. He knows what I want.”

  “But will you do what He wants, no matter what that is?”

  “Why do you want to know my plans? So you can help hunt me down?”

  “You did a fine job of caring for Sammy in town, but you had Mrs. Puckett to help you. You had a safe home and meals ready when you came home every day. I have to wonder if you’ll find it as easy to earn a living and watch him at the same time.”

  Her neck tightened at the unfairness of his appraisal. She’d done her best to find a father for Sammy, but no point in reminding him. “I have savings set by. After Jay died I sold the farm and invested some of the money in my gear, horse, and tackle. I sold most of that back to Anoli. Living out here doesn’t take much money, and I have enough to last for a spell.”

  “That’s what you needed to talk to Anoli about? Money and getting that brute to hide Sammy and help you escape?”

  “You’re the one who needs help, not me. So go back home before I lose my patience.” The bloodstain on his shirt hadn’t dried yet, and here he was pretending to know what was best for her.

  She gave Sammy a last bite of bear meat and noticed that his eyes were already drooping. She’d fashion a sling out of her spare set of clothes and tie him over her shoulder. Hopefully she could cover some ground before his afternoon nap was over and he grew restless again.

  “I’m staying with you.” Nick produced a handkerchief and cleaned his fingers.

  “No.”

  “You have a gun. If you could dispatch the bear, you shouldn’t have any trouble getting rid of me.”

  “So I’d have to shoot you to get you to leave me alone?” Anne ripped another mouthful of meat off the spit and took time to consider that option. “It’s no good. I’d be wanted for murder, and with my history I’d be hanged sure enough. I guess you’re free to travel wherever you’d like . . . just as I am. But if you hinder me—”

  “Sounds fair.”

  The sight of Nick disheveled and bloody didn’t fit with the rich voice she’d become so familiar with in the office. The wilderness wasn’t his realm, and it unsettled her to see him there.

  “Why does this matter so much to you?” She took another bite. “Sammy isn’t your kin. You don’t know his family. What’s this got to do with you?”

  “I’m not here for Sammy. I’m here for you. If you make this mistake, you’ll be a wanted criminal. You’ll be throwing away your future.”

  “What future? I’m alone. I’m unwanted. Sammy is the only chance I have for a family or for someone to love. I understand if you don’t want to be involved, but don’t begrudge me his company, too.”

  She stood and kicked dirt over the fire to smother the coals. Why couldn’t he mind his own business? Just like on the train when he interjected for that prissy lady. No matter. Nick would tire of the game. Already injured, he wouldn’t have the stamina to persist. By nightfall he’d be asking directions to the nearest inn, if he made it that long.

  Anne looped her canteen over her neck.

  “Is it empty again?” Nick carefully shrugged into his battered coat.

  “There’s another creek just ahead.” She pulled her second shirt out of her knapsack and tied the arms together. She ducked her head through the circle and pulled it over one of her arms as well.

  She turned to find Sammy. Her throat clutched when she saw him in Nick’s arms, but he wasn’t fleeing.

  “I promised you.” Nick held her gaze.

  Anne swallowed down her protest. He handed her the boy, and she wrapped him tightly in his baby blanket, tucking the ends inside each other until he was as cozy as a papoose. Then she slid his cocoon into the torso of the shirt, leaving the narrow laced-up neck lowered so he couldn’t slip out. Nestled against her, supported by her arm but with his weight distributed around her back, she was ready to travel. They were moving closer to Atoka, and she wouldn’t rest until their trail shied away from the area.

  With a last scan of the campsite—the fire and the bear both dead—she placed her feet on the overgrown path and followed it until it crested the next mountain.

  22

  Never in his life had Nicholas walked so long without seeing another human being—the only exception being the slight form in front of him and the child she juggled as she crossed mile after mile of wilderness.

  Sammy whined and flailed against Anne’s hold. After a healthy nap he’d fought to be released from his wraps. Anne had freed him from the sling and from his diaper. It didn’t take long toddling half naked in the cold air for Sammy to relieve himself, then she bundled him back up, but he wasn’t ready to relinquish his freedom. Every step since, Anne either wrestled to keep him from shoving out of her arms or held his hand, allowing him to take his slow and patient steps.

  Nick choked back an offer for the hundredth time. Even with his wound, carrying the boy on his shoulders would be simple, but he wouldn’t ease her way. If she chose this path she needed to understand how difficult it would be. Besides, with Sammy riding high on Nick’s shoulders, the low-hanging tree limbs would probably scratch him. They’d already shredded Nick’s nice coat into ribbons. Twigs and debris tangled in the broken threads. His eyes flickered over Anne’s form. Nothing got to her through her duster and her buckskins. As impervious as a coat of armor.

  The fresh pine lifted his spirits. Hard to believe back in Garber they were announcing the winner of the election. The newspaper would print the official tallies. People would either be looking for him to congratulate or wondering how he’d lost to a latecomer.

  What were Ian and Ophelia doing? Were they toasting their success with Philip Walton, or were they gnashing their teeth and planning his overthrow? Somehow neither scenario seemed to bother him from his current location.

  Nick estimated they had only an hour or two of daylight left. How she could keep going while carrying her bag, her guns, and Sammy, he didn’t know. Must be pure determination propelling her onward.

  Anne lost her footing and slid backwards a couple of feet. Nick placed his hand on her back to steady her.

  “Thank you.” She didn’t turn around.

  Sammy waved at him and pounded on her shoulder, his emphatic jabbering making it clear he expected Nick to rescue him.

  “Sammy boy, you hang on tight. Miss Anne doesn’t need you making her way more difficult.”

  “He calls me Momma.” Anne grasped a branch to pull herself up a steep passage. “And there’s no use
in changing that.”

  Nick took the rise in two vertical steps. “Well, Momma, may I inquire what exactly you have in mind for you and your son?”

  “There you go again. I’m not telling you anything.”

  Nick grasped her elbow as she took the next step, propelling her further up the mountain before he followed behind. “Be as vague as you’d like—no locations, no names. I suppose you have family to help you?”

  Her dry chuckle possessed no humor. “None that I’d call on.”

  “But you must have a lot of friends in this area, people who’d help you.”

  “The buffalo don’t like the forest. They tend to roam the prairie just to the west. I’ve been through here a few times . . .” Her eyes followed the trail down the mountain they’d just climbed. “Are you dropping bread crumbs, too?”

  “If I had any I’d eat them.”

  “Well you’re leaving a path so obvious that even Deputy Puckett could find us blindfolded.”

  Nick looked behind him but saw only trees and leaves. “I’m just walking, trying to keep up with you.”

  Anne removed her hat and buried her hand in her mass of curls. “I thought you could tag along, but you swath a path as big as your trains and are just as loud. This has got to stop. You can’t go with us. There’s no way I can hide with you.”

  She almost sounded regretful. Could she still think they had a chance together? Could she ever forgive him for the stand he had to take?

  “I’m not ready to say good-bye.” Nick squared his shoulders.

  Anne looked across the hills. “Then I’ll send word when I get somewhere safe, after I’ve had a chance to settle.” She turned to him. “That’s the best I can offer, but we have to part ways.”

  Not yet, Lord. Nick wasn’t ready for this showdown. Didn’t God understand what a struggle this was for her? Couldn’t He give them more time before requiring this sacrifice of her? Of himself?

  With a lump of coal in his throat, he spoke words he wasn’t ready to say. “I haven’t always been patient with you. I haven’t been understanding at times, and I’ve been wrong. You’ve matured since you came to Garber, but I can’t play a role in this. You love Sammy. I know that. But if you take this child from his family, you won’t see me again. This will be our farewell.” He swallowed. “I don’t want it to be our farewell.”