She blinked, obviously befuddled. Confusion must run in the family.
“Then I bid you good day.” Hiding a smile, he tipped the Stetson and walked back to the stock car. Renny had already been unloaded. As he tossed a coin to the hostler, he saw the buggy disappearing down the road at a rapid clip. Fleeing, would be more accurate. Much too fast in a lightweight buggy on a rocky country road. He could guess who was driving.
With a mental shrug, he put the woman and her amusing antics out of his mind and quickly saddled the big buckskin, securing his saddlebags behind the cantle with the fiddle case on top.
If he left now, he could make it to Heartbreak Creek in time for dinner. His meeting with Tait Rylander and his wife—the two principals in charge of the Pueblo Pacific bridge line through Heartbreak Creek Canyon—wasn’t until morning. Apparently there were issues with both the right-of-ways and the sluice bringing water from deeper in the canyon. The railroad had sent Ethan in to identify the problems, eliminate them, and get the surveyors back to work so the graders could get started.
He figured it was a two-week job.
A half hour later, he was on his way, Renny stepping out at a fast gait, obviously as happy as Ethan to be off the train. It was a beautiful afternoon with the clarity that only came in early spring before summer’s dust hazed the sky. The mountains still wore caps of white, and the breeze was cool and heavy with the scent of wet earth and new grass. The freshness of it raised Ethan’s spirits and helped dispel the melancholy that always plagued him after a restless, dream filled night.
He had ridden no more than an hour when he saw a familiar black buggy stopped in the road ahead, the back tilted at an odd angle. As he drew nearer, he saw Miss Audra seated on the mounting step beside the open door, shoulders slumped, head drooping in her hands. A sad picture, indeed. The others were some distance away, enjoying a rest under a long-limbed fir. Even from thirty yards, he could clearly hear the badger barking.
“If it isn’t Miss Audra,” he called cheerily as he reined in beside the disabled buggy.
Dropping her hands, she squinted up at him through red-rimmed eyes.
She must require spectacles, he decided. No one would wear that expression without good reason.
“It’s you,” she said in a tone as welcoming as a stepmother’s kiss.
For some perverse reason, he found that amusing. “It is. I see you’ve broken a wheel. How unfortunate.”
She stiffened. “You find that amusing?”
“Not at all.”
“Then why are you grinning?”
“Actually, I was trying for a smirk.”
She gave a snort that ended in a sniffle. Then another. Horrified she was about to cry, Ethan softened his tone. “May I offer assistance? Again.”
Shoving back a wad of hair that had slipped from her matronly topknot, she regarded him through eyes that were suspiciously wet. “Do you have a gun?”
Surprised, he nodded. “I do.”
“Then shoot me, please. I have reached my limit. Not in the head or face, mind you. I wouldn’t want to look a mess in the undertaker’s picture. Here in the heart will be fine.” She placed a hand over the bosom he so admired.
Leaning forward, he crossed his arms over the saddle horn. “Having a bad day, are we, Miss Audra?”
Her top lip curled in a sneer, marring an otherwise lovely mouth. “Armed and astute. A potent combination.”
Potent? How gratifying that she had noticed.
“Well, get on with it.” Closing her eyes, she hiked her chin in a martyr’s pose. “I await your pleasure.”
Even better. Several pleasurable scenarios came to mind, but he knew better than to voice them. “And the others? Shall I shoot them, too? I could start with the dog, if you’d like.”
She actually seemed to consider it.
“Or I could simply replace the broken wheel.”
Her eyes flew open. “You can do that?”
“I can. Assuming that’s a spare wheel I see strapped to the bottom of the buggy and you don’t mind untying the luggage on the back.”
Hopping to her feet, she bent over to peer under the vehicle, this time hiking her skirts high enough to reveal trim ankles and rounded calves. “Good heavens! I had no idea that was under there.”
“Nor I,” he murmured, musing on what other delights might be hidden beneath that drab gray skirt.
“Excellent.” She straightened, shoved the hair back again and gave him a smile that lit up her face in an unexpectedly alluring way. “What can I do to help?”
Very little, it turned out, but that was due more to a lack of strength than a lack of enthusiasm. If the woman had been as strong physically as her personality was forceful, she could have held up the wagon with one hand while he replaced the wheel.
Instead, he used the biggest boulder he could carry, a sturdy three-foot log to brace under the axle, and a long, stout pole to lever the buggy off the ground—luckily Curtis had packed an axe. Once the buggy was unloaded and the wheels chalked, Ethan positioned the rock a foot behind the rear panel, slipped two feet of the long pole beneath the undercarriage and pushed down with all his strength on the part extending past the rock.
The buggy rose. Curtis slipped the brace under the axle, and from then on, it was simply a matter of exchanging the broken wheel for the spare. Thankfully the women hovered close by, poised to offer helpful tips in case he somehow lost the ability to reason or forgot what he was doing. God bless them.
Soon—even with their help—the new wheel was in place. While Winnie supervised Curtis in the reloading of the luggage, Ethan lashed the broken wheel beneath the buggy then rose, almost bumping into Miss Audra, who had bent down beside him to inspect his knots.
“You’re sure it’s tight enough?”
Ethan’s gaze drifted down her bowed back to the round, pear-shaped bottom pointed his way. “I have no doubt of it.”
“Excellent.” She straightened. “For the second time, I owe you my thanks, Mr. . . .”
“Ethan Hardesty.” He touched the brim of his hat. “And you’re quite welcome, Miss Audra. Both times.”
“Pearsall. My proper name is—oh, dear!”
Turning to see what had captured her attention, he saw her father dunking the dog in a puddle of stagnant water beside the road. Ethan refrained from applauding.
“Father, we’re ready to go now,” she called, rushing toward him.
Propping a hip against the rear wheel, Ethan crossed his arms over his chest and watched her tuck the dripping pooch under her arm then gently steer her father toward the coach. He admired her patience. The woman truly did have her hands full with this scatterbrained bunch, yet she hadn’t once lost her composure . . . except with him, of course, but since that had been his intent, he didn’t hold it against her.
“Where are you headed, Miss Pearsall?” he asked once she’d loaded her father into the buggy and placed the dog, wrapped in the robe, in his arms. He caught a whiff of swamp and was thankful to be riding outside.
“Not far.” Backing out, she blew that errant lock of brownish gold hair out of her eyes and waved the two Africans to their places—Winnie in back with the old man, Curtis up front on the far side of the driver’s box. “A town called Heartbreak Creek.”
“Oh? What a coincidence.”
“You’re going there, too?” Surprised, she turned to face him.
He almost choked.
She was wet. From collar to waist. And cold, judging by the puckered nubs straining against the damp fabric that clung to every rounded curve.
He owed the dog an apology.
“I am,” he said, tearing his gaze away before she caught him again.
“Excellent. Now we can travel together.”
Not excellent. He didn’t want to have to rescue her at every turn. Or feel responsible for her. Or wonder what catastrophe might befall her next. He didn’t need a woman like Miss Audra Pearsall complicating his life.
But she was a beautiful
woman.
And two years was a long time.
And he was weary of the night terrors, and awakening to the sound of breaking glass, and reaching for his gun to stop the screams echoing through his mind. It would be nice to feel something other than self-loathing for a change, to be near a woman and not hear those screams in his head.
Just for a while.
So he said nothing. Swinging up on Renny, he waved the woman to follow, and headed down the road to Heartbreak Creek, feeling better than he had since the walls at Rincon Point had shattered around him.
Thanks to . . .
Nancy Coffey, my insightful agent, whose encouragement is invaluable.
The staff at Berkley (especially my editor, Wendy McCurdy) who always works so hard to make me look great.
Theresa Rizzo and John Brooks for information on avalanches and snow survival.
Cyndi Thomson, who is always there to listen, and cry, and laugh on cue.
My daughter, Sara Straley—friend, website administrator, and all around amazing woman.
My wonderful readers, whose kind emails and encouraging words keep me going.
And, of course, Joe . . .
Thank you all.
***
Click here for more books by Kaki Warner
Kaki Warner is an award-winning author and longtime resident of the Pacific Northwest. Although she now lives on the eastern slopes of the Cascade Mountains in Washington, Kaki actually grew up in the Southwest and is a proud graduate of the University of Texas. Kaki spends her time gardening, hiking, reading, writing, and soaking in the view from the deck of her hilltop cabin with her husband and floppy-eared hound dog.
If you enjoyed MIRACLE IN NEW HOPE, don’t miss Kaki Warner’s
Runaway Brides series, featuring four unlikely brides who make their way west—and find love where they least expect it . . .
HEARTBREAK CREEK
COLORADO DAWN
BRIDE OF THE HIGH COUNTRY
Available now from Berkley Sensation
Berkley Sensation titles by Kaki Warner
Runaway Brides Novels
Heartbreak Creek
Colorado Dawn
Bride of the High Country
Blood Rose Trilogy
Pieces of Sky
Open Country
Chasing the Sun
Kaki Warner Page 14