by Linda Broday
Jack put an arm around her. “Doesn’t matter. We’re still standing and that’s what counts.”
“You saved me.” She shuddered, remembering the look in Guthrie’s eyes at anticipation of forcing himself on her. Then the crude, bruising kiss.
“No matter what I had to do, I wasn’t going to let him take you. Ready to go?”
She met his gray eyes, their color resembling a dove’s wing in the light. “Always, as long as it’s with you.” Then she touched her lips to his ever so softly.
Jack Bowdre was her saving grace, her light in the darkest hours.
Nine
Riders descended on them almost before Jack heard the horses’ pounding hooves. He shoved Nora into a shallow ravine and jumped in after her. They’d barely hidden themselves when a dozen riders rounded a rock formation and galloped straight for them. The sunlight glistened on their badges, and he had no need to wonder who they were.
He yanked his gun from the holster, thankful he had it to use if forced.
Barely breathing, Jack put an arm around Nora. She huddled against him, trembling, quiet. He could smell her fear, feel her heart pounding, taste her salty skin beneath his lips pressed to her temple.
The lawmen scanned the area as they slowly rode through. Jack shrank against the dirt wall around them, willing the men to move on.
But one yelled that he’d seen movement, and they stopped no more than ten yards away.
A big spider crawled across Jack’s arm and dropped onto Nora. She gasped but, by some miracle, didn’t whimper or shriek before he quickly flicked it off.
One of the lawmen reached for his rifle. “I know Bowdre’s around here. I can smell him.”
“He’s a slippery one, but we’ll soon have him boxed in,” said another.
“After the grief he’s caused us over the years, when I find him, I’m going to put a bullet in his damn head. He’ll never make it to a judge, and there’ll be no need for a trial.” The speaker was a thin man not much older than Jack, his face set in hard lines.
Deputy U.S. Marshal Seamus Belew.
Jack had crossed paths with the crooked lawman a handful of times and come out the winner. A vein throbbed in Jack’s neck. One day, he’d end their association. Had to be that way.
“Execution is not what we do, Belew,” the leader admonished quietly.
“He killed my brother,” Belew snapped. “I’ll not rest until he’s dead.”
The air crackled with jagged currents. Jack’s breathing became shallow, every nerve taut. Time crept by at a snail’s pace. He made no sound. Belew dropped from the saddle to scour the brush above them. Jack held Nora tightly against him and pressed to the side of the ravine.
After what seemed like hours, Belew mounted up and the hunters rode on.
“They’re gone.” Jack released Nora. “That was close.”
“I’ve never been so scared. I just knew they’d find us. Belew really wants you dead.”
“Yeah, let’s move out. We’ll have to be even more careful from now on.” Belew wasn’t going to give up until he caught him. The man would dog Jack’s trail until he ran him to ground.
Jack noticed two buttons missing from Nora’s dress and wondered when that had happened, but he didn’t ask. Probably the rigors of walking up and down hills, ravines, and gullies, and roping cows. He tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear and brushed her cheek with a knuckle. “You look a sight, Nora. This has taken a toll on you.”
“No worse than it has you.” She trapped his hand on her cheek with her fingers. “We both look like we’ve been dragged behind a horse ten ways to Sunday.”
“I am sorry. Maybe you should try to find the posse and let them take you to town.”
“No.” Her eyes sought his. “I’m staying. I’m your almost-wife, and my place is with you.”
Jack smiled, and suddenly the day wasn’t as gloomy as it had appeared.
They walked for what seemed like forty miles, although it couldn’t have been more than fifteen. Each step Jack took felt as if the bone in his leg was poking clear through the skin. It was all he could do to hold back a cry of agony. Despite his pain, he kept a close eye on Nora. Guthrie had really shaken her. She’d trembled like a newborn calf when he’d held her, and rattlesnakes and rats aside, it took a lot to scare this woman.
“How are you holding up?” He put his hands around her waist and lifted her over a patch of thorns, grimacing at the cost to his leg.
“Except for being hungry, I’m fine, Jack. It’s you I’m worried about. We should stop.”
Her concern touched him. No woman since Rachel had ever given two hoots for his welfare. He’d missed having someone to care about and fuss over him.
He took her hand. “Soon. I promise. I’d like to make it to the river first.”
“Why the river?”
“Food. Water. And the crumbling ruins of a place there that will hide the smoke of a fire.”
Nora nodded. “Then the river it is. I just pray we last.”
That made two of them. Jack picked up a sturdy stick about the right length, and they began the last leg of the day’s trek, keeping a wary eye out for the posse.
The landscape, comprised of mostly rock formations, gullies, and ravines, became treacherous at times, each mile a struggle. Hungry and weak, they needed too many stops to rest. They’d only found a few roots and had eaten the tender white end of yucca leaves. It’d taken quite a bit of coaxing for Nora to try them, but hunger had won out. Bottom line—this was the wrong time of the year for a mad dash across the wide-open prairie.
He thought of the gray gelding and wished they could’ve found the animal. The horse would’ve made a huge difference. Jack glanced up at the buzzards circling overhead. They were just biding their time until Jack and Nora fell, then they’d swoop in and pick their bones clean.
Nora shaded her eyes and followed his gaze. “What are those birds doing?”
“Waiting. For us.”
“To die?” Her eyes widened as she licked her dry lips.
“Yep.”
When the sparkling blue river finally came into view, he breathed a damn sight easier. Nora took off running the last ten yards with Jack hobbling behind. They lay on their bellies and scooped water into their mouths. Jack dunked his head in the refreshing current.
They’d made it this far at least. He raised up and glanced around. The ruins he remembered had to be over in the high tangle of brush, assuming they were still there. He’d holed up in them once after getting shot. Clay Colby had found him then and saved his life. Over the years of riding the trail together, they’d become as close as brothers. What he wouldn’t give for Clay and Ridge Steele to come riding up about now with saddlebags full of food.
Jack stood and scanned the area, listening, then moved toward the brush, his duster slapping against his legs.
“Where are you going?” Nora jerked upright. “We just got here, Jack.”
“I have to find us a place to hide.”
“I’m coming too.” She lifted her skirt and waded into the thorny foliage as though it were high tide on Galveston Bay. Her gaze was in constant motion, apparently looking for four-legged predators, ready to bolt if something leaped out.
But she was getting better at adapting; he’d give her that.
He waited and helped her navigate the waist-high thicket. “Best I can recall, it’s right over here a bit.”
They pushed through the jungle of bare boughs, yucca, and thistle, and there it was. The little that remained of the crumbling sod walls with a small portion of sagging roof would shelter them for the night.
Jack gave her a wry smile. “It’s not the fancy hotel I know you wish for, but it’ll protect us. You can stay here and rest.”
She gave him a startled glance. “And where will you be?”
&nbs
p; “Fishing. With any luck, we’ll eat well tonight. If you can find a flat rock to cook on, that would be very helpful. Just be careful. The snakes are waking from hibernation.”
“Great. What if I come with you? I’ve never seen anyone fish using nothing.”
The yearning in her face bruised something deep inside him. Jack figured she hadn’t had much quality companionship, except what little she got from Flynn O’Brien and their dice and card games. Hell of a thing, living in fear.
It might be best to stay together in case of trouble.
“Come on, then, but you have to be quiet.” He draped an arm around her neck and couldn’t miss her big smile.
Everything had gone to pot in his life lately, but Nora Kane felt right being next to him. He’d gotten used to having her near so quickly that he had trouble remembering when she hadn’t been. This was the kind of feeling he could see lasting forever.
Only one thing was wrong. Jack no longer believed in forever.
* * *
A cold breeze blew from the north, and Nora pulled her coat closer around her as she sat down on the riverbank. Jack removed his duster, rolled up one sleeve, and squatted to dip a hand in the rippling current.
“Remember. Don’t talk or move around.” His soft voice was markedly different from the way he’d spoken to Darius Guthrie.
Irritation crawled up her spine and stiffened her words. “I’m not a child.”
“Nope. I doubt I’ll forget that. I didn’t mean to belittle you.”
“I know.” She watched his every movement. “I’m just hungry and tired.”
He peered intently into the blue water for several minutes, then stretched out on his belly. He eased his arm down past his elbow and held perfectly still. The minutes passed silently by as Nora waited for something to happen. She wondered if Jack had pulled a trick on the dumb New Yorker. But from everything she’d seen, he didn’t appear that kind, and he was as hungry as she.
Jack seemed to do everything by the order in his head—safety, water, food, shelter.
While he was occupied and couldn’t turn his piercing gray eyes on her, she took the liberty of admiring his long, muscular legs, trim waist, and tight backside. Her stomach quickened. He must have his pick of women. So why wasn’t he already taken? Maybe being on the run had kept him too busy.
Suddenly, Jack swung his arm and flung water on the bank. “Dammit. Missed him.”
Nora smiled encouragement. “It appeared close from what I could tell.”
No answering smile came. He stood. “I’ll move down the river a bit. Coming?”
“Lead the way.”
A few yards from where they had been, Jack stretched out again and slid his arm into the water with barely a ripple. Now she had the gist of it but still wondered at the quick reflexes this kind of fishing required. Her stomach rumbled. She’d have to eat something soon or gnaw on a piece of cactus.
The waiting began again, and her stomach refused to be quiet. Jack raised his head and glared, to which she shrugged her shoulders.
The sun disappeared behind a cloud, and Nora found the March day suddenly very cold.
In the silence that crowded out her thoughts, time seemed to have stopped. The day had turned even gloomier while they waited, the sky gray, the wind picking up.
An abrupt thrashing about snapped her attention back to Jack. Water splashed out onto the bank, and a large fish landed in Nora’s lap. She let out a yell and jumped up. The fish stared at her through angry, sullen eyes, flopping in the dead grass like line-drying clothes on a blustery day.
“Get it!” Jack hollered. “Don’t let it get back in the water.”
Nora tackled the wet, slimy thing, trapping it against the ground with her body. Now what? A sudden icy chill raced through her as the fish wiggled against her bare skin.
She let out a sharp cry and leaped up, flinging her arms. “Oh, Jack, it’s inside my dress! Help me, Jack. Get it out!”
Jack knelt, sliding his hands through the open folds of her coat and into her dress. His fingers probed against her flesh.
She gasped. “Jack Bowdre! That is not the fish.”
“Sorry.” He jerked back. “I didn’t mean to touch you.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
Nora blew a curl from one eye. “I don’t know. I just want it out.” The fish appeared as desperate to escape her dress as she was to have it gone, but in trying to escape, it settled deeper and deeper into the wool folds.
Wiggling. Twisting. Flapping its tail.
She danced in a circle, clawing at her dress. “Help me, Jack! Oh God, help me!”
“You’ll have to stand still.”
“I can’t. It feels worse than a snake. Oh God, oh God, oh God!”
Jack took her arm. “Be still a moment.”
“Oh, this is slimy! I can’t.” She grabbed it with both hands, her dress between her and the catfish. “I’ve got it trapped. Slide your hand inside and get it. Please, Jack.”
“Just remember, this was your idea.” Very carefully, he slid his hand down into her dress until he could touch the fish. “Now release your hold. I have it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Only then did she remove her grip on the fish and Jack carefully pulled it out. The thing glared at her, its mouth gaping open. She could barely feel her hunger now and was ready to just forget eating. It wouldn’t hurt her to lose a few pounds anyway.
“Thank you, Jack.”
“I think you might’ve killed it.”
“Then I saved you the chore. I’ll look for that flat rock you need.” She hurried back to their hideout, anxious to evade Jack’s gaze. He’d touched her in places no one had.
While Jack cleaned the fish with the knife he’d taken from Guthrie, she found the right size rock and got a fire going. Then she slipped off to a secluded spot on the river and rinsed the fish smell out of her dress and off her skin. She put her coat on over her undergarments and buttoned it. Then when she was back at the campsite, she flung her dress over the bushes to dry and warmed herself by the fire. She missed the added warmth of her dress, but at least it wouldn’t stink. Even if she froze, she just couldn’t take that fish smell.
By the time they’d filled their empty bellies, night had fallen. Jack disappeared for a while and returned with his arms full of branches from a scrub oak.
“Our bed.” He arranged the branches on one side of the fire.
“Lovely. Thank you.”
“Better than the hard ground.” He sat down on a cedar stump.
Nora glanced across the low flames at Jack. He hadn’t said a word about the fish incident, and she thought that maybe he’d felt something too.
The flickering light deepened the haunting shadows in his eyes.
What did such a man think about? Did memories haunt him? Did he see the faces of each man he’d killed? She couldn’t imagine the torment. From her observations, Jack wasn’t like most. He seemed to feel remorse deep in his soul.
Her dime novels had never spoken of this subject. Killing had been glorified and impersonal. She could see how wrong those authors had been. Very wrong.
Out here in the wilds of Texas, every life seemed to matter—even the rotten men’s.
To some degree anyway—at least with Jack.
“Did you get full?” His voice was low, his face dark.
“Couldn’t hold another bite. Maybe I was just hungry, but it tasted good.” Nora leaned back, trying to judge his mood. “You know, I haven’t had one day in the last ten years when I wasn’t afraid. Until now. You’re a good man, Jack, and I don’t care what the law says. Inside your heart, you’re a decent man and I feel safe when I’m with you.”
He gave a soft snort. “And that’s why you’re sitting so far
away? Because you trust me?”
“You don’t seem to want me over there. You’ve taken turns glaring at me and the sky.”
“It’s not you.” He let out a low curse. “Sometimes I’m not fit company, but I miss having you next to me. I got used to the sound of your breathing and now it’s not there.”
“Same here.” Nora, too, felt as though something was missing after the closeness of the last two days. She rose, skirted the fire, and dropped down next to him. “We’re a sad-looking pair, you know that?”
“Yep.” Jack slid an arm around her and she snuggled against his warmth. “This is much better. You shouldn’t have washed your dress this close to darkness. It won’t dry unless we find a way to bring it closer to the fire.”
“I couldn’t help it. I wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink smelling that fish.”
Without a word, Jack rose and fashioned a rack by the fire out of four sturdy cedar limbs stuck into the ground and spread the dress out. Her heart warmed that he saw to her comfort. Not what she’d expected of an outlaw.
“That should do it.” He sat back down and drew her close. The fire popped and crackled in the long silence and some animal howled in the distance. Finally, he spoke. “Tell me more about your life.”
Nora rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ve already told you. What more do you want to know?”
“I want to hear about when you were happy. The things you dreamed of in the still of the night when life was good.”
“My parents didn’t have much. My papa was a poor fisherman, but he loved my mama. He would kiss her each time he left the house, then again when he came back. They kissed all the time. I slept in a loft above the parlor and I’d lie there and listen to them whispering to each other. I never heard what they said, but those private whispers made me feel cherished.” She glanced up at the firelight flickering across Jack’s face. “I know that sounds silly, but I felt so safe and loved.”
“Not silly at all.” Jack rested his chin atop her head.
Nora laid her hand on his chest and took comfort from the vibration of his voice when he spoke. “Papa would take me with him fishing sometimes, but I never liked to touch the fish. I hated that slimy skin. I always told him I should’ve been a boy, and I still remember what he said.”