by Karen Kirst
Evan was saying good-night to Henry, who looked tense. Evan would’ve warned him of the danger without telling him the whole truth about their situation. She prayed that no harm would come to the Talbot family. She wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt if Fitzgerald harmed her new friends.
Lowering his tall frame to the ground, Evan propped his arms on his bent knees and stared intently at her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She focused on pouring them each a cup of coffee, all the while avoiding his direct gaze.
“Are you still angry at me?”
As she handed a cup to him, his fingers closed over hers. A jolt of awareness shot through her. Her gaze flew to his face. Carefully releasing her fingers while still holding onto the cup, his expression became guarded and his eyes watchful.
“Well?” he prompted. “Are you?”
“I’m not angry. I reacted out of fear, I suppose.”
His dark gaze roamed her face. “Does that mean you care what happens to me, Juliana?”
She stiffened, her mind scrambling for a proper response. Had she been that obvious? “Of course I care for your safety,” she stammered. “If something happened to you, who would take me home?”
He winced as if she’d inflicted physical pain. “That’s right. I’m your ticket home.”
For the second time that day, Juliana wished her words had been left unspoken. She’d hurt him. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded, Evan. Really—”
He held up a hand. “You don’t have to explain. I understand.”
“Evan, please—”
With a feather-light touch of his finger, he lifted her chin. “I wasn’t expecting a declaration of love, Juliana.”
Dropping his hand, he turned his head to stare into the fire.
Juliana squeezed her eyes shut. She’d led him to believe he was merely a means to an end. Her ticket home, as he put it. That was a lie. Against her better judgment, she had begun to care deeply for him. Worrying and fretting about his whereabouts all evening had brought that fact to light.
“Why do you associate with men like Fitzgerald?” she said suddenly. “You’re nothing like them.”
He sipped his coffee. “As I said earlier, it’s a temporary thing.”
“Is it the money?”
He shot her a look of dismissal. “I don’t need money.”
“What is it you need, Evan?”
He didn’t speak for the span of a few seconds. The smile he summoned up bordered on a grimace. “I need to eat, Irish. That’s it.”
Frustration bubbled up deep inside, and she bit back a retort. Why couldn’t he trust her? If he didn’t do it for the money—and she’d seen the evidence of that back at the cabin where he’d left the money from the mercantile heist—then what was his motivation? Was he a thrill seeker? Or was it something else entirely? What had driven Evan Harrison to leave his farm for a life of crime?
Juliana wanted desperately to press the issue, but the circles of exhaustion under his eyes and the weariness in his posture aroused her compassion. He was spent. And hungry. This conversation could wait until later.
Grabbing a square cloth, she lifted his trencher from the coals and handed it to him. “I hope you like frogs’ legs. Matt and I caught them.”
“Sure do.” He accepted the trencher with eagerness. “I’ll bet Matt had a great time.” He bit into one and heaved a contented sigh. “This is the best meal I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.”
“Rose prepared it—not me.”
“Yes, but you helped catch the critters. Something else Josh taught you?”
“Yes.” She smothered a yawn, and he looked up.
“You’re tired,” he stated. “Go to bed.”
“I can wait until you’re finished.”
“I’m gonna be up awhile, so you go on ahead. It’s been a long day.”
She brushed the escaped tendrils away from her face. “Aren’t you tired?”
His mouth full of food, he swallowed and wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. “I am, but considering Fitzgerald is out there, I think it’s wise if someone stands guard.”
“But you’ve been in the saddle all day!”
“It’s just for a couple of hours. Henry’s gonna take the second shift.”
“I suppose you’ll want to sleep in tomorrow morning.”
“I was planning on it, yes,” he said wryly. “Is that okay with you? Or do you have plans for me that can’t wait until after breakfast?”
“No, no plans.” She yawned for the second time in five minutes.
“Good night, Juliana.” His tone left no room for argument.
“Good night, Evan.”
Juliana hadn’t been able to sleep for thoughts of Evan. The long night of tossing and turning had left her feeling out of sorts. What was driving him? What was he hiding? Frustration with him, his refusal to trust her and her own wayward heart bubbled up within her.
With jerky movements she scrubbed the pots clean, but her attention was not on the task at hand. Like a magnet, her gaze was drawn repeatedly to his sleeping form and the black boots propped a few feet away. Her thoughts turned to the paring knife she’d slipped in her pocket at breakfast. Could she really do this?
After all she’d been through, Juliana felt as if she deserved some answers. And if Evan refused to give her the information she sought, then she’d just have to take it upon herself to find it. Her mind made up, she wiped her hands dry and checked to see whether or not the others were watching. They seemed to be sufficiently occupied.
She didn’t give herself time to change her mind. She approached Evan with cautious steps, her gaze on his relaxed features. He didn’t stir. He was so handsome, perhaps even more so now that he was unguarded and peaceful. Her heart gave a painful twinge. She felt horrible doing this, as if she herself were a criminal. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. If only Evan would confide in her…
Fat chance. Ignoring the warning voice inside her head, she scooped up the boots and hurried to an area of tall grass near the water’s edge and sank down, her back to camp. The knife poised in midair, she hesitated. Was this really the right thing to do? After all, she was about to destroy his property. There would be no repairing the lining, so he would know it had been tampered with. And who else but her would do such a thing?
Juliana worried her bottom lip, debating. No matter the consequences, she had to know. Perhaps this thing, whatever it was, would give her some insight into what he was hiding.
Her mind made up, she sliced through the stitches. Her hands were unsteady as she explored the lining with her fingers. It took a few tries, but she eventually managed to retrieve the object.
A sheriff’s badge. She faltered, her stomach tightening. No. It couldn’t be.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Her heart slammed against her chest at the sound of Evan’s deep voice directly behind her. She clutched the star in her fist and bolted to her feet.
He looked grim. Dark brows winged low, his mouth was turned down in intense displeasure.
“I—I—” she stammered, her mind a complete blank.
His hands on his hips, he waited for her answer. There was no avoiding the issue. He could plainly see what she was doing. She stuck her hand out, palm open, the gold star shining in the light.
“How did you get this, Evan?” she demanded, suddenly angry. Had he lied to her? “Please tell me you didn’t kill a lawman and then hid the evidence.”
She held her breath as she waited for his response, half-afraid to hear it. She couldn’t tell by his expression what he was thinking. That frustrated her.
“I’ve never killed a man,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing, “I thought I made that clear.”
“So why are you carrying a badge around in your boot? Whose is it?”
“I’d like to know how you found it. Do you make a habit of examining men’s footwear?”
Her cheeks heated. “Absolutely not. I was tryin
g to move your boots out of the rain yesterday when I discovered it. You were asleep at the time.”
With a backward glance over his shoulder, he advanced toward her. He held his hand out. “May I have that back now?”
Reluctantly, she relinquished it. He brushed past her and, scooping up the knife, shot her a look of exasperation before dropping it in his pocket. Then he bent to tug on his boots. When he straightened, his jaw was set.
He came to stand directly in front of her. “I understand your need to know the truth. I’d do the same thing if I were in your position. But let me make myself very clear—” his blue eyes skewered her “—don’t put your nose where it doesn’t belong. My business is just that—mine.”
His words hurt. “Are you threatening me?” she asked incredulously.
His mouth firmed. “Call it whatever you want, Juliana.”
Spinning on his heel, he strode away without another word.
Juliana watched him leave, her mouth hanging open. What in the world? She’d expected his anger, but threats? It didn’t make sense. He hadn’t been that abrupt with her since the first day.
She was no closer to the truth. In fact, the badge had only sparked more questions.
She stamped her foot in frustration. Why did he have to be so stubborn?
Evan tried to smother the annoyance roiling in his gut. She had some nerve! Why couldn’t she leave well enough alone?
The badge was safe in his pants pocket. For now. He shook his head in disgust. He’d thought he’d found the perfect hiding place. Either he was that bad or she was that good.
He strode back to camp and quickly rolled his bedroll into a tidy bundle. What he really wanted to do was go back to sleep. He’d gone to bed with a raging headache. The long rest hadn’t helped this time. It felt like an axe was being driven into the base of his skull.
Retrieving his shaving kit, he walked to the opposite side of the lake to shave. As soon as he was finished, he would get a cup of coffee and a plate of food. Maybe that was the reason he felt out of sorts this morning.
His thoughts strayed again to Juliana. He could tell her everything, he supposed.
Yet something inside him resisted. If she knew the truth, there would be no more barriers. No reasons to keep her distance. No more defenses.
The walls protecting his heart were not rock-solid. Against his better judgment, he already cared more than was wise. If he told her the truth now, he wasn’t so sure he could remain detached. And falling in love was not an option.
By the time he finished shaving, Evan realized that breakfast would have to wait. He needed to lie down again or risk collapsing in a heap. He just barely made it back. As it was, he didn’t have the strength to fix his blankets, so he stretched out in the grass and promptly fell into a dark oblivion.
A feather brushed over his nose. Lifting a limp hand, Evan batted it away and turned onto his side, his arm cushioning his head. Sleep sucked him back down.
A feather tickled his ear. Grumbling at the disturbance, he swatted again. All he wanted was to sleep in peace. He felt as if he’d been flattened by a runaway wagon.
“Baba!”
A child’s voice interrupted his dreams and a warm weight plumped down onto his rib cage. Jerked awake, he opened his eyes in time to see a curly haired moppet tumble sideways into the grass. Unfazed, she scrambled on top of him once more, her chubby hands clutching his blue cotton shirt for balance. Leaning in close, her brown eyes were large with curiosity as she gazed at him.
“Fafa!”
Careful not to dislodge her, he maneuvered himself onto his back. She picked up a broken willow branch and waved it in the air.
Studying the little girl, he was struck by her sweet face and wide-eyed curiosity. Her sunny yellow frock combined with her large, heavily lashed brown eyes and coffee-colored curls put him in mind of the tall sunflowers growing along the far edge of his property.
Ah, to be a child again, innocent and free of the worries of this world.
She slid off his chest and toddled in the direction of the water. Evan sat up and pushed a hand through his rumpled hair. He had no idea how long he’d been out.
He tracked the little girl with his gaze. She was headed for the wildflower patch, no doubt drawn by the rainbow of bright colors—blue, red, yellow, pink and purple blossoms swaying in the wind.
The girl’s mother was hunched over the fire, stirring the contents of the iron kettle. Henry sat nearby sharpening his knives. Matt wasn’t in sight, nor was Juliana.
He stood and ambled after the child. She wasn’t near the water, but snakes liked to hide in tall grass and he didn’t want to take any chances.
On her knees in the midst of the wildflowers, she buried her nose in the fragrant blossoms. Occasionally, her tiny pink tongue jetted out to lick a petal. He shook his head in amusement. When she reached for a pale pink, bell-shaped flower, he hurried to warn her.
Squatting to her level, he said, “Hey, princess, don’t mess with that one,” pointing to the cluster of foxgloves. “These flowers will make your tummy hurt real bad. Don’t touch them and don’t put them in your mouth.”
“Fafa?” She quirked her head, her tiny brow wrinkled in dismay.
Flower? He pointed again. “Fafa no good.”
A shadow fell across his body.
“When did you learn baby talk?”
Despite his irritation with her, pleasure curled through him at the sound of her lyrical voice. “How long have I been asleep?”
“A long while.”
When he rose to greet her, black spots danced before his eyes and he swayed. He squeezed his eyes shut in hoping that the light-headed sensation would pass.
“What’s wrong?” Juliana moved closer. Her slender hand closed over his wrist, thrilling him despite his discomfort.
“Probably stood up too fast,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger. His head throbbed.
He opened his eyes and was relieved to find his vision clear. Juliana’s face was within touching distance, her forehead puckered in concern. Pale eyelashes framed dark green irises, tiny flecks of gold reflected by the shafts of sunlight peaking through the puffy clouds overhead. A breeze picked up, teasing strands of hair from the neat bun at her nape.
“Are you okay now?”
“I’m fine.”
A tug on his pants leg had him looking down. The little girl held her hands up to him. “Up!”
“I guess that means she wants me to hold her again, huh?” he said, bending to pick her up.
“Wait, Evan,” Juliana cautioned, “are you able to carry her? She may look light, but she’s not.”
With the girl perched in his arms, he turned to Juliana. “I’m fine, really. Let’s deliver this bundle to her parents. My morning coffee is long overdue.”
Gauging from the expression on her face, Juliana wasn’t convinced. She walked beside him without speaking. The gusts of wind took the edge off the humidity. He eyed the darkening sky. They were likely in for a squall.
“I see you finally decided to roll out of bed, Harrison,” Henry called out, his ready smile in place. Evan liked the man and would be sorry when they parted ways.
“I found something that belongs to you.” He set the girl down. She hurried to her father’s side. Henry set aside his tools to pull her into his lap. Evan nodded to Talbot’s wife. “Good morning, Mrs. Talbot.”
“I told you to call me Rose,” she scolded in a light tone. “Would you like your breakfast now? We saved a plate for you. Bacon, beans and corn bread.”
His stomach revolted at the notion of food. “Thank you kindly, ma’am, but I believe I’ll just take a cup of coffee if you have any.”
Her brows rose in surprise. “Sure, we have plenty.”
“I’ll get it.” Juliana moved to fill a tin cup with the dark brew. When she handed it to him, she lowered her voice. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s unusual for you to skip a meal.”
He accepted the cup with a nod. “I’m just feelin’ a little off today.” He sipped the steaming liquid. “Probably a combination of not eating all day yesterday and not enough sleep.”
“Maybe we should stick around here another day,” she suggested. “We could leave early tomorrow morning.”
She had a point. With the way he was feeling, hitting the trail in this heat held little appeal. Still, he didn’t like the idea of sitting in one place with Fitzgerald on their trail. And time was an issue—he needed to get her settled in Cades Cove and then report back to Roberts and the gang.
“Your idea is tempting, but we need to get home.” He tried to convey with a look what he couldn’t say aloud.
“What’s your hurry?” Henry joined them, his daughter on his hip. “Stay with us one more night. It’ll give us a chance to visit a bit more before we say our goodbyes.”
Evan couldn’t think straight, what with the sledgehammer pounding away in his skull. The coffee tasted bitter going down, so he threw it out. Juliana gave him an odd look. He shrugged.
“I can’t think…” The edges of his vision went black, and he stumbled back.
“Evan!”
Juliana calling his name was the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness and slid to the ground.
Chapter Thirteen
Juliana reached for him, but wasn’t fast enough. He hit the ground hard, his head glancing off a fallen log. A thin stream of red trickled from his temple down past his ear and into his hair.
Alarm spiraling through her, Juliana fell to her knees. “Evan!” She cradled his face in her hands. “Speak to me.”
Stepping over his prone body, Henry kneeled, held Evan’s wrist and checked his pulse. “Does he have any health problems?”
“No.” Evan hadn’t mentioned a thing. He seemed so strong and healthy. But she’d only known him a few days. “At least, none that I know of.”
Rose rushed up and placed a hand on Juliana’s shoulder. “What can I do?”
Her thoughts scattered, Juliana’s only focus was on Evan himself.
Henry spoke with utter calm and authority. “We need clean water and bandages for his head wound.” Letting go of Evan’s arm, Henry placed a hand on his forehead. “His pulse is thready. And he’s burning up.” He looked at her. “Does he have a tent among his gear?”