Chapter 14
Day Thirteen
Rick’s soft groaning from the depths of a heavy sleep stirred Catriona awake. Stretching the stiffness out of her limbs, she sat up. The hours she had spent in that position made her entire body ache. But she didn’t mind at all. Above them, the stars faded against the coming light of predawn. It hadn’t been just a few hours, but nearly all night. Rick groaned again and rolled over. Before he even settled into position, he rolled onto his back. His chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. Behind closed lids covered in sweat, his eyes rolled left, right, and back again. A few words were audible between his groans.
“No…Sean…watch out…”
Chills climbed across her skin, banishing the comfortable warmth where his body had lain against hers. This had to be one of the nightmares he’d spoken of. She couldn’t even imagine the horrors he had endured and might be seeing again. The moment she thought it, she discovered how very wrong she was. Her imagination turned out to be far more powerful than she had given it credit for. It was no wonder he hadn’t slept in so long. She couldn’t let him relive such a horrible experience. Whispering his name, she reached for his shoulder.
Her fingers worked like the spark to a powder keg. At the barest touch, Rick exploded toward her. He flew to his feet, arms swinging. A cry burst from her as one of his hands connected with the left side of her face. Rather than knock her aside, he grabbed her by the neck and shoulder. Closed lids still hid his rapidly moving eyes. His hand gripped her throat tighter.
“Rick! Wake up…Rick…” The last word came out as no more than a croak.
His eyes didn’t open. Using a technique Ashlinn had taught her, she spun away from Rick and thrust her arm out against his, breaking his hold on her neck. Nails scratched her flesh as she broke free. Suddenly, Lincoln bounded to her side. Head bobbing from one of them to the other, he seemed confused as to whom to bark at. Ash puffed up around her as Catriona stepped back into the cold campfire. Arms going to his sides, Rick swayed. Slowly, his eyes opened, blinking as though trying to clear something away. Several more moments passed before the fog of sleep began to lift from them.
“Cat…what…where?”
Lincoln stopped barking. Hair stood up along his back as he cocked his head at Rick. The motion drew Rick’s gaze slowly, as if it took a lot of effort. The nightmare must have had him completely in its grip to leave him this disoriented. That knowledge quenched a little of the fear that threatened to finish the job of choking her. Rick’s eyes widened as they worked their way back to her.
“Oh no,” he whispered.
She tried to will herself to stop shaking, to force her fists open, but she couldn’t. He took a step toward her, hand reaching out, and she flinched. The pain and shame that flashed over his face made her feel terrible on more than one level. The shame was something new. All the times Michael had hit her, he’d never once been ashamed. And the bastard had been wide awake and usually sober. She didn’t know how to take Rick’s shame.
“What did I do?” Rick asked in a voice thick with mounting tears.
The sound of his pain chipped at the wall that had erupted around her heart. But her fear kept her from going to him. Hell, it made her want to turn and run.
“I…um…” She couldn’t finish because no words would come to her.
He took a step closer, and it took every ounce of control she had not to bolt. Her entire body shook with the effort. Tears stung her wide eyes. She blinked rapidly to try to dry her eyes so they wouldn’t fall. Showing weakness had always gotten her beaten worse in the past. But it was more than that, this time, with this man. She was fairly certain he hadn’t done this on purpose and she didn’t want him to feel bad if he hadn’t. If. Even from what she knew of Rick, that doubt remained.
His hand reached toward her neck, stopping short. “Oh my God, you’re bleeding. You’re bleeding.” The last words were no more than a garbled sob.
Letting out a pain-filled cry, he sank to his knees and dropped his head into his hands. His shoulders shook with silent sobs. For several moments, she stood watching him weep in the predawn light. Soon, Lincoln trotted over to him and licked at his hands. He leaned his head toward the pup a little. The weeping broke a hole through Catriona’s wall. Seeing him like this was too much. He had been through too much.
She went to him and smoothed his hair. After a few strokes, her hand stopped shaking. He rose up on his knees and she moved into him, cradling his head against her stomach. His arms wrapped around her waist. Their gentle, hesitant pressure eased the anxiety that tried to stir to life within her.
“I didn’t mean to. I swear it, I would never raise a hand to a woman or anyone who wasn’t trying to hurt me,” he said against her stomach.
She made shushing noises. “I know. You aren’t that kind of man. ’Tis just the war trying to keep you in its grasp. But you’re here now, you’re with me. Everything is going to be all right.”
Not a single sound issued from him as his body shook with sobs. Were it not for the movement, she would have thought he’d stopped. The way he hid his pain reminded her of how she had hidden her own. From the muscles rippling in his arms to the width of his broad shoulders, he seemed a pillar of strength that nothing should be able to shake. Yet here he was, as shaken as she’d ever been on her worst day. And she had undergone some truly bad days. Letting out one soft whine, Lincoln licked at both of their arms.
She swallowed her fear and forced her body to stop shaking. Deep breaths helped. It was a skill she had become adept at over the years with Michael. But this wasn’t Michael. Rick hadn’t hurt her knowingly or willingly. His mournful, horrified sobs made that clear. The sound of them filled her with the instinct to protect him, odd as that was. When her hand grew steady enough, she began to stroke his hair back from his forehead. Her other hand snaked around his shoulders and cradled him gently to her. Rick relaxed against her more with each stroke of her hand. She held him close until the sobs that racked his body finally stopped.
Chapter 15
Day Fourteen
The Wyoming territory stretched out before them in seemingly endless plains. The slate gray sky hung so heavy above that it almost felt like he could reach up and touch it. Moisture made the air thick, heavy, and almost difficult to breathe. In the distance a darker layer topped the clouds and sheets of rain fell across the plains. A strong wind blew the sweet scent of wet grass to him.
“How bad do you think the storm is?” Catriona asked.
Concern wrinkled her brow beneath her little bowler hat, which wasn’t going to keep her dry. He should have insisted she purchase a good brimmed leather hat like his Aussie one before they left. But, at the time he’d wanted to teach her a lesson. Now…
“Bad,” he admitted, eyes on the darker clouds.
Was that a flash of light he saw in the distance, or just the sun trying to break through the clouds? Saints, he hoped it wasn’t a flash. It might be a boon, though. Yesterday, he had thought he’d seen a rider on the horizon behind them. While it could have been just another traveler, it wasn’t likely. Travelers were few and far between lately, especially lone riders. He couldn’t help but wonder if it had been Cofield. Or even another man. Ainsworth would get impatient if he didn’t hear from the man. The bastard had men all across the territories and states protecting the goods he shipped across America. It was only a matter of time before he sent another.
If only that were their only problem at the moment.
Cat turned and began to dig in her saddlebags. Clinging with only her legs, she did so as the horse continued to walk. And damn if she didn’t do it with ease. Only a few of the clients out of New York whom he’d escorted could ride as well as she did. She continued to surprise him at every turn. After what had happened this morning, he found he didn’t hate that about her after all. Besides, he’d only hated it because each new surprise endeared her
more to him. Now, he thought maybe that wasn’t such a terrible thing.
From her bags she removed a bundle of sturdy, dark blue cloth, tucked it under one arm, and stuffed her hat into her bags. She closed and tied the flaps with a double slipknot. Turning back around, she shook out the bundle of cloth—which turned out to be a hooded cloak, of all things—and fastened it around herself. She pulled the hood on and fastened the buttons about her neck and shoulders to keep it in place. A slight blush painted her cheeks when she found him watching her.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing, ’tis just that you look a bit like you walked out of a faery tale.” He couldn’t hide the smile that tried to break through.
“Smirk all you want. It might be out of fashion, but ’tis of good canvas that will keep me dry.” The playfulness in her voice was a bit forced.
At least she sounded a bit like her spunky old self again. Since the incident this morning she’d been a bit quiet and withdrawn. It should have made him happy. He’d wanted to keep her at a distance. But not like that. A veiled hesitance akin to fear hid in her eyes now and that crushed him.
Smiling, he did his best to feign a light-heartedness that he didn’t feel. “Aye, it looks as though it will at that. Does that mean you want to keep going?”
She lifted her chin. “O’ course. We can’t lose half a day’s travel because of a little rain. Besides, ’tis nothing but open fields to the horizon. No sense stopping where we don’t have cover.”
“True enough,” he agreed, trying not to sound too relieved.
The one eye he could see behind her hood glared at him. She placed a hand on her hip. “Then what is that smirk for?”
The light tone made him smirk all the more. “You amaze me is all,” he said. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “And I mean that in a good way.”
Giving him a slight nod, she picked up the reins and squeezed Galiha into a trot. “Good,” she called back. Fanlike tail of gray and white wagging in the air, Lincoln trotted after her.
If his heart wasn’t still so heavy, he would have laughed out loud. All he could manage was a smile, but it was a happy one. Lincoln came running back, hopped a circle around him, barked, and bounded after Cat once again.
“All right, all right.”
He squeezed Ayegi into a trot and caught up. As he looked over his shoulder, a distant shape caught his attention. Toward the horizon, barely visible, he could make out the outline of three figures on horseback. At this distance it was hard to tell who, even what, they were. The lack of a wagon didn’t bode well. Those who didn’t travel with a wagon were in a hurry for one reason or another, or weren’t settlers. Either way it could mean trouble. He kept them half a day’s travel east of the main trail, so there shouldn’t have been anyone out here. Not wanting to worry Catriona, he kept it to himself. With nothing but open plains as far as the eye could see, it did them no good to worry just yet. That didn’t stop him from turning now and then to subtly check on the figures.
They remained there, no closer, no farther away.
Rain doused him as they entered a literal sheet of it that turned everything dark as twilight. One step they were dry, the next they rode in a torrential downpour. The horses hung their heads, tucked their noses in, and trudged on. Thankfully, enough grass covered the land here that it wouldn’t easily turn to mud. Over the next hill, though, it was hard to say. No canyons or hollows lay ahead so flash flooding wouldn’t be an issue. But, if they had to veer off course they’d have to be careful. As they trotted on, Rick went over what he knew of the area, plotting out alternative routes just in case.
The grin Cat cast his way as she guided Galiha closer was tight and tense as the horse that pranced beneath her. His own gelding was also a bundle of coiled energy. Nervous horses made for a very bad sign. As if to solidify his concerns, the darkening skies above swallowed their shadows, leaving them in a hazy near-dark.
Cat cupped a hand over her mouth and leaned in his direction. “Wyoming weather isn’t exactly welcoming,” she shouted in a voice that shook with nerves.
“Not always,” he shouted back over the roaring patter of rain.
His gaze flicked back in the direction he had seen the riders. They now rode close enough he could make out feathers thrusting from their hair and could tell their horses were bareback. It looked like Wyoming might hold more than bad weather for them.
“Shite,” he murmured to himself. To Cat, he shouted, “Wouldn’t hurt to canter them a bit, get closer to the trees faster.”
A rumble of thunder shook the ground and cut off his last words. Ayegi’s black mane arched, and he stomped as if in agreement. Forgoing any words of comfort the gelding wouldn’t hear over the pounding rain anyway, he patted his neck instead. With the barest squeeze of his legs Ayegi leapt into a canter, head thrust straight out into the building wind. Cat kept pace easily enough. The big paint could really move when he was properly motivated.
After only a half mile or so they had to slow for the little mare they had taken from Cofield. Being tethered to Cat’s gelding, which was much slower, helped her, but not enough. The poor thing’s sides heaved with each breath. The rain had plastered her dark brown coat to her, revealing how underweight and out of shape she was. At the next trading post he’d have to sell her. Unfortunately, she was nowhere near the shape for a trek like this as his own packhorse was. It was no wonder they’d been able to keep ahead of the man for so long. Cat kept looking back at the mare, calling out an encouraging word now and then, but the horse wouldn’t speed up.
The size of raindrops grew so big a single one covered nearly half of the back of his hand. Their collision with everything earthbound became a cacophony of pattering. Another boom of thunder added a little speed to the mare’s pace. The world brightened for a brief moment just as Rick looked back over his shoulder. Through the curtains of rain the three figures rode not more than a hundred yards away now. Thunder rumbled again, shaking not only the ground, but the very air around them. As he looked back at Cat, a streak of white lightning zagged down through the sky not far behind her. Her eyes went wide.
Grass flew as the horses dug in and barreled forth into a canter. Rick chanced another look behind them. Their followers had gained enough ground that he could make them out despite the heavy gloom cast by the clouds. Three braves in hunting gear rode astride sure-footed appaloosas speckled with black spots. And they were gaining fast. A sinking sensation gripped him along with a certainty that the natives weren’t just running from the storm in the same direction. Whether it was the horses they were after or just a chance to kill two people they saw as threats to their lands and families, it didn’t matter. Nor did his sympathy for them when it came to surviving. He needed to distract them to keep Catriona safe.
Thunder boomed overhead again. Lightning crackled across the clouds, not quite breaking through, but skirting their underbelly. The storm would hopefully help in what he had planned. He veered Ayegi as close to Cat as he could without risking clipping Galiha’s heels.
“Head northeast, find the trail. Meet me at the fort!” he yelled over the building noise of the storm.
Her eyes shot open so wide he saw more white than green. The near panic on her face pinched at his heart. She shook her head so violently the hood of her cloak fell back. He motioned with his head behind them. She turned to look and went white as a banshee.
“I’m going to lead them away. Take Lincoln. Don’t look back and don’t stop for anything,” he yelled.
The way her brows pinched together made him fear she would argue. She sat up a little straighter, letting Galiha slow his pace. Just when he began to fear he’d have to slap the paint on the rump and hope she could stay on his back, she nodded. She leaned back in the saddle, slapped the horn, and called to Lincoln. The fleeing pup looked to him.
“Lincoln, up!” Rick commanded as he pointed at Cat.
Barely missing a step, Lincoln veered off toward Cat and leapt in midstride. Heavy as he was, he knocked Cat back. For a breathless moment, Rick feared she might topple from the saddle. Somehow the woman maintained her balance and managed to grab hold of the massive pup. She gave him such a long, pointed look as they loped along that he started to reach out to smack Galiha on the rump. Right before he could, she leaned forward and squeezed the horse into an all-out gallop. They took off like a shot. Only heartbeats later they faded into the gray haze of pouring rain.
Drawing his gun, Rick slowed Ayegi to a lope and steeled his heart for what he’d have to do. No matter the cost, he wouldn’t allow them to get Cat.
Chapter 16
Day Fifteen
With the thunder pounding overhead and lightning crackling all around—even touching the nearby hills—Cat couldn’t have slowed Galiha down if she had wanted to. And she didn’t want to, at least not a first. She knew the natives might kill her if they caught her, or worse. Any doubts she had harbored had disappeared the moment she saw the look on Rick’s face. It tormented her to leave him to face the danger alone, but Galiha ran like the whole Cherokee nation was on his heels. Trying to stop him would be like trying to stop a train.
How long they fled into the gray miasma of rain, she had no idea. She only knew the rhythm of the horse beneath her and the warmth of the massive pup she clutched to her chest. He was bloody heavy. Thankfully, her saddle was a bit big, allowing him to squeeze mostly between her and the horn, which helped hold him in place. It made her very grateful for the odd Spanish style. Every now and then she glanced back, hoping to catch sight of Rick on their heels. But he wasn’t there.
Courting the Corporal Page 14