Come Back

by Melissa Maygrove

  Only every minute of every hour. “I’ve thought about it some.”

  The crease in his brow that had shallowed deepened again. “Have you made a decision?”

  Becca set aside her half-eaten rabbit. What meager appetite she’d had was gone. “You said you didn’t need an answer until we got to the outpost.”

  “I... I don’t. I was just curious.”

  Seth stood and scraped the rest of the scraps into the fire, then traded his plate for his hat and glanced up at the waning daylight. “I’m going to take Cyrus and go to the stream once more before dark. I’ll be back in time to make camp.”

  While he was gone, Becca went about the job of cleaning up. As she washed and dried the tin plates and put them away, the stack of bedrolls pulsed like a burgeoning storm cloud in the fringe of her vision. No longer would she and Seth have separate rooms. She didn’t fear him in any way, but camp sleeping arrangements hadn’t been discussed.

  And what about once they shared a wagon?

  Becca put it off as long as she could, then stood over the bundle of tarps, quilts and blankets, wondering what she should do.

  How would Seth want things arranged? Would he want their pallets next to each other, or on opposite sides of the fire? If she placed them too close together, that might make him uncomfortable. And—her stomach clenched—make her look wanton. But if she put them too far apart, his feelings might be hurt.

  Becca gnawed on her lip and wrung her hands. She hated decisions like this.

  Maybe the best arrangement was something between the two. She could angle their beds so they were across from each other, but with their heads facing the same way. Sort of like a V.

  She bent over and reached for the rolls.

  “Wait,” Seth called as he rode up. He reined Cyrus to a stop and swiftly dismounted. “Don’t untie those.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve decided not to make camp.”

  “You found someplace better?”

  “No.” Why did he have such a grim look on his face? Was the thought of sleeping next to her that upsetting?

  Seth snatched up the bundle of bed rolls. “We need to leave. It’s not safe here.” He kicked dirt onto the fire, then began tying their belongings to Cyrus’ saddle. “Help me.” He inclined his head. “Grab the canteens.”

  Becca wanted details, but his urgency was genuine. She did as he asked and held her tongue.

  Within minutes, they had everything packed—the only trace of their presence an extinguished pile of sticks.

  Seth turned to her and reached for her waist. “Let me help you mount.”

  Becca backed away. “I’d rather walk.”

  “It’s going to be a long trip, and you’re tired.”

  “I am, but I’m more tired of riding.”

  He glanced around. “All right. But if we run into trouble, I want you to climb on Cyrus and ride away as fast as you can.”

  She opened her mouth to protest.

  “No matter what, Becca. Promise me you’ll get yourself to safety.”

  “I promise.”

  “Let’s go.” He clipped on Cyrus’ lead line and glanced over at her as she flanked the horse’s other side. “Stay close.”

  Seth led them east at a brisk pace, occasionally looking back the way they’d come. For now, they could see, but they wouldn’t have daylight for long. The sun was quickly setting, and the temperature was dropping. Becca rued the loss of the fire.

  “What happened back there?” she finally asked when they’d gone a few miles. Several thumps of horse’s hooves later, she still hadn’t gotten an answer. “Seth?”

  “When I went back to water Cyrus the second time, I noticed tracks near the stream.”

  “Bear or mountain lion?”

  More hoof beats punctuated the silence. “Human.”

  She sucked in a breath. “How many people?”

  “At least two, with horses. But I’m not certain the tracks are fresh. They could have been made any time in the last day or so.”

  Becca stared straight ahead and pressed a hand to her quivering insides. She kept walking, but she could barely feel her feet touching ground. Her limbs had gone numb.

  “Becca?”

  She kept walking until the absence of hoof beats made her look to the left. Cyrus had stopped a few feet back and was bending his neck to graze. She turned back to Seth standing directly in front of her.

  “The tracks I saw looked like they were made by some Indians passing through, headed west. They’re probably long gone, but I don’t want to take any chances.” He clasped her arms with gloved hands and gave a reassuring squeeze. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  Seth collected Cyrus, and the three of them began walking again.

  Pale light from a hazy half-moon replaced the purple shadows of dusk, and a deep chill settled in with the night. Becca clutched the collar of her coat closed as she trudged with feet that had gone from being numb with fear to being numb with cold.

  She looked over at Seth who strode along with even, confident steps. “How do you know which way to go?”

  He glanced up at her as if she’d pulled him from his thoughts and pointed toward the sky where fingers of mist crept across the heavens. “I can tell by looking at the stars.”

  “Even when it’s cloudy like this?”

  He nodded. “I can see enough of them to find my way.” A few moments of silence passed between them, the steady plod of Cyrus’ hooves and the crunch of lumpy prairie grass under their feet the only noise. “Do you need a break?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  Becca wished Seth would tell her more about the stars—about anything—to make the night feel less eerie and the trip seem less long, but he kept to himself.

  Several miles later, the numbness in her feet had spread through her entire body. Her steps slowed and her boots kept catching on the uneven ground. She took some deep breaths and willed her legs to lift her feet higher, but they didn’t obey. After snagging her toes and stumbling so many times she lost count, she tripped and fell flat.

  Seth was by her side in an instant.

  “I’m fine,” she assured as she pushed herself up and brushed the gravel from her palms and the dust from her clothes.

  “No, you’re not. You’re so tired you can hardly stand.”

  She looked into dark eyes lined with concern. “I just need a short rest.”

  Seth opened his canteen and offered her a drink. After taking one himself, he glanced around as he replaced the stopper. “I think we’ve gone far enough to take a break. Do you need a private moment?”

  “I could use one, yes.”

  “There’s a good spot over there,” he said, pointing to a cluster of waist-high bushes a few yards away. “I’ll stay here with Cyrus and take my turn when you’re done.”

  Becca made her way across the silvery, moonlit clearing and peeked through the bushes at Seth who kept his back to her the whole time. Moments like this were still awkward, but their discomfiture was beginning to ease. Maybe this would work out after all.

  Once they’d seen to their personal needs, the two sat on some large rocks and took another drink of water. Seth kept shifting his attention back and forth from the prairie to her, eyeing her with a troubled expression.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m debating what to do. You need rest, but I don’t feel safe making camp.”

  “I’ll be fine. Just let me sit here a few more minutes.” She was about to fall asleep sitting up, but she didn’t dare admit it to him.

  He glared at her sideways and pursed his lips, letting her know he saw through her subterfuge. Then he brooded again, tapping his canteen.

  “Come here.” He led her over to a boulder that rose a couple of feet above the dirt. “Can you stand on this for a minute or two?”

  “Yes, but...”

  He returned to Cyrus and swung into the saddle, then rode over to where she stood. After scoot
ing back, Seth reached down and lifted her right off her feet, turned her sideways, and set her in front of him.

  Cyrus snorted and sidestepped in protest.

  “Easy, boy,” Seth crooned.

  Cyrus turned his head and sniffed Becca’s skirts, then faced forward and gave a resigned blow. When Seth gathered the reins in one hand and clicked his tongue, the horse ambled forward at a steady pace.

  “Am I too heavy for him?”

  “Nah. He’s just being ornery.”

  Seth’s masculine scent and the nearness of his body sent a tingle racing through her. Becca tried to sit up straight and keep from leaning into him, but their position and the movement of the horse made that nearly impossible. At the brush of his chest against her arm, she shivered, thankful a timely gust of wind disguised the cause.

  Seth reached behind him and pulled a woolen blanket from his saddle bag. He shook it out and wrapped it around her.

  Becca thanked him, still trying to hold her posture straight.

  “Does this bother you? Riding double?”

  “No.” Not in the way he meant.

  He studied her for a long moment, the moon reflected as ivory beads in his eyes, and then he lifted his gaze to the horizon and rode in silence, one hand guiding the reins and the other resting palm down on his thigh.

  Cyrus’ easy steps lulled her, and Becca began to nod off. She swayed in the saddle, catching herself with a jerk just shy of losing her balance.

  Seth’s arm shot up in response. “You’re exhausted.” He unbuttoned his leather duster, baring the shirt underneath. “Lean against me and rest.”

  Becca eyed the blue flannel with indecision. She was trying to maintain a proper decorum, but she was so tired.

  She lifted her eyes just in time to see shame cloud his. If she didn’t accept his offer, he would be hurt. “Thank you.”

  He wrapped his arm around her as she settled against him and laid her head on his chest, soaking in the heat that seeped through the fabric. Becca tried to stay awake so she could savor the closeness, but her traitorous eyes grew heavy too soon.

  As she gave in to exhaustion, his muscular arm held her firm. “Sleep if you want to. I won’t let you fall.”

  Becca opened her eyes and squinted at the early morning sun. A chill frosted her cheek as she lifted her head, making her shiver and burrow back against Seth. His chest was better than a blazing fire at giving off heat.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked in a scratchy voice.

  “I did.” His arm loosened its guardian position as she reluctantly pulled away. “I can’t believe you held me all night long.”

  He looked down at her with tired, wind-burned eyes. “I promised you I wouldn’t let you fall.”

  Oh, but you did.

  His selfless act had warmed her heart. Now the depth of his sacrifice was practically crushing it.

  Becca swallowed past a lump of emotion. “Is the outpost much farther?”

  “No. About twenty more miles.” He raised his chin, lifting the brim of his hat. “Just over those hills.”

  “Do you think it’s safe to stop for a while?”

  “Yeah. Cyrus needs a rest.”

  Good. She’d make them some breakfast. Then maybe she could convince him to take a nap.

  Seth guided Cyrus to a shady spot near some trees.

  Becca shifted in the saddle and wiggled her feet, making sure nothing was cramping or numb. Her body felt a little stiff; that was all.

  “I’ll get down first so I can help you,” he offered.

  “No need.” She clasped his hand for support and slid smoothly to the ground.

  Becca turned around just as Seth swung his leg over the back of the saddle and let out a muffled groan. When his boot touched ground, he removed the other one from the stirrup and stood at his horse’s side. His fingers gripped the pommel so tightly his knuckles blanched, and the side of his face corded with tension as it had when she’d stitched up his side.

  “Are you all right?”

  His jaw relaxed as he drew in a breath. “Yeah. Just stiff from the ride.” He removed their belongings from the saddle, then led Cyrus over to a grassy area with halting steps.

  Becca gathered a few branches and started a fire. She put on a pot of coffee to boil while she heated some biscuits and meat.

  “Smells good,” Seth said as he joined her by the fire. “I could sure use some coffee.” His stride had eased, but he gritted his teeth as he lowered himself to the ground.

  Becca poured him a cup. “It’s probably bitter. I wish I’d had an egg to throw in.”

  “I won’t complain.” He blew at the surface of the oily, black liquid and took a tentative sip. “Ahh.”

  “And four more for the skillet.”

  “Huh?”

  “Eggs.” She sighed. “I haven’t had eggs in so long.”

  Seth’s smile became a wince as he leaned back against a large rock.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine. I just need a rest.” He wasn’t a very good liar either.

  Seth took another sip of coffee, swirls of steam grazing his upper lip. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and Sam will have some eggs for sale.”

  “Who’s Sam?”

  “The man I worked for at the outpost. He was due to get the rest of his shipments last week. He should be stocked and ready for business by the time we get there.”

  “Oh.” Becca handed him his plate.

  Seth set his coffee aside and took a bite of his biscuit. “Mmm.” He chewed, eyes closed and crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth. “Youm—” He swallowed. “You make the best biscuits. Even left over, they’re good.”

  Becca rolled her eyes and shook her head. He was laying it on thick. Without milk and lard, they could pass for hardtack.

  “What was that for?”

  “You and your flattery. Those are some of the worst biscuits I’ve ever made.”

  He shrugged. “Not to me. As trail biscuits go, they’re superb.”

  She laughed outright. The man was seriously deprived of decent food.

  Becca took a bite of her biscuit and forced it down with the bitter coffee. She lifted the palm-sized lump to take another bite and stopped with it inches from her lips.

  Seth’s cerulean gaze was fixed on her, his eyes twinkling like gems. “It’s good to hear you laugh.”

  She sat motionless, her heart stirred by his warm regard, until she realized she was staring. Becca averted her gaze and busied herself brushing crumbs off her skirt. “How long until we leave?”

  “Cyrus needs to rest and graze. If we leave after lunch, we’ll get there in time to get our supplies packed and paid for. Then we can leave for the cave in the morning.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” She grasped the end of her braid and rolled it between her fingers. “A wagon is costly. And I have no money.”

  Seth took a sip of his coffee. “Don’t worry about money.”

  “But what if my family refuses to pay you back?”

  “I hadn’t planned on asking them.”

  “What about your plans? The money you’re saving for a ranch?”

  “Rebecca.” He sat forward, resting an elbow on his bent knee. “I offered to do this of my own free will. I don’t expect anything in return.” He relaxed against the rock again. “I’m only twenty. I have plenty of time to save money.”

  Seth eyed her over the rim of his cup. “You mentioned your family. Does that mean you’ve decided to go to California?”

  Becca’s hand slipped from her braid and she nodded. “I want to find them and find out what happened.”

  “Good.” A shadow passed over his face, dulling the acknowledging curve of his lips. “California it is.”

  Under the glare of the midday sun, Seth shrugged off his duster and draped it over his mount’s empty saddle. The brim of his hat cast his face in murky shade, but it didn’t hide how lack of sleep lined his face and weighted his lids.
Becca turned her attention back to the trail and kept trudging along. She’d promised to keep watch—even offered to sit with a loaded gun in her lap—but he refused to sleep. At some point, the stubborn fool would have to trust her. He wouldn’t survive the trip without regular rest.

  “How much farther?” she asked, stifling the urge to scold him.

  “’Bout two miles.” He glanced at her. “Are you tired?”

  Look who’s talking. You’re practically dead on your feet. “No.”

  He slowed to a stop. “I’ll help you mount up if you’d rather ride.”

  “No, thanks.”

  He adjusted his hat as Cyrus lowered his head and sniffed a clump of grass. “Need a personal moment?”

  Becca chewed the inside of her lip. “Does the outpost have an outhouse?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll wait.” She started walking again and Seth did the same. The scent of the sundrenched prairie rose with the heat of the day and filled her nose. No longer damp and dewy, it smelled of wild hay and stone.

  “Are you angry with me?”

  Yes. “A little.”

  Not three steps later, he stood in front of her, blocking her path. “Why?”

  Becca sucked in a breath and stared up into eyes that were hard and glaring. She knew exhaustion was partly to blame, but the way his gaze bored into her made him look fierce.

  She swallowed and lifted her chin. “Because you don’t trust me. I’ve survived on my own for more than a year, and you treat me like a child.”

  Seth blinked and took a step back.

  “You haven’t slept in over a day. You’re about to fall on your face, yet you refuse to let me keep watch. If we go to California, we’re looking at weeks on the trail—months. You can’t stay awake the whole time.”

  “I know that, Rebecca. This is different.”

  “How is it different?”

  “I didn’t feel safe camping, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll sleep at the outpost.”

  “And what about when you don’t feel safe camping on the trail? What then?”

  His glare was back. All puffed up with reckless male pride, he was practically fuming.