Sooner or Later

by Vickie McDonough

  Oklahoma Territory if you git lucky ‘nough to stake a claim. Costs fourteen dollars. That’s an awful lot, if’n you ask me.”

  Mason knew Jake would want in on the run. It was just the kind of opportunity he’d jump at. Jake probably wasn’t even in Tulsa anymore—not if he knew about the Land Run. The problem was, he’d told Rebekah he’d drop her off in the first big town they came to. Of course, if they didn’t stop in Tulsa, she’d have to continue traveling with them.

  He looked across the campfire and watched Rebekah redo Katie’s hair. She nibbled her lip and looked deep in thought. He glanced around to check on Jimmy. The boy, wearing the derby hat, was leading Hector back from the field where Bekah had found Mason.

  Would that be fair to Bekah—to make her travel to the Oklahoma Territory? It would get her closer to her destination.

  The truth was, he wanted to spend more time with her. He wasn’t ready for her to leave. Of course, he needed her more than anything now that he’d been injured. Hadn’t he heard that the train cut across the Territories from Kansas all the way down to Texas now? If they headed far enough west, they’d have to come across it sooner or later. Then she could catch the train up to Dodge City and on to Denver. Until then, he’d have time to heal and get himself ready to say good-bye.

  Mason turned back to Sam. “You know if there’s a train that crosses the Territories?”

  “Yup. Yup. The Atchison, Topeka, and Sante Fe Railroad runs through there.”

  Stretched out on the ground beside Sam, Beau began snoring. The irritating noise reminded Mason of a badger’s snarling growl.

  Mason looked back at Rebekah, and a small grin tilted his lips. She and Katie had filled their arms with the tornado-tossed clothing they’d washed that morning. The two females were headed back to the creek, evidently to wash the clothes for the second time in one day.

  “Yup, that’s a mighty fine-lookin’ woman you got there.” Sam laid back, his head on his crossed arms, and closed his eyes.

  Mason felt his ears warm, knowing the old man had caught him staring at Bekah. He forced away pleasant thoughts of having her for a wife. “How long you reckon it would take to get from here to the Territories?”

  “You’re already in Indian Territory, but I imagine it’d take less than a week on horseback from here to cross into the Oklahoma Territory. Course, pullin’ a wagon the size of your’n, more likely two weeks.”

  “Got any idea what the date is?” Mason asked.

  “Yup. Early April—somewheres around the fourth or fifth.” Sam yawned and turned onto his side.

  One-handedly, Mason calculated the days. That gave him barely two and a half weeks to get to Oklahoma before the Land Run—if they didn’t stop in Tulsa. It wasn’t like he’d promised Bekah they’d stop there, and sure as shootin’, Jake would be off somewhere else once the Land Run was over. Mason couldn’t afford to miss him.

  Almost against his will, his gaze drifted back to Rebekah again. She wrung the water out of one of Jimmy’s shirts then flipped a handful at Katie. His young niece giggled and whipped a dripping sock in the air, getting more water on herself than on Bekah. Rebekah unrolled Jimmy’s shirt and gave it a ferocious shake. Katie squealed and ran back toward the creek bank. Mason chuckled.

  He loved Bekah’s playfulness. Whoa! Loved? Where did that come from? Mason ran his hand through his hair, suddenly wondering where his hat had ended up. Loved. It was simply a figure of speech, wasn’t it?

  Yeah, then why did you kiss her, Danfield?

  Mason laid his head back against the tree trunk. He didn’t want to have feelings for Rebekah. He had plans. Take Jimmy and Katie to Jake, then head west—alone. Suddenly, being alone didn’t sound so great.

  The sound of water splashing and Katie giggling tickled his ears. Songbirds had returned to the wind-tossed trees and were trying to outdo each other in their cheerful choruses. A gentle breeze tugged his hair. Maybe it would be best to take Rebekah to Tulsa after all.

  But how could he manage without her now that he was wounded? He opened his eyes and studied the ground nearby. He reached out and snatched up a small rock. With a deep sigh, he heaved the rock to the far side of the camp, instantly regretting his sudden movement when pain riveted across his chest. The rock landed in the dirt near Duke. The big horse snorted and jumped, his brown hide quivering.

  “Don’t splash me, Katie. I’m warnin’ you.” Jimmy’s stern tone drew Mason’s gaze back to the creek. “I told you I’ve had all the water I want for one day.”

  “But you’s dirty again,” Katie reasoned.

  “It’s okay for men to be dirty.”

  “Nuh-uh. It ain’t okay for anybody to be dirty.” Katie stood ankle-deep in the creek with her dripping fists on her waist. “‘Sides, you ain’t a man. You’s just a boy.”

  “Well …” For once, Jimmy didn’t seem to have the words to argue with his sister. “Well, I’m not gettin’ wet—and that’s final.” He plastered his fists on his hips, daring Katie to argue more. Suddenly Hector lifted his dripping muzzle from the creek where he’d been drinking. The horse stepped toward Jimmy and nudged him in the back with his big head, sending the boy flying into the creek. Jimmy rose from the water, sputtering and fuming. Like an Indian on the warpath, he danced in the creek and glared at the horse. Good thing for Hector, Jimmy didn’t have a tomahawk handy.

  Mason’s lips split into a grin, and he couldn’t hold back his chuckle. Katie and Bekah howled with laughter. Jimmy whirled around, glowering at them both. Hector whinnied as if joining in the fun.

  “You’s did get two baffs in one day.” Katie covered her mouth as she giggled.

  Jimmy grabbed Hector’s lead rope and led him out of the creek. “Some friend you are,” Mason barely heard him mutter as the boy stomped away, dripping water everywhere.

  Smiling, Bekah followed Jimmy out of the water. She shook open the boy’s shirt and laid it across a bush. Cupping her palm over her eyebrows, she looked in Mason’s direction. A warmth saturated his being. She was checking on him. He raised a hand in a little wave. A pale rose color stained Bekah’s cheeks as she waved back. Bending down, she picked up one of his shirts and turned back toward the creek.

  Mason laid his head back against the tree trunk. His eyelids drifted shut. Who was he kidding? He wanted Bekah around as long as he could manage. Just maybe, getting laid up was the best thing to happen to him in a long while.

  eleven

  “No, I’ll do it. You just sit down and rest.” Rebekah glared up at Mason, daring him to argue with her again. For the past two days, he’d been cranky, fussing to get back to work. The foolish man wouldn’t lay still and allow his arm to heal. And, as if that wasn’t enough, he’d been bossing everyone around as if they didn’t know enough to do their chores without his oversight.

  Mason’s eyes narrowed. He seemed to be contemplating his response. “Look,” he finally said, “I hurt my shoulder. I’m not dead or dying, Bekah. I don’t need to be babied like an infant still in the cradle.”

  “Well, you don’t need to be messing with the horses just yet either. It’s only been two days since your shoulder was dislocated.” She moved closer and tilted her head back farther to see clearly into his dark eyes. “‘Sides, I haven’t been babying you.”

  Mason stepped forward, the toes of his boot knocking into her shoe as Rebekah tried to gulp down the knot in her throat. Knowing full well she had been doing everything she could to make his recovery easier, Rebekah now avoided his gaze and stared at the stubble on his chin. The very chin she had shaved just yesterday. Her heart had barely slowed its erratic throbbing from being so close to him and from rubbing her hands across his rough cheeks. She was so thankful he hadn’t perished in the storm that she’d been willing to do almost anything to help him.

  “I—I don’t want you to hurt your shoulder,” she whispered as she read the words Blue Creek Mills on the sling she’d made for Mason out of an old flour sack. He reached behind him and
adjusted the sling against his neck.

  “I told you this has happened before. I know my limits. You’re gonna have to trust me on that.”

  “But the horses—” Mason’s warm finger on her lips halted her next words. She swallowed, willing her heart to slow down. Being close to Mason like this was making Denver look less and less appealing.

  “You and Jimmy can help me with the horses. I’m trying to be careful and not do too much, but you’re gonna have to trust me.” His eyebrows arched as if waiting for her to disagree.

  Oh, but I do trust you. If you only knew how much

  “Hee-hee.” Sam shuffled past them, chuckling and tugging on his faded suspenders. “You two’s not gonna have a very happy married life if’n y’all argue all the time like that. Best y’all should just kiss and make up.”

  Rebekah felt as if her cheeks had caught fire. “They’ve been here two days, and you never told him we aren’t married,” she hissed at Mason.

  Mason grinned at Sam, but his smile faded when he caught her glare. He looked like a schoolboy with his hand caught in the pickle barrel. He opened his mouth to say something then clamped it shut.

  Straightening, Rebekah leaned toward Mason. “Well, if you won’t tell him, I will.” She swung around, mouth open ready to inform Sam of her unmarried status. “Sa—”

  Mason’s warm, calloused hand settled over her mouth, halting her words. He pulled her against his chest, holding her tight. Frustrated, Rebekah wanted to fight against him but was afraid she’d hurt his shoulder, so she allowed herself the luxury of leaning back against Mason’s solid body.

  Sam had stooped down to load his saddlebags and had his back to them. Beau was on the other side of the wagon, taking his horses to the creek, with Jimmy and Katie tagging along. Rebekah felt Mason’s cheek against her head as he leaned down close to her ear. His nearness shot spikes of attraction up her spine. “At first, I didn’t want them to know.

  I thought it was safer for you that way.” Mason’s warm breath tickled her ear. “Then I decided not to tell them. I didn’t want them getting any wrong ideas about us.”

  Rebekah snorted an unladylike laugh against his warm, salty hand, which remained lightly against her lips. What about the wrong idea that they were married?

  Sam stood and turned. Mason released her mouth and ran his hand along her cheek; then he let it rest against her neck. She couldn’t move. Could he feel her ferociously pounding pulse?

  Sam chuckled. “Yup, making up’s the best part, ain’t it? Give the little woman a kiss for me, Mason.” He grinned his gap-toothed smile and ambled toward the creek.

  Mason tightened his grasp and leaned down, kissing Rebekah firmly on the cheek. She stiffened at his unexpected display of affection, then shoved her elbow in his belly. He oompfed a gasp of air then chuckled. “I’m just obeying my elders, sugar.”

  Rebekah grabbed his arm and yanked it away, then stomped off to finish packing the wagon. “Of all the nerve.” She swatted at her cheek where it still burned from Mason’s kiss. Tears stung her eyes. Why couldn’t he kiss her for real, instead of making it a big joke? If only Prince hadn’t given out on her, she’d be in Denver by now and Mason Danfield would be a distant memory. So why didn’t that thought make her feel any better?

  Rebekah hadn’t talked to Mason all day. She sat stiffly beside him on the wagon seat as if he weren’t there. Mason lifted his hat, thankful he’d found it under a bush near their camp, and scratched his head. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he’d done—unless it was the kiss. But he was just funnin’, humoring Sam really. Surely she didn’t take offense at something so harmless.

  Sam and Beau had said their good-byes and trotted their horses down the trail toward the Unassigned Lands. Actually, Sam had said good-bye and Beau had just said, “Yep.” Mason racked his brain, trying to remember if Beau had said anything else the whole two days they’d spent together. The son was as quiet as his father was chatty—a strange but friendly pair.

  Mason peeked out the corner of his eye at Bekah. She’d loosened her braid, allowing her long brown tresses to spread out over her shoulders like a soft cloak. Her hair reached all the way to the wagon seat. He wondered how she ever managed to stuff it all up under that silly felt hat she often wore. His fingers itched to reach out and touch her hair. Instead he tightened his grip on the reins.

  If only she weren’t so dead set on going to Denver …

  Mason heaved a sigh as he realized his thoughts had ambushed him again. When had he started developing feelings for Bekah? Adjusting his hat, he sneaked another glance. She combed her fingers through her hair, then began rebraiding it. He turned his face forward, concentrating on the fly buzzing around Duke’s head. It was either that or stare at Bekah like an enamored young pup.

  The wagon jostled and squeaked down the dirt trail. The horses’ hooves clip-clopped slowly in the soft dirt and prairie grass. Katie and Jimmy giggled from the back of the wagon as they used stick rifles and pretended to shoot the flock of crows that seemed intent on following them. Mason’s right arm, still supported by Bekah’s sling, felt hot against his chest as the warm afternoon sun beat down on them. He yawned. At least they were no longer fighting that blast of cold that had run in and pelted them with sleet and rain, then hurried back to the north like an ornery kid playing tag.

  Mason slouched forward, resting his good arm on his knee, and closed his eyes. If things went right, in less than a week he’d find Jake, return the kids to him, and put Bekah on a train to Denver. He squeezed his eyes tighter, trying to determine which action would hurt the most. How had

  Bekah managed to wind her way into his life so soundly? Into his heart? Maybe it was just because they were thrown together with no real choice in the matter. He couldn’t exactly have left her alone on the prairie. Then when he got hurt, he needed her even more. He needed her. …

  Mason clenched his jaw. He didn’t need Rebekah. He was going west—alone. If he came to love Bekah, it would be just a matter of time before something took her away from him. And he couldn’t endure losing the woman he loved a second time.

  “Mason, are you in pain?” Bekah’s hand warmed his shoulder where she touched him.

  Pain Yeah, but not the kind she meant. How could he say good-bye to Katie and Jimmy? To Bekah? Why couldn’t something go right in his life—just for once? How far west would he have to go to outrun his pain?

  “Mason? Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. Fine,” he grunted without looking at her.

  “I just hope you aren’t overdoing it.”

  Mason turned a glare on Bekah. “Don’t mollycoddle me.”

  “I …” Bekah turned her head away, but not before he caught a shimmer of tears glazing her eyes.

  Mason snapped the reins, sorry for losing his temper. The four horses had nearly slowed to a crawl as they pulled the heavy wagon up another round-topped hill. “He-yah! C’mon, Duke. Get a move on.”

  “I didn’t realize I was babying you. I’m sorry.” Bekah’s soft whisper sent daggers of condemnation spearing into him.

  Mason pressed two fingers against the bridge of his nose, chastising himself for taking his frustrations out on her. She was only watching out for his welfare. He turned in the seat to face her. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take offense to your watching out for me.”

  She flashed him a brief, tight-lipped smile. “It’s all right.” Rebekah fiddled with her dress, folding a section in her lap and unfolding it. “How much longer do you think it will be fore we get to Tulsa?” She looked up at him, hopeful expectation glistening in her blue eyes. Mason’s gut twisted when he saw her damp eyelashes clinging together in tiny spikes—or maybe it was because of what he had to tell her.

  “Uh … we already passed Tulsa.”

  “When? I never saw it.” Bekah’s eyebrows scrunched together as if she were struggling to remember.

  “We skirted around it yesterday. Sam told me it was quicker to get to th
e Oklahoma Territory going as the crow flies rather than turning off the trail to Tulsa.”

  Bekah nibbled on her bottom lip. “Those train tracks we crossed yesterday went to Tulsa?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I could be heading for Denver right now.”

  Mason winced. Denver again. The woman obviously had a one-track mind. Why did he ever think she’d be interested in a life with him? “My mistake.” There could be no confusing the tone of his voice. “I figured you’d want to stay on with us awhile longer—with me being laid up some.”

  Rebekah turned a hurt gaze toward him. “You could’ve at least asked me before deciding on your own. It was my choice to make.”

  She was right, but in the mood he was in, he didn’t feel like giving her the satisfaction of admitting as much. Instead, he picked up her long braid and flicked it like a whip, then nudged her shoulder with his. “You know what your decision would have been anyway, right?”

  She gave him an indistinguishable stare. Kind of like a hunter staring down a cougar.

  “I’m helpless, remember?” He wiggled his eyebrows and the arm in the sling, ignoring the twinge of pain bolting through his shoulder.

  Her pretty mouth twisted into a wry grimace.

  Mason decided to pull one of Katie’s stunts. “Don’t be mad at me, sugar.” He pressed his lips into a pout.

  Bekah maintained her stoic expression only a few seconds before she tucked in her lips in her effort not to crack a smile, but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away.

  “We could always kiss and make up, like Sam suggested.” Mason gave her an ornery grin then struggled to return his lips to a pout again.

  Bekah crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

  Mason heard a scuffling sound; then Katie popped her head out from the back of the wagon. “What’s the matter? You sad, Unca Mathon?”

  Bekah gave a little laugh that sounded like it came out of her nose.

  “No, sugar, I’m not sad.” He reached back and ruffled her already-messed-up hair. “Just playin’ with Bekah.”