Trail of Aces (Hot on the Trail Book 8)

by Merry Farmer

  “Well, I’m glad to see the two of you smiling.”

  Every bit of Charlie’s good humor dried up as Chet strolled up to walk alongside them. Charlie frowned and crossed behind Olivia to put himself between her and Chet. She didn’t seem to mind.

  “What business do you have with us, Chet?” They were long past the days where the two of them could act like friends, particularly if Chet had murder on his mind.

  “Haven’t we always had business together?” Looking at Chet’s fond smile would convince anyone who didn’t know better that the three of them were fast friends.

  “We had business together in the past,” Charlie said. “It’s not the past anymore. We’d all be a damned sight better off if you left the train at the next fort or waystation, and found something better to do with yourself.”

  Chet laughed. “We both know that’s not going to happen. Not until I get what’s owed me.”

  What Charlie owed him was a punch in the face. He didn’t even bother smiling at the sly comment. Charlie kept his eyes on the rutted trail they walked, looking for where Pete rode his horse in front of them in case he needed help.

  “It seems to me that Charlie doesn’t owe you anything at all,” Olivia said. The firmness in her voice would have surprised Charlie, but for the way she squeezed his hand white in fear. “The two of you have done quite enough for each other already.”

  “You think so?” Chet laughed. “Well, you can think what you’d like, but just remember, I’m not the kind of man to let bygones be bygones. Particularly not when a year of effort went into securing those bygones. As long as you have what’s rightfully mine, you’d do well to look out for accidents on the trail. Good day to you.”

  Before Charlie or Olivia could say anything else, Chet tipped his hat and turned to walk in the other direction, slipping down the line of lumbering wagons.

  “That man has some nerve,” Olivia said. It was a far braver comment than Charlie would have imagined her making a few weeks ago, at the beginning of the journey.

  “That man has one thing on his mind, like a dog with a bone,” Charlie agreed. Unfortunately, like a dog with a bone, he’d keep on gnawing and gnawing until he gnawed somebody’s leg off. “You need to be careful,” he added, to himself as much as to Olivia.

  They walked for only a few hours more before setting up camp for the night. The landscape of Idaho Territory was some of the prettiest they’d camped in so far. The Snake River may have been trouble, but it was clear and made a soothing sound as it burbled past. The grass was lusher than on the prairie, and there were more trees. It still wasn’t like the grand forests of the east, but it was starting to have that feel again. Charlie had always felt more comfortable in forests than on flat plains. There were more places to hide in forests, more hills to duck behind and caves to seek shelter in. In fact—

  The idea hit him halfway through helping Olivia put away their supper things after a hearty meal using new supplies from Ft. Hood. He stood abruptly from the back of the wagon, where Olivia was stashing their food supplies and cleaned dishes, and glanced around. A gentle breeze blew through the treetops. Only a few clouds above hid the brilliant blanket of stars that made up the night sky. The moon shone bright, giving the clearing where the wagons camped a silvery glow. Far to the north, a trail of smoke indicated some kind of settlement or camp, miles away.

  Miles away.

  “Do you think you’ll be all right on your own for a few minutes?” he asked Olivia as his thoughts came together into a plan.

  Olivia shifted to a crouch and blinked at him from the back of the wagon. She wore someone else’s clothes, and her hair was in need of brushing, but the determination that painted her face was strong enough to move mountains. “Charlie, you don’t have to watch out for me every second of every day. I’ll be fine. We’re camped. Our neighbors are all around us.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Chet isn’t going to sneak up on me with a cudgel and beat me over the head.”

  Charlie grinned, but more for his new plan than the image she presented. He surged forward to peck a kiss on her cheek. She jerked in surprise. That was his fault. He should be kissing her much more often so that a little thing like that didn’t surprise her. They were so close to turning the page and stepping into the next chapter of their lives that in no time at all, he’d be able to kiss her until they were both senseless.

  “I have to find Pete and ask him something,” he said, fairly certain all of his thoughts were there, bright as day, in his face.

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured him.

  Even so, as he jogged away from their wagon, he made a quick side trip to tell Graham and Bob to wander by and strike up a conversation with Olivia. Not only would she be protected that way, she’d be distracted as well.

  “Pete, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Charlie finally found Pete down by the river’s edge with Freddy and Muriel. They all held fishing rods of some sort and watched the water as though they were trying to hook supper.

  Pete tugged his line out of the water. “You two keep trying,” he told the kids before sauntering up the bank to meet Charlie. “Is it Olivia?” he asked in a low voice so the children wouldn’t hear. “Is Chet causing her trouble again?”

  “Yes and no.” When Pete frowned in confusion, Charlie went on. “My old friend has got his eye on the prize, and I’m afraid he won’t give any of us a moment’s peace until he’s either got what he wants or realizes he can’t have it.”

  Pete shifted his weight and rubbed his chin. “Graham told me you think he’s somehow responsible for the Hamiltons’ wagon crashing.”

  “I can’t prove anything.” Charlie shrugged, holding his hands out. “I only know what I know to be true of the man. Trouble is, I know that he won’t stop until someone’s been hurt.”

  “If Chet Devlin—or you—harms a single person on my wagon train, so help me, I’ll dump you by the side of the road myself,” Pete growled.

  Any other day, Charlie would have bent over backwards to earn the trust and respect that he knew Pete didn’t have for him. Only this time, that lack of trust was more likely to help him. It meant Pete wouldn’t get in the way of what he wanted to do.

  “I’m taking Olivia and leaving the wagon train,” he announced before he could talk himself out of his own idea.

  “What?” Pete gaped at him as if he’d gone mad.

  Maybe he had.

  He took half a step closer to Pete and lowered his voice. “Chet will only cause trouble as long as I’m here. I know what he wants from me, and if I take that and myself and leave, he’ll come after me.”

  “Then leave,” Pete growled. “But don’t put Olivia through all this.”

  Charlie shook his head. “I’m not leaving her. I’m not leaving her side ever again.” A well of emotion soaring up from his heart threatened to choke him. “That woman is the best thing that ever happened to me. It was a mistake—a joke, even—for the two of us to get married when we did, but it happened. You were there when Rev. Kilpatrick said the words. What God has joined together, no man will put asunder. Well, I’m taking her with me, and I’ll have words with anyone who wants to try to sunder us.”

  He finished his speech with a nod. Pete stared at him for a few more seconds, then blew out a breath and swiped his hat from his head.

  “All right, I believe you,” he said.

  “What?” Charlie frowned.

  “All this time, I didn’t believe you really cared about Olivia. I’ll admit it. I thought you were just playing with her, like she was some light skirt you wanted to toy with. I believe you love her now.”

  “You’re damn right I love her.” Charlie squared his shoulders, willing to knock Pete or anyone else down who doubted the ferocity of that love.

  “Okay. So tell me what you want to do,” Pete said.

  An hour later, as the camp was settling in for the night, everything was set from Pete’s end. Charlie marched back through the dark camp, thanking th
e trees and a sudden bank of clouds for the shadows that fell all around them.

  “Did Chet come by at all?” Charlie asked Graham as he approached his wagon. Olivia was already working on spreading out both of their bedrolls, making things as comfortable as they could be for the night. Too bad her efforts were going to be for naught.

  “He spent some time stalking around the area, looking in this direction,” Graham confirmed. “He never came over, though.”

  “Good. You’re a good friend, Graham.” Charlie slapped him on the back.

  Graham eyed him suspiciously. “What’s that all about?”

  “Just thanking people who need thanks,” Charlie said. “Oh, and you wouldn’t happen to have a couple spare bedrolls I could borrow, would you?”

  “Estelle probably does in the crew wagon.” Graham crossed his arms. “What’s this all about?”

  “A plan to keep Olivia safe,” Charlie answered. “If you wouldn’t mind watching over her for just one more minute.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Charlie thumped him on the back again, then hurried off to secure the bedrolls…and the horse Pete said he could borrow. The line of camps beside the wagons and sleepy oxen settled as, one by one, the groups of families and other travelers bedded down for the night. Charlie took his horse and the supplies Estelle had put together for him to the edge of the tree line, then headed back to his wagon.

  “There you are,” Olivia said as he approached. Her hair was down and she looked ready for bed.

  Charlie cursed inwardly. This would be easier if she were asleep.

  “What took you so long?” she asked.

  “I had to…arrange a few things,” he said. He hopped into the back of the wagon, reaching for the sack Olivia had been storing her belongings in since the crash in the river. He scrambled as fast as he could in the dark to find his treasure chest and thrust it into the sack, then added whatever clothes he could stuff in on a moment’s notice on top. It only took him about three minutes, but Olivia was waiting at the back of the wagon, fists on her hips, her stern frown highlighted by the moonlight that broke through thin spots in the clouds.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered. At least she was being careful not to wake people up.

  “Come here,” he said, heart pounding a mile a minute in his chest. “I need to show you something.”

  Olivia huffed out a sigh and took his hand when he offered it. He slung the sack over his shoulder and rushed away from the camps with her.

  “Why are you carrying that?” she asked as they neared the edge of the trees. “And whose horse is this?” Her tone had gone from demanding to curious to anxious within the space of a few yards. “Charlie, what’s going on?”

  He reached the horse and threw the sack up over the saddle, securing it with the rope Estelle had loaned him. Then he turned to Olivia and swept her up onto the front of the saddle.

  “Charlie, stop,” she demanded.

  “No time to stop now, Sweet Pea,” he said, grabbing the saddle and swinging up to mount. As soon as he was secure, he adjusted Olivia to sit snugly in front of him. It was only then, when her skirt hiked up over her knees as she sat astride, that he realized she didn’t have any shoes. Damn. It was too late now. He nudged the horse into motion, turning it and riding deeper into the forest.

  “You need to stop and tell me what you’re doing right now, Charlie,” Olivia growled.

  At last, as he urged the horse into a jog, a grin split Charlie’s face. “What does it look like I’m doing, Sweet Pea? I’m kidnapping you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Olivia wanted to scream. She’d never wanted to scream more in her life. But when Charlie had first grabbed her hand and rushed her away from the camp, she hadn’t yet realized there was anything to scream about. When he’d hoisted her up onto the horse—whosever horse it was, since Charlie didn’t own one—she’d been too discombobulated to scream. No, it wasn’t until Charlie gleefully announced that he was kidnapping her that the scream swirled up from the bottom of her gut.

  She didn’t let it come out, though.

  “What do you mean, kidnapping me?” she hissed as the horse picked its way through the trees with only moonlight to guide it.

  “Ssh.” He silenced her by slinking an arm around her waist and pressing her close. “Not until we get well out of earshot of the wagon train.”

  Olivia pressed her lips together and scowled. She’d spotted Pete out of the corner of her eye as Charlie lifted her onto the horse. Why hadn’t he said or done anything to stop Charlie from carrying out this harebrained idea? Where did Charlie think he was going anyhow? Those questions and more battled to be asked, but for some foolhardy reason, Olivia kept her mouth shut.

  Angry and bewildered as she was, Charlie’s firm chest and abdomen made a tempting wall for her back to rest against. He was tense, whether with his scheme or from riding, she didn’t know. In spite of the jostling of the horse—especially when Charlie found some sort of path and urged the animal to jog faster—Charlie’s arms around her and his thighs pressing against hers filled her with a pulsing sort of warmth. For half a second, she caught herself wriggling her hips to see if she could feel a certain firm spear against her backside.

  The fact that she couldn’t was not a good sign. That she was even thinking about these things in the first place as Charlie rode on into dark, tree-filled wilderness, while she wore ill-fitting, borrowed clothes and no shoes—

  Blast. She should have thought to put on shoes when Charlie demanded she go with him.

  “I don’t know why you’re dragging me out into the forest in the middle of the night, but could we please go back so I can get my shoes?” she groused.

  “No time.”

  He wasn’t teasing. This wasn’t a joke. Olivia caught her breath and focused on what was actually happening, where she actually was. It was well after dark, the moon kept skittering in and out of clouds, illuminating, then darkening the forest around them. The path that the horse had found and was following—far faster than any animal should have in the dark—was wild and unfamiliar. There could have been bears out there somewhere, wolves. For all she knew, there could have been jackals and tigers.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, far more anxious than she wanted to sound.

  “Away from the wagon train,” Charlie said. “I’ll explain when we get far enough away.”

  Olivia swallowed. “How far is far enough?”

  “We’ll see.”

  The joke was definitely over. Dread turned Olivia’s stomach, the squeeze of Charlie’s arms around her as he alternately tried to grip the horse’s reins and hold her steady heightened her sick feeling. She would have struggled, jumped down, run off or demanded answers, but not in her stocking feet, and not when the horse was moving so fast. Maybe Charlie had deliberately taken her away without shoes.

  “You’d better have a very good explanation for this, Charlie Garrett,” she hissed, turning her head just enough to catch sight of his determined face.

  “Oh, I do, Sweet Pea.”

  She didn’t dare say anything else as they jogged on into the darkness. When the ground sloped up, Charlie had to slow the horse. The trees were thicker around them. Olivia had never seen trees like these before. She could tell some were pines, but she’d never seen anything with such tall, thick trunks. They weren’t like the stories she’d heard of trees so huge six people could stand abreast on a fallen stump, but they certainly weren’t like home. The air didn’t smell like home either. It was rich and verdant with life, but foreign.

  “Charlie, I’m frightened,” she said when she felt as if they’d ridden for hours, right off the map. It was a touch manipulative, but her comment hit its mark.

  Charlie pulled the horse to a stop. “I’m sorry.” He relaxed his grip on the reins and hugged her from behind. “I had to do it.”

  “Had to do what?” Inch by inch, her anger began to grow again.

  “Had to get you away
from Chet.”

  A blossom of affection swelled in her heart. He was trying to protect her.

  That blossom was squashed at the sound of some huge night bird calling close by. She twisted on the saddle as best she could to glare at him.

  “Chet may be dangerous, but at least in the wagon train we had dozens of men to help keep him from trying anything. Out here, who do we have?”

  “We have each other, Sweet Pea.” The grin that split his face was so self-satisfied that Olivia wanted to smack him.

  She blinked, then went right ahead and followed her first instinct, and smacked him. Lucky for Charlie, her slap was weak and clumsy, and when she missed her mark and knocked his hat off, he laughed.

  “Why are you laughing at a time like this?” At last, she let herself shout. Several birds took flight in a nearby tree, and the skittering of small ground creatures through undergrowth sent a chill down her spine. “We’re lost in the woods in the middle of nowhere with no supplies, no idea where we’re going, and none of the skills needed to survive in a place like this.”

  “And right now, that’s the best place for us to be as far as I’m concerned,” Charlie told her, still smiling. “My, Sweet Pea, you’ve grown downright feisty in the wilderness. I like it.”

  He kissed her, then shifted, and before Olivia could protest or stop him, he dismounted, dragging her with him. Neither of them were particularly graceful, and as he stumbled, she flailed and fell against him. The horse jumped and stepped to the side. For a second, Olivia was afraid it would run off, leaving them even more in the lurch.

  “Whoa. Whoa there.” Charlie chased after the horse as it started to amble away. He caught the reins and turned it, leading it back to the spot where Olivia stood—old pine needles and heaven only knew what else prickling her bare feet. “I packed all sorts of supplies before I snatched you, my darling.” He lifted the flap of the saddlebag and tugged out a shapeless, wrapped bundle. “We’ve got food, a tinderbox, some rope, and these bedrolls.”