“Are we camping here?”
“I thought we’d get some rest then push on in the morning.”
Evie yawned again. “Sound’s good.”
“When we reach a town, I want you looked at by a doctor.”
“I’m okay.”
“You could’ve died,” His voice flat almost emotionless.
“But I didn’t.” Evie held his gaze, steady, serious. “And I don’t need a doctor, I just need sleep.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, “Close your eyes, rest.”
His abrupt, authoritative tone struck a nerve. Her lips parted, irritation poised for expression then he stepped near the fire. The deep lines of strain on his face killed her ill temper. She took a breath and waited, in silence, as he tended the flames, held his hands out to the warmth.
“Uh, Ben?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Would you mind handing me some clothes?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he picked up the bag, handed it to her.
“Thanks,” Evie patted his hand. “Now find something to do and let me get dressed before I fall asleep.”
Her soft but firm command earned a wry smile and an attempt at good humor. “Okay, but I like you fine as you are.”
“I appreciate that but,” Evie waved a hand out in a broad gesture to indicated their surroundings. “I’d hate to wake up naked as a jaybird if strangers rode by our camp.”
“I see your point,” Animation again left his voice as Ben turned his back to her, moved closer to the fire.
Flames crackled, heat drifted on the air as Evie withdrew what she needed from the bag. Though awkward, she managed to slip into dry clothes within the warm cocoon of blankets. The effort depleted the remnants of her energy.
“All done,” she rasped out, her stubborn pride clear. Wind tossed hair around her face. She watched, amazed, as he walked off. “What are you doing?”
“Getting the rifle.”
“You want to hunt?” her voice rose to make sure he heard.
“I want it at hand.”
The crisp concern evident in his reply reminded Evie of the miles of unfamiliar countryside around them. Her gaze swept their surroundings, “Okay.”
Ben set the weapon down at her feet less than a minute later. He took the time to feed the fire then picked up their wet clothes. As he draped them over various branches, she bowed her head to conceal another yawn and started to get up.
“Stay where you are.”
“I can help.”
“No, stay there.”
Her eyes narrowed at the curt command. “Excuse me?”
“Humor me,” Ben’s voice softened, “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“You need rest.”
Grumpy now she scooted back down, turned on her side and drew the covers up over her shoulders. She allowed her heavy eyelids to close. Her body relaxed and in seconds surrendered to sleep.
Dusk loomed by the time she woke. Evie sat up, blinked, groggy. “Ben?”
“Right here, how are you?”
“I need to get up.”
“Okay,” her husband drew out the word, his tone wary.
Limbs stiff and sore protested motion as she emerged from the blankets. Without sparing him a glance, Evie ignored the shadows that inched over every surface and stumbled away. Not fully awake, she staggered like a drunk toward a thick brush.
“Are you all right?”
Cold, tired, her voice terse, “I’ve had better days.”
“I understand.” His whisper floated through the early evening. She heard his exhaustion clear as day.
His pallor worried her.
“Are you hurting?”
“I’m fine,” His tone rough, weary though Ben shifted his weight from one foot to the other, restless. “You thirsty?”
“Yeah but … ”
Before she could object, he trudged to the river, filled a couple of canteens and returned. When Ben returned, he poured Evie a cup of cool liquid. She took what he offered with a smile then watched amazed as he gulped down a large amount of water.
“Coffee?”
“That’d be wonderful but-”
“You want something to eat with it?”
“Maybe later,” Evie put her empty cup down. “I’m not really hungry and I think you should-”
“You need to eat.”
An unexpected stream of moonlight chased the darkness away. Frustrated with her husband, Evie looked up as she made a silent prayer for patience. The clouds had cleared. Faint glimmers of distant stars were visible. No more rain. Thank God.
“Did you hear what I said?” Irritation colored his tone.
“Sorry,” she stepped up next to Ben, touched his arm in a gesture of apology. Evie noticed he’d lit a lantern and spread out some fixings on the tailgate beside it. “How about I fix something for us while you pour coffee?” Without waiting for his answer, she went over and put meat, butter and bread together then rejoined him, sat down on the edge of the bed. Her voice sweet persuasion, “Please eat for me.”
Once he accepted the food, her attention shifted to her own sandwich. Hunger suddenly became a need, urgent and sank her teeth into stale bread with enthusiasm. Gusts of cold wind blew through the trees, set off a round of shivers. She longed for her cloak to be dry but a quick glance revealed it hung heavy on a nearby branch, dripping. Ben reached behind her, brought a blanket up to her shoulders and tucked it around her.
She snuggled in the welcome warmth, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He handed her a cup of steaming coffee.
Her first sip birthed a murmur of delight. The hot, bitter brew trailed delightful warmth down to her stomach. Some honey would’ve improved it but it wasn’t worth the effort to get back up and find the sweetener. They sat in companionable silence during the meal.
As soon as Ben finished, he got to his feet, fetched a length of rope and tied it between the two trees closest to the fire opposite them. Evie swallowed a sigh, brushed breadcrumbs off her skirt and joined him. Together they transferred all the wet clothing onto it to speed up the drying process.
“I’m going to water Sugar.”
“Ben,” Evie shook her head. “Come sit with me. Rest for a minute, she’s fine.”
“If I sit for long I won’t get back up before morning.”
Her husband looked as if the weight of the world rested on him. Stubborn as ever. She didn’t say another word, knew arguing would be futile. While he was busy with the mare, Evie emptied the canteen into the pot and added a couple spoonfuls of coffee. The tantalizing aroma of strong brew soon filled the air.
Long moments later, with Sugar settled for the night, Ben returned to where she once more sat. He wrapped his coat sleeve around the pot’s handle then carried it over to Evie and studied her in the flickering firelight. “More coffee?”
“Definitely.”
Ben filled their cups, set the pot safely to one side then sat next to her. “Cold.”
“A little.”
Ben shrugged out of his coat and draped it around her.
His body heat radiated from the garment and warmed her on many levels. “Thank you.”
“I should’ve given it to you before. I don’t know where my head is.”
“You’re fine.”
Ben shook his head then drank some coffee. After a few swallows, he set his cup down. He tugged his boots back off and put them close to the fire next to where she just noticed he’d put hers. Out of the bag, he drew out thick wool socks and pulled them on with a groan of satisfaction. He glanced down and before she could pull them out of sight, noticed her bare feet. With another shake of his head, he put another pair over her bare skin.
The simple, thoughtful gesture warmed her heart even as her toes felt like ice.
“How are you doing?” He shifted the blankets so they covered her legs as well.
“I’m fine.”
“How’s your head?�
� Ben waited to ask until she came back.
“Tolerable.”
Side by side, they ate in silence. Evie washed down her last bite with the last of her coffee. After that, Ben refilled her cup repeatedly. They drained the pot over the next several minutes, more out of desire for the heat the hot liquid delivered than real thirst. She laid back, eyes closed, barely noticed when Ben stretched out beside her. For a few seconds, she relaxed then, inevitably, concern started to nag at her and, restless, she had to get up.
Back at the fire, Evie fed dying flames while cold leached up from the dense soil. Shivers rocked her even though she held Ben’s coat tight around her. She shifted from one sock covered foot to another and hovered near the tiny blaze.
“We should move our bed under the wagon in case it starts to rain again.” Ben’s weary voice floated out of the shadows.
Tired to the bone the task seemed enormous, “Must we?”
“It’d be best. I don’t think either of us needs soaked again tonight.”
When Ben stepped into the edges of the fire light, Evie noticed that he looked as tired as she felt. She grimaced but didn’t object further. Together they grabbed the thin pallet, blankets and all and moved it. He immediately crawled into bed.
“Come here, lay down with me.”
“In a minute,” Evie returned to the fire.
Ben pressed her. “I’m still half frozen and I’d wager you feel the same. Together we’ll stay warm as the fire dies down.”
“Yes but … ” Words escaped her, Evie shook her head, she was being silly. “I’ll be right there.” She banked the fire.
“Good,” His tone weary, his brief smile wan, “Hurry.”
“I will,” She grabbed her bag, the rifle and strode back to the wagon quickly, the dark made her heart race.
The night seemed alive with murmurs of life as she stood by the tailgate to repack the supply box without care. Evie told herself she was fine repeatedly under her breath. At last, she shoved the box into the bed, closed the tailgate and put out the lantern. As she knelt down, Ben shifted over, made room for her to scoot in beside him.
“Do you have the rifle?”
Inches separated them, darkness an intimate cocoon. Evie felt Ben’s proximity. She took off the coat, spread it out on top of the blankets then pulled the weapon beneath the covers, against her side.
“Yes.”
“Good,” His voice husky, he reached with one arm and drew her close against him. “So where were we? You like skinny dipping?”
“Yes,” Her head pillowed on his shoulder, she smiled.
His lips grazed her forehead. “I really wish I could remember that.”
His arm tightened around her a second. “Sweet dreams.”
“Sweet dreams,” she echoed.
Soon his even breathing told Evie he slept but she still couldn’t settle down. She breathed deep and steady. When that failed, she counted sheep. Over a hundred wooly creatures jumped through her imagination to no avail. She rolled onto her back, stared up at the wooden boards above her, frustrated.
All of a sudden, Ben started to breathe more deeply. The constant familiar rumble comforted her. The anxiety melted away. Some things never change. Her muscles relaxed and within moments, sleep claimed her.
“Evie,” His urgent whisper jerked her awake shortly after.
Irritated, she glared at Ben and snapped. “What?”
“Shh, quiet, I heard something.”
“What?” She asked again but this time whispered.
Clouds drifted above, covered the moon. She gripped his arm, hard. Her gaze darted around, tried to pierce the shadows.
“I think who might be a better question.”
Distinctive clomps drifted through the gloom. Horses were approaching. She eased up into a sitting position, the rifle in her grip.
“Go,” In a voice taunt with tension, he ordered, “hide.”
Evie scrambled to her feet, grabbed the coat. “But I-”
“Don’t argue, just go.”
“But what if-”
“Now Evie,” Ben flicked a glance at her, his expression fierce as he eased the pistol out of her bag.
Sick with fear and worry, she stumbled away, trusted that her husband wouldn’t have sent her out in the dark without good cause. Sticks snapped under hooves. She moved faster. Ben’s sense of danger had saved them more than once. Even after her vision adjusted to the pitch black, she tripped and almost fell a number of times. Her choices limited Evie crouched in a dense cluster of trees opposite the wagon and waited.
Seconds crawled by like hours. Only desperate people ride in the dead of night, desperate for help or …
The rank odor of stale sweat saturated the air. Two men rode past her, within yards, straight toward the glowing coals of the fire. Dear God. Her body tense as a bow, she held her breath.
Evie shrank further back into the shroud of shadows, prayed they concealed her. She buttoned on Ben’s jacket. One shaking hand at a time, she wiped damp palms on her skirt then took careful aim. Her finger rested against the trigger, ready to squeeze if necessary.
“It’s a little late for visiting, gentlemen.” Ben’s deep voice rang through the night.
Silent expectation ruled the darkness for a heartbeat.
“We want our money Rolfe.” The man on the left responded.
Clouds parted. The moonlight revealed the riders to be the men from Cedar Ridge. Before she decided if that fact relieved or terrified her, a crack sounded somewhere behind her and to her left. She turned. Her gaze caught the movement of a person creeping toward Ben.
Evie brought her weapon to bear and in a low, lethal tone warned. “Stop right there or I’ll put a hole in your gut.”
The man froze then slowly turned his face and stared in her direction. Evie’s skin crawled. Shadows twisted his features into a sinister mask. She tightened her grip on the smooth wood of her rifle stock but didn’t waver.
“Walk over and join your friends slow and easy now.” Evie ordered. She wanted the men gathered in one place. “Any sudden moves and I’ll show you just how good a shot I am.”
“Yes ma’am.” He replied, his voice tinged with insolence, and then with exaggerated slowness complied.
Evie kept him in her sights every step of the way. Nerves taut with fear, she kept her finger on the trigger, ready to address any threat.
“I’ve nothing for you.” Ben announced when they reached the others. He cocked the pistol, the sound ominous. “It’s best you Gentlemen ride on.”
One of the mounted men pulled his cohort up on his horse behind him. “This isn’t settled Rolfe, not by a long shot.”
His expression grim in a cast of moonlight, Ben offered no response. A long moment passed in edgy silence then the men rode off, disappeared. Tension palatable, Evie locked gazes with her husband. They waited, listened long after the hoof beats faded into the distance.
Her ears strained for any sound that the men doubled back but heard nothing alarming. Night sounds had resumed. Crickets chirped. Frogs croaked. Still, Evie couldn’t calm down. She took a step toward Ben.
“Go hide in another spot.”
The barely audible words sent fresh fear skittering down her spine. Her voice hushed, “You think they’ll come back?”
“They followed us all this time only to give up without a fight, not even an argument? Way too easy to believe. I doubt they went far and I’m certain they’ll be back.”
Evie slumped. She lowered the rifle from her shoulder and cradled it, waited. Weariness pushed against her need to take action. Her steps dragged as she moved to a new position some yards to her husband’s left.
Evie leaned against a tree, and waited. Over time when nothing happened her eyes drifted half-shut. The faint call of a coyote, a lonely song from nature, became her lullaby. In the next heartbeat, her peace shattered.
Her eyes opened wide. The thunder of several horses shook the earth beneath her feet. Evie straightened,
terrified.
Cold fingers reached out and brushed hair off her face. A scream crawled up her throat then died before it crossed her lips as her eyes narrowed to slits and she shot daggers at Ben. Before she could give him a piece of her mind, a large group of riders rode into their camp guns drawn.
Control hung by a thread. It hurt to breathe. She brought the rifle up once more. Ben took aim beside her.
“I’m Sheriff Myers.” The man in the lead of at least a dozen others spoke in a voice that rang with authority. “Don’t make my men beat the brush for you. Things will go easier if you boys step out now.”
“Sheriff,” Her jaw dropped as Ben lowered his pistol and complied. “We’re glad to see you.”
“We?” Sheriff Myers pounced on that information. His gaze found her in seconds. Her fingers tightened into a painful grip on the weapon, her only defense. “Ma’am.”
“Sweetheart, put the rifle down. I’m certain the sheriff and his men will help us.”
A rushing sound filled her ears. Ben’s calm voice seemed to come from far away. The weight of numerous stares further unsettled her. Evie swayed. Hysterical laughter threatened to spill from her lips as she lowered the weapon.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d join us.” The undercurrent of steel in the sheriff’s polite tone made it clear it wasn’t a request but a command.
A couple of men dismounted and collected their weapons while Evie walked to Ben’s side. His arm curved around her as the lawman dismounted, stepped close then blistered her ears with an explosive curse.
“Sorry about the language ma’am.” His tone echoed pure frustration. Sheriff Myers holstered his revolver. “We’re hunting three cowards who robbed an old widow woman.” He ripped off his hat, slapped it against his thigh then slammed it back on his balding head. “Their trail led here. When we spotted your fire, we thought we’d caught them.”
“We’re not criminals.”
“I’m inclined to believe you ma’am. I-”
“But those men were here.”
“You know them?” The weathered man’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, his hand on the butt of his gun.
Exasperated, she burst out. “I didn’t say that.”
“Honey, calm down,” Ben patted her hand. “Let me handle this.” His steady gaze held hers until Evie nodded then he turned to meet Sheriff Myers scrutiny. “Three men rode up an hour ago, maybe less. We had a run in with two of them before back in Cedar Ridge.”
Lori Connelly Page 15