Runaway

Gruff and abrupt, his approval pleased her nonetheless, and she tucked away her pleasure at his thoughtfulness.

She watched him as he packed his gear, loading the mule in a systematic fashion, balancing his packs, one on either side, tugging and testing the ropes.

“Fold up that blanket and bring it here,” Will called impatiently from the other side of his horse.

Cassie folded the rough fabric quickly and limped to where he worked at the cinch, watching as he pulled the stirrup into place. His hands reached for the blanket, and he arranged it behind his saddle, then lifted her with an ease that left her breathless, settling her as he had yesterday, astride the horse’s back.

The animal shifted beneath her and she held the back of his saddle, balancing herself as the blanket slid in place.

“Whoa, there,” he ordered sternly, approaching with the mule’s lead line in hand. He wrapped it around the saddle horn twice, then eased his way up, his foot and leg coming perilously close as he seated himself in front of Cassie. Looking back at her over his shoulder, he scowled. “Hangin’ on all right?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.” Fine or not, it beat walking, and she’d be a fool to complain.

The noon meal was a godsend, as far as Cassie was concerned. Will had caught sight of a fat rabbit just ahead, and his gun had brought down the small game with one shot.

“My pa said you should never turn down a meal when it’s offered,” he said, lifting Cassie from behind his saddle. He pressed the blanket into her hands and led the animals to be tied to a nearby tree.

She spread the blanket and watched as he prepared the rabbit for their meal, his movements quick and knowledgeable. “Looks like you’re an old hand at that,” she said as he readied a fire, lighting the small pieces of kindling with a match from his pack.

His shoulders rose in a shrug. “Yeah, I guess. I was in charge of hunting game back home. If I didn’t bring home a rabbit or squirrel—or better yet, a deer—once in a while, we didn’t eat much meat those first couple of years on the farm. Ma said she wasn’t wastin’ her chickens on the dinner table. The eggs were worth more in town than the hens were, cookin’ in a stew pot We ate up the roosters, soon as they were big enough to fry, then it was back to the wild game.”

“How many of you were there?” Cassie asked, cross-legged on the blanket, feeling useless in the face of his dinner preparations.

“Ma and Pa had four of us. My sister, Josie, and two other boys.” Spitting the rabbit, he settled it over the fire, then mixed cornmeal with water from his metal flask. A small pan from his pack held the mixture, and he placed it on a rock at the edge of the coals.

“Will it cook like that?” She’d baked corn pone in an oven, but trail cooking was beyond her.

“The rock’s pickin’ up heat from the fire.” He tossed a thick flannel pad her way. “Turn the pan once in a while. It oughta be done about the time the rabbit is.”

She nodded agreeably. Will Tolliver was turning out to be the best thing that had happened to her in a long while. Whether he tired of her company in day or so, or if he took her as far north as he was heading, anything was better than her stepfather’s shack in Loco Junction.

It had been a long slide downhill the past three years. Her flesh crawled as she thought again of the man her mother had married. She shivered, remembering the feel of the knife in her hand, shuddered as she recalled the flow of blood that had stained her fingers, pooling beneath Remus as he slumped to the floor.

I killed him. Cassie’s eyes closed, then flew open as she beheld the vision of death she’d left behind. Lips pressed together tightly, she breathed the fresh air, the scent of meat roasting over the fire, the clean smell of freedom.

“We’ve got company.” Will stood, a casual gesture, stepping a few feet from where she sat to stand next to his rifle, which was snugged against his pack.

Cassie felt the hair rise on the back of her neck, and turned her head to view the approaching horseman. Tall, rugged and riding as if he were a part of the animal he straddled, the man neared. His hat shielding his face, both hands visible on the reins, he rode in from the south, as if he had followed their trail.

“Howdy there, folks.” He was within hailing distance and he slowed his horse to a walk. The animal nickered, and Will’s big stallion responded, a shrill challenge, jerking on the reins that held him fast to a tree.

“Behave yourself, horse,” Will growled, impatience tingeing his words, then he thumbed his hat back, calling out to the approaching horseman, “Hello yourself, stranger. You lost your way?”

The horse halted several yards away and the visitor lifted a hand to push aside his coat, revealing a silver star pinned to his shirt. “Nope, just takin’ a look around.” His gaze swept the area, a wide open space, only a few trees for shade and a sparsely grassed field. “You folks from here-abouts?”

“No, sir,” Will answered, casting a quick glance at Cassie— a warning glance, if she was any judge.

“This your missus?” The lawman nodded at her, and Cassie dredged up a smile as his deep-set eyes scanned her from top to bottom.

“Yeah, this is Sarah Jane. I’m Will Tolliver, Sheriff.”

Cassie caught her breath. In one short sentence she’d had her name changed and been tagged a married woman. Her smile trembled as she brought up one hand to shade her eyes.

“Haven’t seen a young woman hereabouts, have you?” the lawman asked, his gaze still fixed on Cassie’s borrowed clothing.

“A young woman?” Will looked perplexed, then glanced at his female companion. “We haven’t noticed anyone around about, have we, honey?” His grin appeared then, his demeanor transformed as he kicked at a small stone with the toe of his boot. “Of course, we’ve been kinda…”

His pause was lengthy and he cleared his throat. “Well, we haven’t been married too long, Sheriff, and we don’t pay a whole lot of attention to anybody but ourselves, to tell the truth.”

“Is that so?” The horse sidestepped and the lawman tightened up on his reins. “Well, if you should come across a young gal, you might want to keep an eye out She’s wanted back in Loco Junction. The sheriff wants to talk to her.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Will said, frowning and shaking his head. “She considered dangerous?”

The sheriff nodded. “Maybe so, under the right circumstances. She’s pretty young. I’d hate to think of her bein’ alone, out on her own.”

Cassie inhaled sharply and closed her eyes.

“I believe you’ve upset my wife, Sheriff. She’s a quiet sort, my Sarah Jane.”

Cassie opened her eyes, forcing her mouth to curve in what she hoped looked like a shy smile, befitting Sarah Jane Tolliver. Her heart was thumping with an irregular beat, and she felt stifled by the weight of guilt pressing on her chest. Will Tolliver had lied for her. He’d put himself on the line.

“We’ll sure keep our eyes open, Sheriff,” Will said, easing back to the fire, turning the spit, even as he cast a look of warning at Cassie.

She returned it with a bland smile, wary of matching wits with the lawman, her eyes trained on the man who’d just claimed to be her husband. She watched as Will’s fist uncurled, focused on the lean, strong fingers, the muscled forearm where his shirtsleeve was rolled almost to his elbow.

Her gaze swept higher and found his eyes intent upon her. From the brown depths he watched her, and she quailed beneath that look. As if he saw within her very soul, as if he could pierce her thoughts, discern the knowledge she held, his watchful eye penetrated her guise of calm control.

She’d managed to arrange her features in such a way that the sheriff had gone on his way, apparently not associating the shy young bride, Sarah Jane, with the woman who had wielded a knife in the town of Loco Junction. She’d managed to smile, hiding the thundering heartbeat, the clammy palms and the mouth that twitched alarmingly unless she held it firmly in place with the force of her will.

And the man before her had seen beyond all that. The unblinking look was less than an accusation; it held a question whose content she could only surmise.

“You never answered me, did you?” His tone was harsh. “I asked if you were in bad trouble, yesterday. And you offered me an easy out. You told me to go ahead and leave you there.” He cast one last glance at the figure of the lawman, heading south on his horse at an easy canter, then bent to turn the spit once more.

Cassie cleared her throat. It was time to face the truth, as much as she was able. She’d accepted his help, allowed him to put his honor on the line for her. She’d trespassed on that honor in an unforgivable manner, and now she struggled, wishing she could make it right. Wondering if there was any way to apologize to a man for forcing him to lie outright to the law, placing him in a hazardous position.

“I didn’t lie to you yesterday,” she said, rising to stand before him. Somehow she felt more secure on her feet, as if she were better able to run, should it become necessary. Though thinking she could escape Will Tolliver was a foolish thought indeed.

“You didn’t lie?” He repeated her words, his tone mocking, prompting her reply.

She shook her head. “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you the truth.” Her mouth twisted and her hands fisted at her sides. “I ran off from my stepfather. He’s a cruel man and I was afraid of him. That sheriff was probably looking for me. At least, the description fit.”

His gaze narrowed on her. “You think so? He said he was looking for a young gal. Could be any one of a hundred women hereabouts.” As if he reconsidered, he looked around him at the vast horizon, unmarred by human habitation. “Well, maybe twenty or so, anyway.” His eyes softened, the darkness fading from his somber gaze.

“Sit back down, Cassie. I think it’s time you told me what happened.”

She obeyed, more because her legs were trembling beneath her than for any urge to oblige him. “Remus Chandler was…is my stepfather. I think maybe for a long time he wanted to…” She looked up, knowing her eyes were filling with tears, and choking back the need to cry.

Stripping the bandanna from his throat, Will handed it to her.