A Life Restored (9 page)

Round blue eyes stared at her in surprise.
 
“Really?”

“Mm, hmm.”

Taking the next sheet in the stack she made up the next bunk.

“Guess I didn’t figure him for the church going type.”

“Well, maybe you figured him wrong,” she shot back, a little too quickly.
 
Though Betty admitted she often wondered where Ben Shepherd’s heart lay.
 
She was just too scared to ask in case she was wrong.

When she rubbed her back a second time, Paul took the next sheet from her hand.
 
“I’ll finish this.
 
Why don’t you go start supper?”

“I can do it,” she argued, though she was glad to let him see to the chore.
 
“You shouldn’t have to do women’s work.”

“And you should never have had to do men’s work.
 
But you did anyway.
 
Blame yourself, Ma.
 
You raised a thoughtful son.”
 
He shot her a big grin before shooing her from the bunkhouse.

“Yes I did,” she said softly, shooting praise from her heart to heaven for her son.

Chapter 11

Caroline startled at the feel of a body next to her.
 
Her eyes flew open.
 
A hand clamped down over her mouth.
 
She sucked in a sharp breath through her nose.
 
Fear latched onto her heart.

“Shh.”

Thomas’s breath warmed her ear.
 
Her panic doubled as his hand remained tightly over her mouth.
 
She felt him pressed up behind her as she lay on the ground.
 
The saddles separating them last night were gone.
 
His arms were strong and his grip firm.
 
Any previous trust she had in him dimmed as her mind raced with the possibilities of what was to come next.

He whispered, “Look towards the western horizon.”

Slowly she craned her head.
 
The sky behind her barely lit with early dawn light.
 
On the western horizon, dust kicked up.
 
Cattle.
 
A lot of cattle.

“Rustlers.”

Confused, she waited for Thomas to continue, his hand still firmly covering her lips.
 
The smell of dust and horse engrained on his hand filled her lungs with each breath.

“If it’s who I think it is, we need to take cover.
 
These are dangerous men—not the kind we want to meet so far from help.”

Her eyes widened in terror.
 
She nodded her head to show her willingness to do whatever he asked.

“There’s a small cluster of trees to the northeast of us.
 
We have to move quickly, but very quietly.”

She nodded again.

“I have the horses saddled, but I think it would be safer to walk them.
 
If I remove my hand, do I have your promise that you won’t utter a word?”

Bobbing her head up and down, she waited for him to release her.

“Follow me.”

His arms loosened their hold. Then he jumped to his feet noiselessly with such grace that made her wonder if he often found himself in dangerous situations.
 
He held out his hand to help her up before grabbing the blanket from her.
 
He motioned for her to carry it.

Handing the reins to her, he took his rifle from its sheath.
 
Then he started to lead his horse towards the trees.
 
She obediently followed behind, heart thundering in her chest.
 
Sweat beaded on her forehead and palms.
 
Her breath came in short shallow bursts.
 
Why, oh why had she not listened to Millie?

A few times he pointed towards the ground, helping her navigate a small obstacle or two.
 
The distance to the trees seemed to take hours to reach.
 
In reality, it could not have been more than ten minutes.

Once they arrived, Thomas leaned his rifle up against a tree.
 
He took the two horses and tied them where they would be hidden from the rustlers’ view.
 
Then he motioned for her to come to the tree he stood behind.
 
She did.

He pulled her to him and her heart pounded out a furious beat.
 
She stared at his lips as he lowered his head.
 
At the last second he steered his lips towards her ear, dashing her hopes of a repeat of last night’s kiss.

“Stay here.”

Then he stepped back and started to move away.
 
She grabbed his arm.

“Where are you going?”

He quickly pressed a finger to his lips, requesting her silence.
 
He pointed towards a tree near the edge of the open plains.
 
Then he walked to it with his rifle in hand.
 
Once he arrived at the tree, he crouched down, barely visible from her vantage point.

She let out a shaky breath and sunk to the ground behind the cover of the tree.

The sun moved higher, casting a glow on the tall grass covering the valley floor.
 
The mountains to the north glowed with touches of gold where the sun teased the highest points.
 
Deep purple blue shadows filled the crevices.
 
To the west, the dust of the stolen cattle appeared to move farther away.

Caroline’s breathing evened out as more time passed.
 
She waited, wondering how long before they would press on.

Warmth dusted her cheeks as she remembered his kiss from last night.
 
The softness of his lips against hers.
 
The way he craved her closeness and drank in her response.
 
A new awakening unfolded in her heart like the blooming petals of a rose.
 
She could never kiss a man now without comparing it to Thomas’s fiery kiss.

She wondered what she should expect once they got to Prescott.
 
Would she see him again?
 
Should she?
 
She knew so very little about him.
 
Where had he come from?
 
His accent sounded like he was from the North, but it was nothing so obvious like the man she once met from Boston.
 
Thomas’s speech seemed somewhat refined—like he was educated and intelligent.
 
He was completely calm in the face of danger.
 
His eyes had taken on coolness.
 
His posture projected confidence as he led her to their present hiding spot.

For some reason beyond her understanding, she felt drawn to him.
 
She hoped she would see more of him once they arrived in Prescott.

A hand touched her shoulder.
 
She shrieked, clutching a hand to her chest.
 
As she jumped to her feet, she realized Thomas was back.
 
She hadn’t heard him.

“I think it’s safe to move on,” he said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.
 
“There’s only one station left between here and Prescott.
 
At the base of the mountain.
 
I’d like to get us back to Prescott tonight, but that’ll depend on how much ground we cover this morning.
 
Already lost more time than I would have liked.”

Caroline swallowed, suddenly feeling very tired of this slow journey, longing for it to be over.
 
He helped her onto her horse before mounting his own.
 
Then he set the pace towards the mountains at a slow trot.

The sun heated her back to an uncomfortable degree.
 
Sweat trickled down her spine.
 
Her stinging cheeks rebelled against the sun’s intensity.
 
She reached for her canteen and took a few sips even though she longed to drink her fill.
 
She had no way of knowing how long it would be before they found more water.
 
She noted Thomas rarely sipped from his canteen and it concerned her.

As perspiration coated her forehead, she began to feel ill.
 
At first a little dizzy, then nauseated.
 
She needed to stop.
 
Just for a few minutes until it passed.

She pushed her horse a little faster to catch up with him.

“Can we stop?”

“I’d rather not,” he answered without looking at her.

“I’m stopping.”

“Suit yourself.” Thomas made no move to slow his horse.

Caroline let out a long sigh as she reined in her horse.
 
As she slid off the animal, her foot caught in the stirrup.
 
Instead of the graceful dismount she planned, she landed in a heap on her back side as the air left her lungs in a
whoosh
.

The commotion must have captured his attention, because he turned and rode back to where she sat on the ground.
 
A frown crunched his eyebrows together.
 
With an exasperated sigh, he dismounted his horse and walked towards her.

Hauling her to her feet, he said, “Be quick about your business.”
 
Then he turned his back.

The nausea intensified and she stood there with her hand pressed against her forehead.
 
Closing her eyes, she waited for the dizziness to cease.

“What are you waiting for?”

Eyes still closed, she felt his hands grip her arms just as her knees began to buckle.

Instantly, his tone softened.
 
“Caroline.
 
Look at me.”

She slowly opened her eyes, still not feeling herself.
 
He raised her bandaged hand.
 
The one she cut on the stagecoach hitch.
 
The one she forgot to clean and re-bandage last night.

“What is this?”

“It’s nothing.”

Cocking his head to one side, he raised an eyebrow.
 
“Nothing, huh?”

He began unwrapping the filthy bandage from her hand.
 
She looked away.
 
Afraid of what it might look like.
 
As bandage slipped from her hand, she heard his gasp.
 
Tears stung her eyes.

“How… How bad is it?” she asked.

Clearing his throat, Thomas said, “It isn’t great.
 
But, I’ve seen far worse.”

Glancing down, Caroline chanced looking at her hand.
 
The skin around the deep cut was puffy, swollen, and very red.
 
The festering puss she expected was not there.
 
Blood oozed slowly from the wound.
 
Not nearly as bad as she feared.

He kneeled down and started to lift the hem of her skirt.

“What are you doing?”
 
She swatted at him.

“Cutting a strip of fabric for a bandage.”

“Unhand my dress!”

“Fine.”
 
He stood abruptly.

Grabbing the knife from his hand, she swirled her finger, motioning for him to turn around.

Kneeling down, she cut another length from her shrinking petticoat.
 
When she finished, she tapped him on the shoulder and handed his knife back.
 
She started to wrap her bad hand.

“Wait.”

Not thinking it was such a good idea to leave the wound exposed, she ignored his command.
 
He whipped the bandage from her hand and stalked off toward his horse.
 
After rooting around in his saddle bags for a minute, he returned with a small vile.

“Why do you have to be so difficult?” he grumbled as he took her hand.
 
Squeezing a few drops of iodine from the vile onto the cut, he smiled at her sharp intake of breath.
 
“Might sting a bit.”

“A bit!”

Caroline narrowed her eyes.
 
Swiping the bandage from him, she started to wrap the wound again.

“Here, let me do that.”

“Not a chance.”
 
She smacked away his extended hand.

The frown returned to his face, before he stomped off to his horse.
 
“Stubborn woman.”

“I heard that.”

When she finished wrapping her injured hand, she carefully mounted her horse—without his assistance this time.
 
As pain seared through her hand, she realized it was a mistake.
 
Biting her tongue, she successfully suppressed a whimper.

Not waiting for him, she kicked her horse into a trot.

Infuriating.
 
No other word seemed to describe the way Miss Caroline Larson affected him.
 
Thomas mounted his horse and took off after the annoying, stubborn woman.

This morning when he woke to the unmistakable sound of the rustlers, he almost forgot he had her to think about.
 
He’d been in this sort of situation before.
 
Many times during the war he woke to find his position compromised.
 
Or the times he’d been followed as a dispatch rider.
 
He always seemed to escape the most challenging of situations.
 
But, he’d never had to do it with a woman depending on him before.