Jodi Thomas (45 page)
Authors: The Lone Texan
Luther whispered as he worked, “I’m the back guard tonight. No one will check on me until after first light. I figured out you released the horses in the pasture when you escaped before because that’s the way you went, but I can’t find any way out. I’ve crawled over those rocks for days.”
“North,” Drum answered. “Straight north over the rocks and into a small tunnel to a cave.”
“I’ve got a wagon out back. If we stay on the road, we’ll leave no trail until we have to leave the wagon and start climbing.”
“Good enough.” Drum looked at the women. “Everyone including the children carries water.”
They moved silently down the back stairs and out into the night. Once the stretcher was loaded, the women crowded into the wagon, and Myron took the bench with Luther.
“I’ll meet you at the rocks,” Drum said. He didn’t need to explain that he didn’t trust either man. He knew he could run straight across the pasture in half the time Luther could circle around. That gave him a few minutes to set up more lanterns in the house, the storage rooms, and the laundry. The buildings were so close together, there was a good chance that if one burned, others would catch as well.
Luther nodded and headed down the back alley toward the north.
Drum climbed to the roof and watched the house for a while to make sure no one saw the wagon leave, then he climbed down and ran toward the pasture.
The wagon was there when he arrived. He looked at Luther. “I’ll move the women in and come back for you. Meet me up there,” he pointed a hundred feet above, “after you get rid of the wagon.”
Luther agreed. “I’ll leave it in the barn with a lantern propped against the door.”
Drum led the women as Myron and one of the older boys carried the stretcher. The climb wasn’t easy, but no one complained. It took him two hours to get them into the cave and go back for Luther.
The count hadn’t moved. Luck seemed with them.
Luther was waiting when Drum returned, hidden in the rocks but watching the pasture. “I didn’t think we’d make it this far,” he said. “Until now, I figured this was suicide. I’m thinking we might have a chance.”
They hurried back to the cave. He’d taken the women deep enough so that they could light a fire. When he saw them, he froze. They weren’t asleep, as he’d thought they would be, but circled around the stretcher as if in prayer.
Myron stood when he heard Drum. “The count’s dead,” he said. “I must have killed him with too much sleeping potion.”
Drum walked closer to the body.
“No,” a woman whispered. “I killed him. I stabbed him when we were in the wagon. He had my husband killed a month ago and told everyone not to feed me but to let me starve.”
“No.” Another woman raised her chin. “I killed him. I held his mouth and nose so he couldn’t breathe just like he did my baby’s.”
“I poked a needle in his heart,” an older woman said.
Drum frowned. “How many of you killed him?”
All the women raised their hands.
“Well, I can’t take you all in. What do you think, Luther?”
The guard lifted the body and tossed it into a cavern in the floor of the cave. “He died in an accident,” Luther said matter-of-factly.
Drum didn’t have time or want to argue. “All right. We have to get to the other end of the cave before we stop for the night. Then we’ll rest and move at dusk again.”
Everyone stood.
As they moved silently through the cave, Drum planned what he would do once they got past the slope. He’d circle back and pick up Satan and disappear. Now, that wasn’t going to be easy.
They slept the day away. Drum walked back far enough to see the fires. It looked like the lanterns had done their job. Half the settlement seemed ablaze.
That night, with only the moon for light, he showed the women how to move down the slope. Several tumbled and rolled, but not one complained. Drum headed them east toward Galveston with Luther in the lead, while he backtracked to get Satan. When he caught up with them, he was surprised at the progress they’d made.
Drum scouted ahead, moving them by day when there was cover and by night when they were in open country. He also rode away from them to hunt game and managed to have a deer or rabbits skinned and waiting by the time they made camp.
Luther and he took turns at guard, but Drum rarely slept. The small band was following the same path he and Sage had traveled, and that knowledge made him ache each night for her. During the days, he did his job, but he felt something he’d never felt deep in his gut. This was the last time, the last mission. When he made it back to Sage, he’d never leave again.
By the time they reached Galveston, all were too exhausted to even talk. They made quite a sight walking into town, dirty and thin. Drum turned them over to the captain’s care and checked into the same hotel room he’d shared with Sage in what seemed like a lifetime ago.
He closed his eyes, remembering how they’d both slept that night and how she’d been afraid to walk through the hotel lobbies so late. He’d kissed her before dawn that night. Really kissed her for the first time.
Finally, he slept, lost in dreams of his wife.
At daybreak, he cleaned up and went to have a talk with the captain.
By noon the next day, he headed home, no longer wearing the Ranger badge on his shirt.
CHAPTER 48
S
AGE HAD WORKED ALL DAY PATCHING UP THREE MEN who’d been hurt while roofing the new schoolhouse. One had a broken arm, another a fractured bone in his leg, and the third had suffered a puncture wound in his side that was still bleeding. She kept all three in the clinic for the night.
AGE HAD WORKED ALL DAY PATCHING UP THREE MEN who’d been hurt while roofing the new schoolhouse. One had a broken arm, another a fractured bone in his leg, and the third had suffered a puncture wound in his side that was still bleeding. She kept all three in the clinic for the night.
Bonnie offered to stay, but Sage said she’d take the next few hours. Bradford was already waiting for his wife in the buggy. He’d been helping out at the clinic when he wasn’t building a house on a piece of land a mile from town. He said he didn’t plan to ranch or farm, but he wanted to make harnesses and saw a living in the work. When Sage asked why he needed to be a mile from town to do that, Bradford simply replied that he didn’t like people all that much.
Sage smiled as she watched them leave for a picnic out on their land. The cowboy might not like folks much, but he was crazy about Bonnie. It had been almost two months since Drum left, and Bonnie was starting to show. The cowboy was so protective of his wife, Sage wouldn’t have been surprised if he started carrying her to the buggy.
Sage touched her own middle, wishing she’d gotten pregnant that night with Drum. At least then she’d have a part of him. Now, she had nothing. No news. She didn’t even know if he was alive or dead.
“Evening,” Daniel Torry said as he came around the corner of the house.
“Evening.” Sage smiled. Daniel stopped by two or three times a day just to check on her. He also rode along with the boys to school and back when they stayed with her in town.
“It’s going to be a nice night,” he said, smiling.
Sage almost laughed at his effort at conversation. “Another month, and we’ll see spring.”
He swung over the railing and took his chair on the porch. “I thought I’d stay here and watch over the clinic for you until Miss Bonnie gets back.”
“That’s nice, but I’m not going anywhere.”
He grinned wider. “I thought you might want to take my horse and ride in to see the new sheriff in town.”
“Not interested.”
“He’s due to be sworn in before dark.”
“Still not interested.” In this size of town she’d meet him soon enough.
Daniel kept smiling. “Not even if he sent you an invitation?”
“He did?”
“Well, kind of. He told me to go tell his woman he wanted her next to him.”
Sage was off the porch and running to Daniel’s horse before he finished. She was at full gallop, only half aware that Daniel was laughing.
Several men stepped aside as she rode to the newly constructed sheriff’s office.
A lean man dressed in black turned in time to catch her as she jumped from the horse.
“You’re home!” She hugged him, not caring that half the town was watching.
He swung her around. “I missed you, honey.”
He kissed her once, then straightened. “Let’s get this over with so we can go somewhere a little less public.” He glanced toward the hotel.
“Agreed,” she whispered and took his arm.
As they stepped up to the marshal, Drum held her close. She listened as he took the oath and accepted a sheriff’s star. Then everyone was congratulating him and hugging her.
Through it all, she felt his hand on her, holding her, touching her.
When things had settled, he whispered, “I got us the same room at the hotel. Dinner will be waiting.” He laughed against her ear. “I had to pay double for him to let us in, so try not to be so much trouble.”
They crossed the street and went up to their room.
She didn’t want to argue or even talk, but she had to ask, “Why didn’t you come to me first?”
He pulled off his coat and guns. “I knew if I did, it’d be days before I took the oath, and I wanted you to know that I’m staying put right here in Anderson’s Glen. I’m never planning on leaving you again.”
“But you’re the best, Drum. I’d understand. I could survive.”
He pulled her to him. “I don’t want you to just survive. I want you safe and happy. Besides, I plan on working hard to be the best at something else.”
“Really, what?” She laughed as he undressed her.
“At loving you,” he whispered, “just the way you like to be loved.”
Read on for a special excerpt from
Jodi Thomas’s next novel of romantic fiction—the
first of a trilogy set in Harmony, Texas.
On sale in June 2010…
PROLOGUEJodi Thomas’s next novel of romantic fiction—the
first of a trilogy set in Harmony, Texas.
On sale in June 2010…
Winter 2006
A
SLIVER OF NEW MOON ROSE OVER THE FARMHOUSE Stella and Bob McNabb leased five miles outside Harmony, Texas. Stella sat up in bed as if she’d heard a cannon.
SLIVER OF NEW MOON ROSE OVER THE FARMHOUSE Stella and Bob McNabb leased five miles outside Harmony, Texas. Stella sat up in bed as if she’d heard a cannon.
Bob tugged off his headphones, flipped on the reading light and waited. He hadn’t been asleep, but Stella always insisted they go to bed together, so most nights he plugged into a ball game on the radio and listened while she wiggled herself to sleep.
“I’ve had a vision,” she announced. “A terrible vision, all black smoke and fire.”
In the forty years they’d been married, she’d had a hundred visions, and as far as he knew none of them came true. “Now, Stella, just because you play the fortune-teller at the 4-H fair once a year doesn’t make you psychic. The vision’s probably tied to the three enchiladas you had for supper.”
She glared at him and he couldn’t help but think she was one woman who definitely looked better with makeup on. Lots of makeup.
“But I saw it, Bob. Some strange kind of storm’s coming. A big one. The kind of storm that shatters lives.”
He patted her hand. “Don’t you worry about a storm. We could use the rain.”
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