Liberty Belle (12 page)

“They need to be protected. Would you take Mark on the stage? I’ll try and see if I can’t get Miss Longstreet to watch him. I’ve got my own horse and could meet with them later.”

“That’d be fine by me. No charge either.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to the women in the morning.”

Footsteps marked the men leaving. Quiet sniffling drifted from Mark’s bed. The poor child must have heard his father discuss leaving him with strangers. Libby wanted to give that Wade Calder “a hard thumping” as her father was known to say. What kind of man would consider leaving his son with strangers?

All warm feelings for him disappeared. Tomorrow morning, she’d let him know he had a responsibility. She wasn’t going to let him forget his own son.

###

Wade stretched and welcomed the morning sunlight drifting into the cabin. He couldn’t remember when the men stopped playing cards, but the loud snores told him they were making up for lost time. The ladies still slept, their light breathing a pleasant sound compared to the growly noise erupting from the men.

He glanced at the cot where Mark remained snuggled in peaceful slumber. Wade sighed. He didn’t relish the idea of telling the boy to ride the stage without him. But he didn’t have the money for the fare. A niggling thought in the back of his mind prodded him to ask the women to find the boy a home, take him off his hands.

Mark wasn’t his son. He might be a good boy, but Wade wasn’t ready for a family. He had some living to do. As the oldest son, he’d already spent what felt a lifetime working for his family and then becoming sheriff at such an early age. No, he was through being responsible for others. He wanted freedom.

The image of Libby running from that gambler flashed in Wade’s mind. He groaned. She was the one person he might want to be responsible for. Just thinking of her caused his heart to race. Her beauty captivated him. But then, she was a lady. She’d have never spoken a word to him if she hadn’t needed his protection. She probably had some fancy-pants banker waiting for her in Denver.

No, his mind was settled. He’d ride on. Away from Mark. Away from Libby. Away from responsibilities that weren’t of his doing.

###

Libby opened her eyes. Morning. Another day on the hard coach seat, rocking and bouncing, awaited her. But she would be another day closer to her goal. Tingles of excitement raced through her. She groaned at the thought of the men in the room. Getting away from them could not come too soon.

Then she remembered Wade’s words last night about leaving his son. Fiery anger surged through her as she considered how she was going to let him know just what kind of man she thought him to be.

Outside loud shouts startled her into pulling the moldy blanket to her face.

Flora jumped out of her bed, hair askew and fumbling for her reticule. “Oh dear. What’s wrong?”

Libby mumbled under her covers. “Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the floor.”

Her aunt grinned. “Oh. I guess we were the privileged ones, weren’t we?”

The door slammed and they both jumped.

“Where’s Grogan?” Wade’s voice split the air.

After slipping on her shoes, Libby peeked around the blanket. Wade stood in the center of the room, his face red and the veins in his neck pulsing.

Dusty yawned and rubbed a hand through his always mussed hair. “He was here last night. Slept in the coach. Said he wanted his privacy.”

“Grogan and my horse are gone.” Wade dusted his hat against his leg and winced.

She hadn’t noticed the bandage around his leg yesterday. Libby wondered what happened to him. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that she didn’t care.

Wade strode past her.

Mark stumbled from his cot and ran to him. “I’m sorry you lost Banjo again.”

The man turned to the boy. “Did you pray about Bamjo last night?”

The boy looked down and nodded.

“Figures. That just settles it. Dusty, any way I can work off my fare to Denver?”

The driver shook his head. “Well, I think it’d be all right if I just let you have Grogan’s portion. He ain’t gonna use it.”

“Thanks.” Wade patted Mark on the shoulder and walked outside.

Libby hurt for the pained look on the boy’s face. What did Wade have against praying? Another reason to forget about the man.

She rushed toward Mark and hugged him. “Have you ever ridden on a stagecoach?”

With sorrow in his eyes, he shook his head.

Flora joined them and smiled. “You’ll have fun. Mr. Samuels likes to tell stories. Maybe if you ask, he’ll tell you some.”

Mark gazed at Libby. “Do we get to eat first?”

“Of course. I think I smell the cook burning eggs right now.” Libby grinned. Seems a man’s idea of cooking in the west was to throw it in the fire. Of course, this could be of value if you really didn’t want to know what you were eating. If her situation worsened, she could always secure a job at a cafe. How hard could it be to cook?

###

Wade needed to get outside. He didn’t want the boy or Libby to see him so angry. That and the walls were closing in. The thought of riding inside the stage didn’t help either. He loved the outdoors. Had considered becoming a U.S. Marshall, but after straying over the line, he’d given up on that idea.

He must have been right about Grogan though. The man had stolen Banjo. Wade walked to the corral and bent to see the tracks. He followed them to the stage road far enough to see that Grogan had ridden west. The man could go to Denver City or farther north.

A dove fluttered to the ground, breaking his thoughts. Wade ran a hand over his chin. It’d been a few days between shaves. If he was going to ride with the women, he’d better clean up. At least Grogan had left the saddlebags.

After washing, Wade returned to the cabin. The aroma of coffee and bacon drifted on the morning breeze and woke his stomach. He grinned when he saw Mark wolfing down a plate of eggs and bacon.

Wade sat beside him. “Whoa. I think they’ll let us have time to eat.”

Relief sparkled in the boy’s eyes.

Libby sat beside Mark. She smiled at the kid but avoided even looking at him. Flora practically growled at him. At least, the boy seemed happy to see him.

A rap on the table announced Harley’s arrival. “What a happy group. I dare say, Grogan won’t be missed. And Wade here—sorry—Libby’s brother, looks like he’ll be a sight more pleasant. And then we have little Mark.” The gambler smiled at the boy and mussed his hair.

Libby knocked Harley’s hand from Mark. “Keep away from the child. He doesn’t need you to influence him to a life of debauchery.”

“Just being friendly. Better eat. Horses are harnessed and Dusty is ready to go.” Harley tipped his hat and strode out the door.

“Oh. That man is loathsome. I do hope you will ride with us in the coach, Mr. Calder.” Flora eyed him over her spectacles, fear and expectation reflected in her eyes.

“I’ll see that Harley doesn’t bother either of you.” Wade hoped that remark would thaw the coldness coming from Libby.

It didn’t.

###

Libby darted out of the shack. The quicker she got away from Wade the better. He didn’t act like a good father. Hardly taking care of the boy and then angry at him for praying. As soon as they were in Denver City, she’d disown him as her brother.

Huffing, Flora caught up to her. “Libby. What is the matter? Did Wade say something untoward?”

“I don’t like him. Not the way he treats his son. I am not sure if he is any better than Harley.” Libby stepped toward the coach only to be met by the gambler.

“May I help you dear ladies?” His slick smile failed to dim the rove of his eyes.

Gathering her skirt, Libby glared at the man. “I can get in myself. Please step aside.”

Harley shrugged and backed away from the door.

Holding her skirt, Libby put one foot on the step and a hand on the door. But when she brought her other foot forward, it landed on her skirt. She fell head first onto the floor of the coach.

Samuels, already seated inside, rose and grabbed her by the elbow. “I’ll help. My mother always had trouble getting into these things.”

The indignity.
After being hauled up like a sack of flour and compared to an old lady, Libby managed to claim her seat by the window. She straightened her skirt and nodded to Samuels. “Thank you.”

Flora slapped Harley and scrambled in. “Oh dear. Are you all right?”

“Fine.” Immediately Libby wanted to retract her curt tone. She’d not meant to snap at Flora. But the thought of the floundering spectacle she’d made of herself caused her to cringe. And now to have to ride with that gambler
and
Wade.

Harley started to enter when Wade pulled him back.

“You can go to the far side. Mark’s going to sit by the ladies. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir.” Mark jumped into the coach and settled between them.

Libby welcomed the diversion. “Well, young man. I must say I am glad to have you beside me. Such pleasant company for our trip. Don’t you agree, Flora?”

“Yes, I do.”

Wade took the seat facing Libby and stared at her with an amused look on his face.

How dare he think he could laugh at her misfortune? Narrowing her eyes, she determined to stare him down.

After a few moments, he frowned and looked away.

She’d won. Not like she cared about the man anyway. Her victory hollow, she stared out the window. The empty landscape mirrored her feelings. How could a man who treated his son so badly set off sparks in her heart?

Harley growled, and her attention returned to the inside of the coach in time to see the gambler shove Samuels’ legs.

“This is going to be one long ride.” The gambler glared at Wade. “I think I’d rather have Grogan back.”

Wade took off his hat and slung it over his knee. “Well that makes two of us. I wasn’t planning on riding in this cramped box.”

Libby took hold of Mark’s hand. “How dare you talk that way in front of your son? I can’t believe you are so insensitive.”

Mark shifted beside her and stared at Wade.

“My son? He’s not my son. I found him on the prairie—”

Harley slapped his cards together. “I knew he wasn’t your brother. He definitely doesn’t look at you like a brother should.”

“This does not concern you, Mr. Mason. Kindly keep your opinions to yourself.” Libby turned. “What do you mean you found him?”

Mark sighed. “Indians killed my pa. Mr. Wade took care of me.” The boy grinned at him. “We’re partners.”

Libby slumped her shoulders. How could she have been so wrong? She put a hand to her lips. His gaze met hers, and her stomach came alive with butterflies. “I’m sorry. I heard you talking to Dusty last  night—”

“You could have asked. I wasn’t going to leave Mark. Like he said, we’re partners.” He continued to stare at her. His frown retreated, replaced with a puzzled grin, and questions in his eyes.

She put a hand to her chest. The sparks were back
.

###

Wade rubbed the back of his head. His neck ached, probably a result of lying. He really wasn’t going to leave Mark, not for long anyway. He’d have made his way to Denver, eventually. So that’s why she’d been so mad at him. He’d wondered what he had done to anger her.

Her icy stare was gone. Now those green eyes, moist and soft, gazed at him with a tenderness that shook him. Wade felt his own anger melt. Felt a stirring in his heart. Felt a longing to protect the woman before him.

The stage bounced over rough ground.

The jolt broke the spell. Wade turned toward the window. Wide open land, tall grass waving in the breeze, freedom. Once he’d taken his revenge on Taylor, he’d planned to keep riding west. No responsibilities. No cares.

Should freedom feel so empty?

After miles of rumbling on the dusty road, Wade tried not to think of the opposing thoughts. But like a raging war, they were not to be silenced.

Samuels snored loud enough to make the coach inhabitants jump. Harley grunted and kicked the man. “Samuels, wake up.”

The big man swiped his beefy hands over his face, straightened, and yawned. “Sorry. Bet I was snoring.” He grinned. “Or maybe it was that young fella between those two beautiful ladies.”

“Oh my. Mr. Samuels.” Flora burned red. “Do tell us one of your stories. One that a boy could hear.”

Wade pressed his lips to hold back a grin. Flora appeared as excited as the boy.

Libby’s foot struck Wade’s leg.

He looked at her.

Her eyes widened, and she tucked her leg under her seat.

“If you want to stretch your legs, go ahead.”

“I, uh, maybe at the next stop.” Her cheeks matched Flora’s.

Again, Wade suppressed the notion to gather her in his arms. Even with her dark curls gone askance, her clothes dusty, and her lips pursed, the woman made him ache.

“You are making me blush.” She whispered to him.

“That so?”

She straightened her skirt, brushed dust from her sleeves, and gazed out the window, clearly an attempt to avoid him.

“Well,
sister
, what are your plans in Denver City?”

She darted a glance at him. “Auraria. I am going to Auraria to teach school.”

He hadn’t counted on that. She really had somewhere to go and something to do. But no rich banker to meet? Suddenly, the stage ride didn’t seem like such a waste.

Samuels started in on a story. Flora and Mark turned toward him and listened. Libby kept her focus out the window.

“You’ve taught before? School, I mean.” He needed to find out if she was spoken for.

She wiped a curl from her cheek. “No, but I had instruction. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

He risked the big question. “You know someone in Auraria?”

Swallowing, she folded her hands. “Yes.”

Wade rested back against the quilted pad on the wooden seatback. She wasn’t telling the truth. He’d been a good lawman. One reason being he could read people. See what they were telling him with their eyes and the way they moved. Libby didn’t know anyone. He’d stake his badge on that.

If he still had it
.