Trail of Kisses (25 page)

“
How did you get home?” Lynne
asked.

Cade blew out a breath. “It was hard. We had
to walk back without provisions, and a snow squall blew through on
the second day. By the time we did make it back, Jake and his
buddies were long gone.”

“
They were never
found?”

“
No.” Cade shook his head then
lowered it. “I’m surprised your uncle didn’t send me packing right
then. I think my father had something to do with that. I know he
didn’t trust me, though. I could have sworn he would never trust me
again, but he sent me to Missouri to get you.”

“
He must trust you then.” She
managed a weak smile. It could have been the coffee waking her up.
Understanding dawned in her eyes. “But that’s why you won’t sleep
now.”

Slowly, he nodded. “I do sleep, just not all
that much. At first I was just determined to do my duty so that
your uncle would trust me again, but,” he twisted on the barrel to
face her, reaching for one of her hands, “you mean so much more to
me than just a job, Lynne. I don’t know what I would do if you were
hurt. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

She drew in a breath and smiled. No sunrise
could ever be so radiant.

“
I don’t know what to say,” she
said. “Except… except thank you. It means so much to me.” She
hesitated, beautiful, dark lashes sweeping her cheeks before she
said, “You mean so much to me.”

His heart grew and blossomed and burst in his
chest. “I swear, Lynne. I swear I will move heaven and earth to
find whoever is trying to hurt you and to bring them to
justice.”

“
I know. You will,” she
replied.

Then, to his amazement, she set her mug of
coffee aside, took both of his hands in hers, and leaned across
from her barrel to kiss him. It was a soft, gentle kiss. It was the
kiss of a woman who had put her faith in him. No flashing fire and
burning passion could have warmed him deeper. He reached for her,
wrapping his arms around her back and drawing her off of her barrel
to sit on his lap. Then he returned her kiss with all of the joy
and longing of a man who was so close to home and had only a few
more steps to go.

He broke the kiss when Ben stirred on the
wagon behind them. That one small scramble of movement reminded him
that there were people around and reputations to
protect.

“
You’d best get ready for the
river crossing today,” he told Lynne. He couldn’t resist giving her
one last kiss before letting her go.

“
One last river to cross, and then
we’ll be on our way home.” She stole a last kiss of her own before
standing.

Home. Cade could only imagine how wonderful it
would be.

Lynne had assumed that she would be nervous
about crossing the wide, rushing river at the ferry. A part of her
still thought that she should be, but the rest of her was flying
high in the clouds. It wasn’t at all what she would have expected
only a few days after someone had tried to kill her. But Cade was
there. She had complete faith that he would protect her. The
feeling was both new and startling. When had she ever put her faith
in another person to that extent? When had she ever been so in
love?

No sooner did the warm feeling of being
protected wash over her than she found herself mounted on her
horse, standing on the bank of the river.

“
Are you sure you want to ford
it?” Cade asked from where he sat mounted on Arrow by her side.
“Ben’s taking the wagon across on the raft. You can always go with
him and let me lead Clover across.”

Ben had just guided the team of oxen aboard
the raft with the help of a team of ferrymen. He sat higher and
twisted to look back at her.

Lynne studied the big, thick raft, wondering
how it managed to stay afloat with a wagon and four oxen on it. She
looked out across the murky waters of the river. “I think I’ll take
my chances fording,” she said.

Cade must have seen her wary look at the wagon
on the raft. “I can’t say I blame you. All right, then. Are you
ready to get wet?”

Lynne took in a deep breath. At least she was
wearing one of her older dresses and her second-best pair of boots.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Clover took a little more convincing. The
Platte was meandering and swampy. Its current splashed around poor
Clover’s feet as Lynne nudged her in, but at no point did the river
threaten to sweep them away. Several other horses and riders were
pushing their way across and some had already come out on the other
side. At no point was the water above anyone’s head.

Still, Clover took one ginger step at a time.
Lynne could feel her hooves sticking in the river’s swampy bottom.
Before too long, the water reached her feet. Not even a side-saddle
was enough for her to keep her boots or the hem of her skirt dry.
She distracted herself by checking on the wagon.

The ferrymen had come up with an ingenious way
to get hundreds of wagons across the swirling waters of the Platte.
They had ropes strung from one bank to the other and a whole team
of rafts. All the wagon drivers needed to do was keep their wagons
and oxen settled as strong men took hold of the thick rope and
walked down the length of the raft holding it. Foot by foot, it
drew the laden rafts across the water to the other side. The method
was so efficient that a line of rafts waited in the river while
wagons were unloaded and moved on to make way for more.

“
I suppose we’re lucky to be
making the crossing now instead of twenty years ago, before it was
so well manned,” Lynne called across to Cade as both of their
horses stepped and splashed.

“
It does make things easier,” he
called back. “Though I remember coming out as a child, and there
were a good number of ferrymen living here even then. They make
good money.”

“
I suppose they do,” she
answered.

She needed to pay the passage for her wagon
from the purse her father had given her as soon as they made it
across. It was a wonder that the man who was trying to kill her,
who had clearly been in her wagon, among her things at some point,
hadn’t taken that purse. Then again, it wasn’t money he was
after.

It took no time at all for the horses to make
it across the river. Lynne was left soaked and smelling of river
water as she rode up on the opposite bank and gave Clover a
congratulatory pat on her neck. All she had to do then was wait for
Ben to come across with her wagon.

“
Why don’t you go and see if
there’s anything you can do to help Mr. Evans get everyone across
safe and sound,” Lynne suggested after waiting with Cade and
watching the slow progression of wagons for a few minutes. When he
looked at her as though her mind had washed downriver in the
crossing, she said, “I feel bad for all the trouble we’ve caused.
It’s the least we could do.”

Cade’s expression flashed from exasperated to
amused. “So you’re finally willing to admit that we’ve caused
trouble?”

She met his wry grin with one of her own. “It
seems a bit dishonest to deny it at this point.”

To her relief, he laughed. She hadn’t heard
him laugh in a week. It was a surprise for her to realize how much
she missed that sound or how much she needed it. She needed for
everything to settle down and for life to go on.

“
I’ll go,” he said at length, “but
I want you to stay right here in the open on that horse where I can
see you at all times.”

She pursed her lips. “I’ll stay right here
until my wagon is out of the water, but then I need to fetch money
to pay for the crossing and make sure all of our things are safe
and settled.”

Our things. She liked the way that
sounded.

Cade rubbed his stubbly chin, then settled
Arrow as he danced, eager to get his feet wet again. “I’ll tell you
what. Pete’s stretching all the wagons out into two lines, one
heading to Denver City and the rest going on to Oregon, so they’ll
be ready to go again tomorrow. I’ll have him let Ben move your
wagon to the side over here, beside the river, so that even if you
climb inside, I’ll be able to see anyone who rides up to
you.”

Lynne smiled. “It’s a deal.”

He nodded and kicked Arrow’s flanks and turned
his head to start away from the bank to where Mr. Evans was lining
up wagons. “Behave yourself,” he told her, pointing a teasing
finger at her.

“
I will,” she vowed.

As he rode off, a light giggle rose from her
throat. How had she ever thought it was amusing to tease and
torture Cade? It was so much more fun to work with him. Not that
she would stop teasing him.

She continued to wait and watch the rafts. On
the far bank of the river, she could see Callie and John Rye,
studying the river and talking. A short prick of guilt at not
spending more time with her friend was quickly replaced by a warm
smile. Callie had a story of her own playing out. She and John
stood close together, and they appeared happy. If one couple could
find such sudden, unexpected happiness with each other in such a
short time, who was to say that she couldn’t do the
same?

She only had a few moments to ponder the
question. Her wagon was next to reach the shore. Cade had told her
to stay within sight, but she wheeled Clover around and nudged her
closer to the end of the ferry crossing. Ben and the ferrymen
steered her wagon off of the raft and onto the south bank of the
Platte. Sure enough, Cade had had a word with Mr. Evans, and
instead of driving the wagon on into line with the others heading
to Denver City, the ferrymen steered it to the side, closer to the
river and apart from the rest of the wagons.

“
Thank you, Ben,” she smiled at
the grumpy young man when he finally had the wagon stopped in the
shade of a low, scrubby tree. “You’ve done your job
well.”

“
My job ain’t over yet, ma’am.” He
frowned and hopped down from the driver’s seat to unhitch the oxen
so they could feed.

“
Of course not,” Lynne laughed.
“We’ve still got miles to go, but thank you all the
same.”

He tipped his hat to her, then went back to
work with the oxen. Lynne checked to see where Cade was—back at the
ferry crossing, off his horse now and helping the ferrymen lead
anxious oxen onto the bank from newly crossed rafts—then hopped
down from Clover. Her things had made the crossing more or less
intact. A few of the smaller boxes had fallen off of the stacks
against the sides. One of the sacks of cornmeal had caught a nail
as it fell and tore open. She had fewer supplies crowding the back
of the wagon now than she’d had when they set out. It was her hope
chest that concerned her now.

She crawled to the front of the wagon where it
sat with nothing on top of it and flipped open the lid to look for
her purse. A chill went down her spine as she did. It seemed that
every time she’d opened her hope chest, she found something she
didn’t want to see. It was strange that the sight of her own
possessions could fill her with such anxiety. She moved a pile of
handkerchiefs to the side and searched for the purse. It had
slipped down between the linens and the wall of the chest. She
fished it out and took payment for the crossing.

As she tucked the purse back in its place and
moved the handkerchiefs over top of it, she found her poor, ruined
doll. It was tucked into a bedroll made of some of her mother’s
table linens. At first, the sight made her smile, but not for long.
She hadn’t tucked her doll in. Cade might have, but it didn’t seem
like something he would do.

She reached for the doll, and as she lifted
it, its head flopped to the side. Lynne gasped. The doll’s neck had
been cut clean across and its broken head was left hanging by a
thread. She pushed the doll into her makeshift bedroll and slammed
the lid of the chest, scrambling back.

Part of Lynne wanted to scream. A bigger part
was seething. She crouched at the open end of the wagon bed on her
hands and knees, breathing fast. Her would-be killer was still out
there, still taunting her. He could have put the doll in its
bedroll days ago or he could have done it only hours ago, before
the river crossing. Either way, he was sending a message. He wanted
her to be afraid. He wasn’t done with her yet.

There was only one thing for her to do. As
swiftly as she could, she climbed down from the wagon and searched
through the clearing beside the river where the wagons were
crossing for Cade. He was still helping the ferrymen bring wagons
off of rafts. With her lips pressed shut and her hands balled into
fists at her sides, Lynne charged across the matted grass toward
him.

Cade saw her coming. The smile he wore as he
met her eyes vanished in a heartbeat. He left the oxen team he’d
been leading in another man’s hands and cut around the wagon he was
helping to march toward her.

“
What is it?” he demanded. “What’s
wrong? You’re pale.”

Fear bubbled up from her stomach, making her
breath short, but Lynne refused to give in to it. “Come with me,”
she said and took Cade’s hand.

Silently, she led him back to her wagon. The
river was alive with noise, splashing and oxen lowing, people
talking and shouting as they made the crossing and organized
themselves on the other side. No one was watching as Lynne and Cade
reached their wagon apart from the others. Lynne scrambled inside
and motioned for Cade to follow her.