WM02 - Texas Princess (34 page)

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Authors: Jodi Thomas

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Love Stories, #Historical, #Ranchers, #Texas, #Forced Marriage, #Westerns, #Frontier and Pioneer Life, #Western Stories, #Ranch Life

BOOK: WM02 - Texas Princess
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Liberty forced down a swal ow of water and tried to act like she wasn’t listening.

Hawk mumbled something to Warren. Liberty guessed the young ofcer might need advice from the more seasoned sergeant.

Warren shrugged, then seemed to agree.

The lieutenant looked back to Frazier. “Pick two men and ride to the bridge. Get as close as you can to the ranch and wait for him to come out. He’l have to leave the place sometime. When he does, do what you have to do.”

“But how wil I know which one of those McMurrays is Tobin?” The stout soldier didn’t look happy at having to stay behind.

Warren moved closer to him. “The one who was a ranger walks with a limp and looks like he might be part Indian. I saw him once with the senator. When I saw Tobin McMurray last, he was wearing knee-high moccasins. A fel a in town said he has a scar that runs right over his heart, so he should be easy to identify.”

The soldier stil didn’t look happy. “I can’t exactly ask every man riding by to open his shirt. What if I shoot the wrong one?”

Hawk looked bored with the conversation. “Set up camp where you can see that damn bridge that keeps al away and do your best.”

Liberty noticed Warren didn’t look comfortable with Hawk’s order, but he didn’t say anything. She’d listened to soldiers talk al her life and had long ago given up reacting to anything she heard, but not this time. This time she knew the men they talked so casual y about kil ing. This time she knew they’d done nothing wrong.

Fighting exhaustion, Liberty forced her back to remain straight. She wanted to ask if they could rest a few hours before leaving, but she knew it would be safest for both the soldiers and the McMurrays, if they were as far away from the ranch as possible. If the McMurrays knew where she was, they might try to save her even if she had told them not to. They didn’t seem a clan who fol owed orders wel . If they 267

came, men would be kil ed. Her best choice was to put miles between the ranch and the soldiers until she found someone in authority who would believe her.

“I’m ready to leave,” she said to Warren. “Can we go now?”

Warren nodded. “I’l saddle your horse, miss.”

While she waited she saw the stout soldier pick out two men to remain behind with him. She guessed that he’d chosen the two best marksmen. She also knew that the

rst man who rode out of Whispering Mountain would have three bul ets in him by the time he cleared the bridge.

He’d be covered in blood. Tobin’s nightmare would come true.

Liberty turned, walked to the nearest tree, and vomited. With the image of Tobin lying on the ground in her mind, she threw up until there was nothing left.

His dream was about to come true and she’d be the cause.

Warren stood behind her ready to help. She tried once more, desperate to have him believe her. “I wasn’t kidnapped, Sergeant. I don’t need saving.”

He showed no hint of believing her.

“I was riding into town to convince...” Liberty stopped, realizing how crazy she sounded even to herself. No sane woman would have been standing in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night with no horse.

Warren handed her his handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it.

“Thank you, Sergeant.”

“You are welcome, miss,” he answered formal y.

Ten minutes later when they rode away, Liberty forced her mind to think of nothing but the ride. She studied everything around her, l ing her brain with facts that didn’t matter, counting trees, rocks, birds, listening to every word the men said, anything to keep from thinking about the three men waiting just off McMurray land. Three men planning to kil Tobin.

When they stopped for lunch, she forced down a few bites, not because she was hungry but because she knew she had to be strong for the battle to come. Warren told her the fort was ve days away. If Tobin got her note and didn’t fol ow, maybe she’d have a few days to convince one of these men that she hadn’t been kidnapped.

“Warren,” she whispered as she handed him back the tin plate. “Do you think me mad?”

“I’m not paid to think,” he answered.

“Please answer me.”

“Yes,” he whispered. “But I’l watch over you every minute. Nothing or no one is going to bother you again. You’l be safe until we get to the fort and then you’l be with Buchanan.”

Liberty closed her eyes and heard what he hadn’t said. He’d be making sure she didn’t escape.

“Sergeant Warren?”

“Yes, miss.”

“You plan to protect me even from myself, don’t you?”

“Yes, miss.”

Liberty wanted to ask who would protect her from Samuel, but she didn’t. The sergeant wouldn’t understand. She’d never wanted Tobin so much as right now.

Thinking of Tobin, her senses wished him near so strongly she could almost feel him close. His riding instructions drifted through her mind as she rode. As the hours passed, she relived every moment they’d spent together and the longing for him became an ache within her.

She studied each one of the soldiers. A few were young. They might be convinced, but they didn’t look like they’d disobey orders. Even if she talked one of them into taking her back to Whispering Mountain, there was a good chance she’d never be able to convince the shooters at the bridge to turn away.

By the second day, she reasoned that she had one chance and that chance would be Sergeant Warren. He seemed the most reasonable and the other men respected him far more than they did Hawk.

Warren worried about her, making sure she had a blanket and a bit of privacy when she needed it. He even talked to her

269

from time to time about his wife in Tennessee and his daughter named Natalie.

Slowly, so no one would notice, she began to make friends with Warren. She thanked him for helping her up and for taking care of her horse. She asked him innocent questions about the land and how much farther it was to the fort. Liberty even asked about his child and laughed when he told a story about her having a skunk for a pet.

By the third day, they were talking easily and no one, including Lieutenant Hawk, seemed to be paying much attention. Liberty wanted to scream each morning for she knew they were moving farther and farther away from the ranch, but if she didn’t cooperate ful y Hawk would suspect something.

The lieutenant tried to accommodate her needs by starting later in the morning and slowing the pace when she looked tired. If he thought she was plotting something, the ride could become far more grueling.

Hawk seemed a nervous man, always pacing and dgeting. Warren whispered once that the lieutenant had to keep moving or he’d worry a hole in the ground.

The good news was Hawk had little interest in speaking to her except when necessary.

He seemed far more concerned with the route and the safety of his men. He even took his turn scouting ahead. Liberty decided that would be the time she could approach Warren and tel him the truth. The worse he’d probably do was not believe her. The best might be that he’d agree to take her back.

Liberty tried to bide her time and calm her nerves by tel ing herself that the McMurrays only left their ranch when they had to. Sage said she made the trip to town once a month. If she was the one who usual y made the trip, surely none of the shooters would mistake her for a man. Liberty also knew that if the men rode in for mail, they crossed the back way through the hil s. With any luck the soldiers would get tired of waiting long before a McMurray man crossed the bridge.

Another fear haunted her thoughts. If she convinced Warren to take her back, the others might consider him a traitor, or worse, think that he was in league with Tobin.

She didn’t like to think that she could be putting a little girl’s father in danger.

When Sergeant Warren talked of his Natalie, his gray eyes didn’t look so sad. He may have been in the army more than half his life, but his heart now stayed back in Tennessee with his wife and child. Liberty needed his help, but she understood why he could not risk his future even if he had believed her.

At night, she tried to think of a plan, but most of the time she found herself wishing Tobin were near. He was so thick in her thoughts she could almost feel him holding her. But she wouldn’t real y want him here: he’d be in danger.

On the evening of the fourth day, Lieutenant Hawk decided to take two men and ride ahead to inform Captain Buchanan that his bride-to-be was safe and arriving before noon on the next day. Liberty knew this would be her last night on the trail and maybe her only chance.

The men seemed content to sit around the re and talk of how they planned to spend their bonuses now that the mission was almost complete. By lunch tomorrow, they would be eating in the mess hal .

Liberty moved away from the others and waited, knowing that Warren would bring her a plate for dinner. She hadn’t waited long when he showed up.

“Miss,” he said politely. “Sorry the meal’s so poorly tonight.”

She took the food, thanking him, then asked, “Sergeant, what if this were al a mistake and I’m not crazy? What if I wasn’t kidnapped from my father’s house? What if I ran from Captain Buchanan for my own reasons and Tobin Mc-Murray’s only crime was helping me? What would you do?”

Warren stared at the toe of his boot for a while. When he looked up his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve less than a year of nishing my tour. My Sal y and I plan to farm when I get out.” He looked at her directly, his eyes ful of sadness as he said, “I wouldn’t do anything, miss.”

“But innocent men may be kil ed,” she tried again.

“Innocent men get kil ed al the time. I’d feel sorry for that, but if I disobeyed orders and got kicked out now, I’d have nothing.”

“So you wouldn’t risk doing the right thing?”

He shook his head. “What’s right is fol owing orders for a soldier, nothing more.”

She understood. He’d answered her question. Without saying another word, she ate the half-cooked beans with hunks of tough jerky chopped in. The food was bad. The water tasted alkaline.

Liberty threw up her meal with Warren standing a few feet behind her. When she turned to him, she tried one more time to reason with him. “Would you let me go? I can’t face Buchanan tomorrow. I have to get back to Whispering Mountain.”

It had grown too dark to see his face, but his word reached her. “No,” he said. “You’d be in a great deal of danger out here alone. It wouldn’t be safe. No matter what you face at the fort, it can’t be as dangerous as you being out here alone.”

Liberty wiped her mouth on a bandanna he’d given her two days ago. “It isn’t safe where I’m going either.”

She expected him to argue, but he remained silent.

chapter 27

Y

Just after dawn on their fth morning out,

Liberty refused breakfast and asked if she could have some privacy to wash before they rode into the fort.

Warren looked reluctant but agreed.

She found a spot by a stream where trees sheltered her on both sides to the waters’

edge. The morning was damp with rain. Fog seemed to close in around her little bank by the stream like a thin curtain. She picked up her smal carpetbag as she heard Warren post men to the right and left of her location.

Warren walked her to the clearing and asked for her boots. He said he’d have a man polish them for her, but Liberty guessed he thought she’d be less likely to bolt with no horse or boots.

She smiled and handed them to him. “Thank you, Sergeant, you are very kind.”

He seemed embarrassed and walked away. He was stil polite, but the friendliness between them was gone. She found little comfort that he questioned his duty but stil planned to do it.

Liberty stripped down to her undergarments and slowly began to wash one part of her body at a time. She had to prepare her mind for the next battle. If there was a commander at the fort, she’d demand to see him. Or maybe she’d act glad to see Samuel, then faint and claim she had to rest before the wedding. But somehow, even if she had to shout no during her vows, she would stop the wedding.

The morning air felt crisp against her damp skin, the water almost ice, but she stil took her time, needing a few minutes to plan. Pul ing one of the two towels Mrs. Dickerson had shoved into the carpetbag, Liberty careful y made sure the knitting needle didn’t poke out of the bag. The old woman had probably packed it as a weapon, but Liberty saw little use of a knitting needle against armed guards.

She heard a branch splashing at the water just as she pul ed on her blouse. “One minute, Sergeant. I’m not quite dressed.”

Something moved behind her and a low voice whispered, “That’s the way I like you best.”

Liberty swung around and col ided with Tobin. Before she could scream, his arm circled her waist and his hand covered her mouth. For a moment he just held her tightly against him. Then his mouth replaced his hand and he was kissing her wildly.

Liberty dug her hands into his hair as he lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him back, starved for the taste of him.

He pul ed away suddenly. “I’m furious at you.”

She saw the re in his eyes, but it was not the re of anger. Kissing his throat, she felt his hands move over her hips greedily. “I can tel ,” she whispered as she worked her way to his mouth. “You’re real y angry at me.”

He kissed her again, hard and fast, then circled her waist and pul ed her off his body.

“We can’t do this, Libby,” he said. “We need to talk.”

Liberty knew he was right, but the attraction she felt for him every time they were close was back ten times stronger than it had been before. She wanted to beg him to make love to her right here, right now.

Tobin’s blue gaze looked at her as if he would do just that, but he forced his mouth into a frown. “Why’d you leave?” He may have stood her on her feet a few inches away, but he couldn’t seem to stop his hands from caressing her.

“How did you nd me?” She took deep breaths to calm down and saw him watching her breasts rise and fal . “There are men planning to kil you.”

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