A Worthy Pursuit (19 page)

She shrugged. “After teaching for a decade, I suppose I’ve developed a few instincts. In truth, though, I simply don’t want them to be afraid. They are aware of the possible danger and know to be cautious of strangers. That’s enough for now.”

“It’s enough for you, too, Charlotte.” Stone stepped closer, compelled to do what he could to ease
her
fears. “Franklin didn’t see me in town. I made certain of it. And I laid a false trail then doubled back to ensure no one followed me. Doc’s the only one who knows where I’m staying, and he won’t talk.” He laid a hand on her arm, his thumb stroking back and forth along her sleeve in an effort to provide comfort. “Franklin will talk up folks in town tonight, see what he can learn, then head out here to investigate tomorrow at the earliest. We have the jump on him. He won’t find us.”

At least Stone prayed he wouldn’t. A fella could never be one hundred percent sure about anything. But that was his problem to worry about. Not Charlotte’s.

Dobson circled around into Stone’s line of sight, obliterating the illusion of privacy. “I suppose you’ll be wantin’ your guns back.”

Stone released Charlotte’s arm and turned to face the ornery caretaker who was now his ally. “They might prove useful.”

“I’ll fetch the trunk.” Dobson groaned just loud enough to ensure the sound would be heard and appreciated then lumbered toward the door.

“Thank you, Dobson,” Charlotte said. “If you’ll bring it to the kitchen, I can fill it with foodstuffs after Mr. Hammond empties it.”

The wizened little man nodded then glanced back to catch Stone’s eye. “Don’t prove me a fool for trustin’ you, Hammond.” He glared the challenge, but Stone heard the real message.
Take care of my family. They’re all I’ve got.

Shoot. The gnome was starting to grow on him.

“I won’t,” Stone vowed.

Dobson held his gaze for a long moment then gave a brisk nod and left through the back door.

Charlotte stared after him. “It feels disloyal to leave him behind.”

Stone found her hand and gave it a squeeze. “We need him here playing the role of the cantankerous caretaker if Franklin comes by. You know that.”

She sighed but didn’t let go of his hand. “I know. I just worry about him.” She pivoted to face Stone then, her blue-green eyes locking with his. “What if Franklin doesn’t believe the charade? What if he resorts to brutality to try to get answers? I couldn’t bear it if Dobson were harmed because of me.”

Her grip on Stone’s hand tightened, and moisture glistened in her eyes. With a tug of his arm, Stone pulled her against his chest and held her there. “Don’t worry, darlin’. Dobson’s a tough old buzzard. Smart. Sneaky, too. He got the jump on me, remember? He’ll manage just fine.”

“I pray you’re right.” She released his hand and stepped away from his embrace. He had to fight the urge to draw her back in. Keeping her eyes averted from his, she moved toward the counter and started gathering up the slices of bread laying across its surface and wrapping them in a towel. “How long will it take to reach your friend’s ranch? I need to know how much food to pack.”

Stone forced his feet to remain where they were, giving her the space she seemed to want. “It’s not too far by road, but
we’ll need to skirt around the towns as much as possible. We can’t afford to be seen together. In fact, I think I’ll leave the wagon to you if you feel comfortable driving, and take Goliath cross-country. I’ll keep watch on you from a distance, of course, and be close enough to lend aid should the need arise, but if I can take cover among the trees most of the way, that would prevent any passersby from putting us together should they be questioned. I can also scout ahead for campsites and have things set up when you and the kids arrive.”

“So two nights? Three?” Charlotte knotted the bread towel and looked up, her brows arched in question.

Scenarios and alternatives ran through his head now that he’d started the ball rolling. As he discarded some and reworked others, it took him a minute to realize he’d never answered her question.

“Two,” he pronounced. “If we split up, we can take a more direct route. But getting such a late start today will set us back some. On second thought, better plan for three nights, just to be safe. Never know when a horse will throw a shoe or an axle will break. You are comfortable driving the wagon on your own, right?”

She smirked at him, the rare show of playfulness drawing his mind away from his plans to ponder something much more pleasant. “I think I can manage. An unmarried woman doesn’t get to my advanced age without learning a thing or two about self-reliance. If I had to wait on a man to transport me every time I wanted to go to town, I’d fritter half my life away.”

“Your age doesn’t seem all that advanced to me.” Stone rounded the counter and closed the distance between them, unable to leave her self-deprecating statement unchallenged. He ran his gaze slowly over her figure. “Nope. All I see is a woman in her prime.” He stepped closer and lassoed her waist with
his arm. “Strong.” He slowly inched his palm from her waist to the small of her back. “Independent.” He climbed higher, to the dip between her shoulder blades. “Loyal and brave.” He pressed her closer, until softness brushed his chest and her head was forced back to maintain his gaze. “And so dad-gum beautiful it puts thoughts in a man’s head.”

He lowered his face toward hers, intent on showing her just where some of those thoughts lay, but a loud scraping from outside stopped him.

“Hammond! Give me a hand with this trunk, would ya?”

Stone swallowed a groan and stepped away from Charlotte, trying to ignore how pretty she looked with that fiery blush lighting up her cheeks. Knowing he’d put it there.

The noise outside escalated to loud banging. Was the man dragging a railcar up the steps?

“You comin’, Hammond?”

With a growl, Stone stomped across the kitchen. He’d give Dobson a hand, all right. With all the knuckles included.

The first two legs of the journey passed without incident. Unless one counted skirmishes over who got to sleep next to Miss Lottie in the wagon at night, or Stephen threatening to stuff his dirty sock in Lily’s mouth if she didn’t quit jabbering about Dead-Eye Dan. More than once, Charlotte had found herself envying Stone his solitary ride away from the wagon, though the dark circles shadowing his eyes this morning proved his exhaustion.

The man had barely slept during the past two nights, standing guard over her and the children the way he did. She’d felt so safe, knowing he was watching out for them, yet she wished for his sake that it hadn’t been necessary. Fatigue could slow
a man’s reflexes, impair his judgment. He’d need to be at his best if Franklin caught up to them. For the children’s protection, of course.

Charlotte bit the inside of her lip. That was a lie. Stone was more than a shield or a line of defense. He was a man whose well-being mattered to her, for reasons she dared not examine too closely.

He’d left the wagon before full light, as was his custom, secreting himself and Goliath in the surrounding countryside, deep enough that not even Charlotte could spot them. And she knew where to look. Which she did, far too often.

She couldn’t seem to keep her attention fixed on her driving. It constantly wandered back to Stone. And what had transpired, or nearly transpired, in the kitchen the day they’d left. He’d wanted to kiss her. And she’d been about to let him. No. She’d been about to be a fully engaged participant. And oh, how she hated that Dobson had interfered. That too-innocent quirk of his lips as he’d strolled into the kitchen holding one end of the trunk while Stone carried the other with a single hand, showing how superfluous a second man was for the task—yes, Dobson had known exactly what he’d been interrupting. The little meddler.

Charlotte slumped a bit on the wagon bench as she readjusted her hold on the reins. She couldn’t be angry with Dobson. He was only being protective. He couldn’t know how much she’d longed to press her lips to Stone’s. What if that had been her only chance to learn what a true kiss felt like?

She sighed as she adjusted the reins in her fingers to navigate a sharp turn in the road. Stone had kept his distance since then, never even touching her that she could recall. And she was sure she would recall. No, the man had been like another person these last couple days. Like a soldier on duty. Handing
out orders and instructions, checking perimeters, inventorying weapons. He barely even took time to eat. And he never smiled.

She missed his smile.

Well, she might as well get used to missing him. Growing attached would be foolish. Stone would have no reason to linger after things with Lily were resolved. And if they
weren’t
resolved? Even then, she couldn’t expect him to stay with them indefinitely. At some point he’d return to his retrieving, and she’d be left alone to keep Lily out of Dorchester’s grasp.

Keep me strong, Lord.
Charlotte stiffened her posture and snapped the reins lightly over the backs of the team as the road straightened out once again.
Thank you for sending Stone to help us out
of the trouble of the moment, but don’t let
me depend on him to the point that I’m
no longer able to guard Lily myself when he leaves.

For he would leave. Everyone did. Her father. Her mother. Students graduated. Fellow teachers accepted new positions. Self-serving administrators closed schools. Stephen’s parents would collect him when they returned from their travels abroad. And who knew what would happen with John. Charlotte doubted any court would allow a single woman to officially adopt a child, and though she’d hoped that the overcrowding at St. Peter’s would cause the agent to conveniently forget about her undefined custody arrangement, she couldn’t count on that. If Charlotte made no effort to contact them with John’s whereabouts by the end of the natural school term, they could bring up true charges of kidnapping—charges she couldn’t deny.

Even Lily would leave her someday. Hopefully not by Dorchester’s hand, but still, the day would come. The daughter of her heart would fall in love with some cowboy hero like Dead-Eye Dan, marry, and start a life of her own.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Charlotte.
So what if everyone
left? She’d been on her own most of her life. She was resilient. Strong. She’d survive.

“Miss Lottie . . . I gotta use the necessary.”

Charlotte twisted on the seat to find Lily gripping the edge of the wagon bed, legs crossed, lips in a firm line. She nearly laughed. Here she’d had Lily married off in her mind when the child was barely more than a babe herself.

That’s what I get for
borrowing trouble.

Stephen leaned across John to frown at Lily. “You were supposed to go before we left camp.”

“I didn’t have to go then,” she countered, scowling back at him. “Now I do.”

“All right, children. No need to argue.” Charlotte drew the right rein taut and steered the wagon to the edge of the road before bringing the horses to a halt and setting the brake. “Stephen, climb up here and mind the team while I take Lily.”

Using the wheel spokes like ladder rungs, Charlotte climbed down from her perch and lifted Lily over the side of the wagon.

“Sorry, Miss Lottie. But I couldn’t hold it no more.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Charlotte took her hand and led her toward a stand of post oaks that would serve as a privacy screen. “But next time, when I ask you to take care of business, I expect you to obey instead of justifying why the instruction doesn’t apply to you.”

Lily hung her head. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Charlotte squeezed her hand to let her know she wasn’t angry then released her grip. “Hurry along, now. We have a lot of miles to cover without much daylight left.”

Lily dashed around the trees, consumed by an urgency that had little to do with the sun’s position in the sky.

Charlotte fought a grin as she turned her back. Out of habit, she scanned the road for any sign of traffic—ahead and then
behind. Her ears caught a low rumble. She frowned. Hoofbeats. A lot of them. Coming from around the bend she’d just passed.

“Lily, we’ve got to go. Now!” Charlotte barged into the trees, her heart beating painfully against her ribs.

Lily squealed, still hunkered over, her drawers around her ankles. Charlotte took her by the arm and stood her up. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but there’s no time.” She grabbed the cotton fabric and wrenched it up to her waist.

“Miss Lottie!” the girl protested, not quite grasping the situation beyond the fact that her teacher had just infringed on her privacy.

“Riders are coming.” Charlotte grabbed Lily’s wrist and started dragging her out of the trees. “The boys are alone.”

Finally, the girl seemed to comprehend. Her feet picked up speed, and soon the two of them were running through the brush.

The horses were faster.

Charlotte called out a warning to Stephen, but before the boy could reach under the bench for the shotgun they carried, a group of five men on horseback swarmed the wagon.

“What do we got here?” the lead man drawled as he pulled his mount to a stop at the front of the wagon. He signaled to his companions, and in seconds, the entire wagon was surrounded, with Charlotte and Lily cut off from the boys.