Brides of Texas (38 page)

Chris paced back and forth along the hallway. His boots made a measured sound that wasn’t dissimilar to the steady beat of a metronome. He pulled out Da’s gold pocket watch and gritted his teeth. He’d given them half an hour. It had been fifty-eight minutes now. Snapping the case closed, he barreled toward the kitchen.

His plan had been to ride hard and get to the next railroad town. If they could hop the train, get off, backtrack, and zigzag, he could tuck her in with his family and be back out after Whelan.

But so far, nothing had gone according to his plans. As a result, he’d put together saddlebags for them. Small bags of jerked beef, dried fruit, and nuts would do. He didn’t waste space with beans, rice, or coffee—those would require a cook fire. That would give Whelan a beacon. Still, Chris carefully wax-dipped the heads of several matches and stored some in each pack, along with a knife wrapped in a towel and a bit of soap. Most important, he supplied them each with two canteens of water. The second outlaw’s horse was sound, so Chris loaded an extra blanket and water on him. That way, if one of the horses went lame, they’d not have to slow down.

“We’re leaving. Now.” He plowed through the kitchen door and stopped short. “What happened to your hair?”

Katie reached up and tugged one of the spiraling tendrils at her temple. “You wanted me to look different.”

“You could have stuffed it up under a hat. You didn’t have to go changing the color!”

“It’s very attractive.” “Rahab’s” voice took on an edge. “It puts me in mind of cinnamon. You said you wanted to disguise her, and henna was an excellent solution. The reddish tinge is becoming, don’t you think?”

He grabbed a hat from the table and shoved it toward Katie. “You look different. That’s what’s important. Lucille, thanks for all of your help. Katie, let’s mount up.”

“But I was going to see the marshal.”

“I already dropped in on him.” Chris took her elbow and hauled her to her feet.

“Thank you so much, Miss…Lucille.” Katie turned to the cook. “And thank you for that wonderful spaghetti, too. Once I get settled, I’ll be sure to send you my address so you can mail me your recipe.”

“Lucille, I appreciate all you’ve done. One of the men I brought in had a bounty on his head. The sheriff will see that you receive it.”

He took Katie over to the mare hitched beside his gelding. Katie turned back toward the cathouse. “We have an extra mount, Lucille. Why don’t you come along?”

“I’ll stay and guard your sewing machine.”

“I’d rather have you with us than own a sewing machine.”

His anger at her dawdling evaporated. She prized her sewing machine, depended on it for her living, yet she’d not given a moment’s thought about sacrificing it.

“You darling girl.” The madam smiled. “Off with you now.”

Katie squeezed his arm and said softly, “Maybe she’s afraid you don’t want her along. Invite her.”

“Dinna hound the woman, lass. She can walk away from there anytime she pleases. Just be grateful she was there to help us out today.”

Katie cleared her throat. “Mr. Gregor—”

“No more.” He scowled so she’d understand he wouldn’t put up with any further delays. “We’ve lost precious travel time already.”

“Fine.” She glowered back at him. “But I ought to warn you, I’ve never ridden a horse.”

“You’d best learn fast.” He locked his hands around Katie’s waist and hefted her into the saddle. “Stay close and stay quiet.”

Chris wanted to make up time. He’d never planned to waste so much of it trying to stuff Katie into a disguise. Why Lucille chose this one was beyond him. With her hair up in a loose, soft swirl and dressed in that get-up, Katie looked like a princess. The way the waist on the riding outfit nipped in showed off her tiny middle. Even the spectacles looked nice. Instead of the stingy little round lenses she’d worn when he first spied her, this pair looked like jewelry and let him appreciate the fine sight of her blue, blue eyes.
Well, Whelan won’t recognize her now
.

She seemed fairly stable in the saddle, but Chris forced himself to keep to a reasonable speed. She needed to get her bearings. When she sighed, he steeled himself for the inevitable complaints.

“She’s beautiful. It’s a pity we don’t know her name.”

“I dinna care what she’s called, so long as she’s swift and sure.”

“She is quite swift.”

Chris shook his head. “We’ve barely set a pace. I want you to feel steady in the saddle, so we’ve started out slow. I’ll be speeding us up. It’ll be gradual so you can adjust to each change. You’ll have to be able to ride at a full-on, dead run if Whelan comes close.”

“I thought we were managing a remarkable pace.”

He decided to give her a few pointers. “I’m not going to mince words or be delicate. If you don’t want to get sore, I have to be blunt.”

She hesitated a moment, then nodded.

“Always keep your thighs and upper calves right up against the mare. It’ll help keep you balanced and tell her what you want her to do.” Chris thought he’d heard her gasp when he mentioned the intimate parts of her “limbs,” but he ignored her reaction. Instead, he went on, “Keep your knees and ankles bent so they absorb some of the jarring motion so you dinna slap against the cantle.”

An icy voice inquired from behind her fancy hat’s veil, “Is there anything else?”

“Aye. Dinna tiptoe. Heels down, toes up. When I get us to a fast trot, you’ll see me actually stand slightly in the stirrups and rest my hand on the saddle horn. Bend at the hips and keep your elbows in.”

He rode alongside her for a while, but her rigid posture and frosty silence let him know he’d offended her sensibilities. They went from a walk to a slow trot. Unwilling to put up with her snit, Chris pulled ahead. He knew the territory well. At one point, he stopped and ordered, “Have a swig from your canteen.”

She nodded, loosened her veil, and obeyed. Up close, Chris could see through the veil fairly well. She seemed to be holding up satisfactorily. After she screwed the lid back on the canteen, he pulled a small, smooth stone from his pocket. “Suck on this for the remainder of the day. It keeps your mouth moist so you don’t get so thirsty.”

“Thank you.”

“Miss Regent, this is a rough land. We’re in a tough situation. I’m not trying to offend you by being straightforward in my speech. You canna get huffy because I’m a plainspoken man. If it means I have to remark on specific portions of your person to teach you how to do things, I’m not going to mince my words.”

“I wouldn’t expect otherwise, Mr. Gregor.”

He took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Then why are you so mad?”

She daintily arranged ruffles on the cuff of her blouse. In a tiny voice, she admitted, “I’m not angry, sir. I’m embarrassed.”

He laughed in relief, then demanded, “Stop being goosey.”

Katie stopped outside the rail station, dampened her handkerchief, and blotted Christopher’s forehead. He jumped, but she held him still. “Shhh,” she murmured. “The sun’s been too much for you.”

“What gave you that cockeyed notion?”

She sighed. He’d just indulged in an embarrassing shouting match when he bought the tickets, claiming that the price was far too high when they’d be getting off only two stops away. “You bought tickets on the train.”

“I know I did.”

Her worries mounted. He’d already given vent to his ire, and she didn’t want to set him off again. What would he do when she pointed out his error? She moistened her lips, then gave him a pitying look. “The tickets you bought are on the train going back the way we came.”

A slow smile creased his tanned face. “I know.” He took hold of her arm and led her down the boardwalk.

Her eyes widened. “You did it on purpose.”

Minutes later, dressed in widow’s weeds and a heavily veiled hat Chris had just bought her, Katie bought tickets for the train. He’d sent her to do it while he turned in their third horse to the local sheriff.

A short time later on the train, Katie fought the urge to sleep. The rocking motion and her exhaustion tempted her to close her eyes. She hid a yawn behind her hand.

“Sleep, lass.”

She gave him a guilty look.

“You’ve earned a good, long rest. Go on.”

The next thing she knew, something was missing. Motion. Sound. She opened her eyes and let out a gasp. In the dead of night, she’d used Mr. Gregor’s upper arm as a pillow. Mortified, she sat ramrod straight and wouldn’t look at him.

“This is our stop.” He rose.

She disembarked and waited as he claimed their horses from the livestock car. The very thought of sitting in the saddle made her want to wail like a pinched baby.

In the early dawn light, Chris beckoned her. She pretended not to see him. “Katie, come, lass.”

“You didn’t have to bellow at me,” she muttered as she gathered her skirts and joined him.

The man had the nerve to laugh.

“You’re demented, Chris Gregor. And you’re out of your mind if you think you’re going to talk me into riding all day again.”

“We willna ride all day.”

She shot him a sideways glance. “I’m not going to ride even half of the day.”

He cupped her elbow. “You’ve got a sassy streak, woman.”

“It’s your fault. Until you barged into my life, I was sedate and ladylike. Where are you taking me now?”

“You’ll see.”

One of the horses exhaled loudly, his loose lips causing a scoffing sound. Katie looked over her shoulder. “I couldn’t agree more emphatically.” A few minutes later, she heaved a loud sigh. “Had I known you planned a procession down the center of the street, I might have woven flower garlands for the horses so people would think we were a small parade. As it is, anyone spying us will be certain we’ve taken leave of our senses.”

He tossed the horses’ reins around a hitching post and dragged her around the building.

“What a darling little cottage!”

He let out a rude snort. “It’s Duncan’s cobbler shop.” He tugged her to make her turn to the side.

Katie stopped so suddenly, he nearly pulled her over. She’d spent her life in rough cabins, squalid rooms, and shacks—but it never stopped her from dreaming that one day she’d live in a big white house with airy-looking lacework and a veranda. The home of her dreams stood before her.

He slipped his arm around her waist. “You’re almost there. Just a few more steps now.”

Anticipation gave her a little spurt of energy.
I get to see this place
. As they walked up the steps to a wondrous-looking home, the sound of a baby’s cries met them.

She balked.
I was an idiot to think this was his home and he was done dragging me all the way across Texas. A bachelor wouldn’t live in such a grand place. Well, maybe I’ll get to rest or freshen up
. The baby let out an ear-piercing cry.
I won’t rest. That’s for sure
.

“Whose house is this?”

“Mine.” Pride rang in his voice. “I built it.”

“It’s magnificent.”

“ ’Tis who’s on the inside that counts, not what’s on the outside.” Anticipation colored his words as he opened the door.

A woman in the rocking chair beamed. “You’re home!”

“Aye, that I am.” Pleasure saturated those simple words. He slipped past Katie, kissed the fussy baby on the head, and then brushed a kiss on the woman’s cheek. “Ooch, now, what’s amiss with our wee little lassie?”

He told me he wasn’t married
.

“She’s cutting another tooth.” The woman patted her baby and smiled at Katie. “Hello, I’m Mercy.”

Mercy is his sister-in-law
. Recalling that fact made relief wash over Katie.
He could have told me they all lived together
.

“This is Katie Regent. I thought you could use a little help, and Katie is needing a safe place to stay awhile.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Now that Duncan’s married and moved across the street, his room is empty.”

“Thank you.”

A man came down the stairs. “Who are you talking—Chris!” He strode over and smacked his brother on the back with a force that would have felled an ordinary man.

“Rob!” Chris gave him a powerful embrace.

Clearly, they were brothers. Both had black hair and were tall and broad shouldered. Chris’s profile was craggier, his voice deeper. He rested a hand lightly on Katie’s shoulder. “Katie’s come to stay awhile. Rob, I’m needing to speak with you a moment.”