Authors: Michele Paige Holmes
Chapter 2
Thayne’s hand closed over the woman’s arm, jerking her forward, away from the train. She landed face down on him, her head striking his chin hard as they fell back in the dirt.
Stunned and breathless, neither moved, aside from the murmur of pain that escaped her lips. Beside them, the train rolled by, the sounds gradually fading as it left them behind. A moment ago, he’d caught the train again and been safe and sound on the step, about to go through the car door to try to reason with that teacher again. Now it seemed she’d changed her mind all on her own, literally jumping off the train after him—a slight problem since his horse was long gone and they were in the middle of nowhere.
“So much for your claim of modesty,” he breathed into her ear.
The woman’s eyes flew open, and she lifted her head, staring at him with those immense brown eyes.
Her only good feature, thank goodness.
“
You,
” she started. “This is all your fault.”
Beneath the bandana he chuckled. “I don’t see how, as you’re the one who jumped out and landed on top of me.”
“
What?
” she cried and then realized he spoke the truth. Hastily, she tried to push herself off him, but as she rolled to the side, her ankle tangled with his pant leg, and she shouted.
“Quiet,” he ordered, bringing a calloused finger to her lips.
“I will not be quiet. I—”
“Shh.” His whole hand covered her mouth. “Keep quiet—unless you
want
to work in a brothel.”
Her eyes widened, and Thayne saw the fear return.
Good
, he thought. A woman with a little fear might just show a bit of common sense.
“Get up,” he ordered as he stood and looked around. The Martins were just a speck in the distance. If he was fortunate, the others hadn’t seen them or heard all the commotion she’d made, and when he didn’t show, they’d think he had met ill luck on the train. Then again, when was the last time anything fortunate
had
happened to him?
Two years back when you found that gold vein.
He pushed the thought aside. The success of his mine no longer qualified as good fortune but rather the beginning of several disasters that had sent his life spiraling downhill.
Thayne tugged the bandana from his face and reached for his canteen. At least he’d had sense enough to keep that with him. And the way he saw it, that was about all he had to get him and the woman back to the Lakota camp. Yep. A couple of hard weeks lay before them, for sure.
He unscrewed the cap and lifted the canteen to his lips for a brief drink before looking at the woman, who was still sitting in the dirt.
“Thirsty?” he asked, holding the canteen out to her.
She shook her head.
“Suit yourself. Let me know if you change your mind.” He twisted the lid back on. “We’d best get going. I’d like to have some better cover if they come looking for us.”
“If
who
comes looking for us?” She held a hand to her forehead and squinted as she looked up at him.
Thayne nodded to the east. “Martin’s gang, of course.”
“Of course,” she said tartly, folding her arms across her chest. “I’ve no intention of going anywhere with you.”
He gave her an exasperated look. “Listen, missy. It’s come with me or die out here, so get off your high horse and let’s go.” In what he thought was a measure of extraordinary gallantry, he leaned forward, extending his hand to help her up.
She struck quickly, her booted foot kicking his inner thigh almost before he’d realized what hit him. A second later, she was up and running—in the right direction, at least.
Doubled over, Thayne swore under his breath as he watched her lopsided run. Had he picked a female who was
lame
? His forehead creased with concern. That’d be just his luck. Straightening, he spied a dark piece of wood nestled among the grasses. He reached over, picked it up, and felt relief when he realized he held the heel of a lady’s boot. For the first time all week, he smiled.
She wasn’t lame. He looked eastward and saw that the horses had disappeared.
“Thank you, Lord,” he said. He’d got himself a teacher who wasn’t pretty and who could walk, and that was about all he could ask for.
* * *
“When we reach that outcropping, we’re going to angle north.” Thayne looked behind them for the hundredth time in the past couple of hours. He felt uneasy, though there wasn’t any sign of Russell Martin or his brothers.
The woman gave no indication that she’d heard him but kept up her same resolute pace several feet ahead. Her limp had somewhat lessened since he’d broken off the heel of her other boot a couple of hours ago. She hadn’t spoken but maybe a dozen words all day, and that suited him fine. Though just now, he needed her to listen.
“North, I said.” He spoke firmly, hoping he wouldn’t have to get his gun out again.
“Feel free to go where you’d like.” Her voice was filled with disdain. “However,
I
am going to stay near the tracks until I reach the next town.”
“Be a long, cold night out here alone—especially with nothing to keep the coyotes away.”
She threw a glance over her shoulder. “I’ll take my chances.”
It was the first time he’d looked at her face since she’d run off from him this morning. And her cheeks, flush with color, worried him.
“Stop a minute,” he ordered. “You need to drink some water.”
She shook her head and kept trudging forward.
“Stubborn woman,” Thayne muttered under his breath as he lengthened his strides to catch her. He reached for her arm just as she spun around to face him.
“
Don’t
touch me. Or—I’ll scratch both your eyes out.” She held her hands up in front of her chin, fingernails threatening.
“I’ve no doubt,” he said dryly. His eye was still sore from her earlier handiwork. He pulled the strap from his shoulder and held the canteen out to her. “Here.”
She looked at it a moment, and Thayne could see her stubborness battling with her need for a drink. Finally, she took it from him. He watched, exasperated, as she bent over, using her skirt to wipe the rim of the canteen—as if she couldn’t stand her mouth touching something his had.
“Not too much,” he warned as she gulped down the water. “That’s all we have.”
“Until when?” Her tongue licked the last of the moisture from her lips.
Irritated that he’d noticed, he looked away. “Until we find a creek or river to replenish it.”
She frowned at him. “Didn’t plan this too well, did you?”
“I didn’t plan on such a mouthy woman.” An image of Christina popped into his mind.
Should have, though. Seems to be the only sort I can ever find.
“Pardon if I failed to thank you for abducting me,” she said as she screwed the lid back on the canteen and slung the strap over her shoulder. “I’ll just keep this.”
He scowled but decided it wasn’t worth fighting over. The water was almost gone anyway. But he did set the record straight. “I
didn’t
abduct you. I saved your hide when you jumped outta that train. If it weren’t for me, you’d have been crushed.”
“I did
not
jump. I was pushed.” With a flounce of skirts, she turned away and began walking.
“Hmmpf. And just who woulda done that?” He grunted his disbelief as he followed, keeping well enough away that she couldn’t strike him if her temper suddenly flared again—which he had no doubt it would. “Russell and his brothers were long gone by then.”
She continued her unbalanced walk, though her pace slowed a little. “I think it was the old woman sitting next to me.”
“Not dear sweet granny?” he asked, feigning surprise.
“I—” Her mouth closed as quickly as it had opened.
“You lied,” he accused, his lips twitching.
“Perfectly acceptable under the circumstances.” She glared at him, daring him to say otherwise.
“And here I thought I was getting a respectable schoolmarm.”
She said nothing to that but turned her face away, continuing her forlorn limp.
“Still hard to believe you were pushed, though. What did you have in your bag besides a dictionary? Cash—gold?”
She shook her head miserably. “No gold. Just a bit of family silver. But who would have thought that sweet old lady . . .”
Her voice trailed off, but not before Thayne heard a catch of sadness.
“Can’t trust nobody,” he said, shaking his head. “People aren’t always what they appear to be.”
She glanced at him. “Lesson learned. Though you appear
exactly
as you are—a low-down, conniving desperado, taking advantage of the innocent. A despoiler of women.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said, stopping her tirade. “I’ll give you low-down, thieving, and whatever else it was you called me, but I’m not that last bit. I’ve never taken advantage of a woman, and I never will.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that? After you forced me off—”
He shook his head at her.
“You
tried
to abduct me.”
“It was just a show till the Martins were all off the train. I was planning to stay on board until Sidney—hopefully having persuaded you to join me by then.”
“As if I’d believe you were searching for a teacher,” she said.
“Believe what you want. But if all I’d wanted you for was a roll in the hay—or prairie—” Thayne made a point of looking around at the vast emptiness surrounding them, “I could’ve done that hours ago.”
“Well then, Mr. . . .”
“Kendrich,” he answered brusquely without removing his hat or bothering with niceties. Their conversation was getting a little long as far as he was concerned.
“Mr. Kendrich,” she continued. “Where are we going, and what is it you intend to do with me?”
He touched her elbow, pointing her northward. “We’re going to Dakota territory, to a Sioux camp in the Black Hills.
Her feet stopped, and she pulled away from him. “
Indians?
”
He heard the alarm in her voice but didn’t feel inclined to ease her fears just yet. He had enough worries of his own at the moment. Someone was following them. He could feel it.
“Yes, Indians,” he said impatiently. “They’ve got something valuable of mine, but now that I have you, I can get it back.” He peered over his shoulder again.
Her eyes widened in alarm. “What do you mean, now that you have me? What—”
“Listen, Miss—”
“Madsen,” she said with as little formality as he’d used.
“Miss Madsen, neither of us is going to reach that camp alive unless we quit talking and get outta here. I’ve got a bad feeling the Martin gang isn’t too far away, and I’ve seen personally that Russell Martin doesn’t like deserters.” He took her elbow, firmly this time, and steered her north.
“But—”
“
Later,”
he insisted.
She pursed her lips into a thin line and stopped once more. “I’m not going one step farther until you explain what you intend to do at that Indian camp. Because if you think for one minute—”
Thayne pulled his pistol from its holster. Holding the gun, he leveled it at her. “Move.”
She shook her head and put her hands on her hips. “If you’ve never taken advantage of a woman, then I imagine it’s safe to assume you won’t shoot one.”
Thayne’s eyes narrowed. “Wrong again,” he said in complete seriousness. “I
have
shot a woman before, and I won’t hesitate to do so again.”
Chapter 3
She slept like the dead. Thayne had briefly considered tying her up in case she got some hair-brained idea to scratch his eyeballs out or walk off in the middle of the night, but less than five minutes after he’d finally announced they could call it a day, she’d slumped over and fallen fast asleep. Somehow it didn’t seem right to bind the hands of a sleeping woman.
But you felt all right kidnapping her?
Watching her now, he felt a strong wave of guilt. Curled up on her side, with her hair in disarray and her lips slightly parted, she looked innocent and young—a whole lot younger than he’d first thought her to be. At this time yesterday, she’d probably been full of dreams for an adventure out west. And if she had come from a family with silver to spare, he wagered she hadn’t come to be a schoolteacher out of necessity but rather because she wanted to.
And he’d snatched those dreams right away from her.
But I had no choice,
he argued with his conscience.
She’s the one who jumped off that train. And now that I have her . . .
It was her dreams or Joshua, and Thayne knew he’d board that train again if he had to. He’d do anything for Joshua. And that was what he needed to concentrate on now—keeping himself and the teacher alive as they crossed the next three hundred miles.
They’d made surprisingly good time today—he estimated they’d walked near twenty miles. Not too bad, considering they’d had to go it without a horse. If they kept going at the same pace, another two weeks ought to get them to the Lakota camp.
Two weeks too long,
he thought. It had been plenty foolish of him to lose his supplies and his horse. But worse than that was the feeling he couldn’t shake that the Martins were bent on returning them to him. He’d have a hard time explaining why he’d taken the woman and run off instead of bringing her back to work with the rest of the women as they’d agreed upon.
This was the part where his plan grew fuzzy. It had seemed pretty simple and straightforward beforehand. Join up with a gang of outlaws. Pretend to rob a train with them and find a teacher in the process. Then get the teacher and yourself away from the outlaws. Get Joshua. Get home.
With a grimace, Thayne realized how much Miss Madsen had spoken the truth today when she’d accused him of not planning well. He hoped his flaw wouldn’t prove fatal to them both.
She sighed as she rolled onto her back. Thayne wished he had something to cover her with—not just so she’d stay warm through the night but, more importantly, so he wouldn’t have to look at her. Already, he was irritated with himself for the dozen little things he’d noticed about her today. He hadn’t wanted to notice anything but instead found himself thinking of her big brown eyes when she first looked at him on the train. He’d called her
brownie
because of the gosh-awful getup she wore, but once he saw those eyes, he could hardly think of her any other way.
A wry grin curved his lips as he remembered her determination to fight him off tooth—literally—and nail. She had a surprising amount of strength for such a little slip of a thing.
All good qualities
, he reasoned, as he caught himself again glancing at the rise and fall of her chest. Would she fight like that for Joshua? If so, what more could he ask for?
Sleep. That’s what.
Watching her sleep brought a longing for him to do the same, and after another look around, he pulled off his hat and lay a few feet away from Miss Madsen. The unease that had been with him all day lingered a few minutes more, until, at last, even that was overcome and he drifted off to a restless sleep.
* * *
Emmalyne hardly dared to breathe as she looked at the sleeping outlaw and tried to decide whether to take his gun. She decided it wasn’t worth the risk of waking him when—even if she had gotten the weapon—she doubted she could use it on him, probably not even on an animal. She’d never held a gun before and had no idea how to work one.
Her decision made, she eased away, carefully turning her body just enough that she could get on her hands and knees. She moved first her right hand and then foot, stopping to see if he’d heard the rustling of her skirts. After several seconds, all remained quiet, and Emmalyne reached down, gathering as much of her petticoats as she could. Stuffing the edge of the layers beneath her tucked chin, she began a slow, painstaking crawl through the tall grass, putting distance between herself and the outlaw. She was pretty sure she could find the railroad track again, and if she walked hard like yesterday, it ought to bring her to a town by tomorrow.
Another whole day. She wanted to die. Her feet were overrun with blisters, and her face felt tight and hot with sunburn. The miracle of train travel was brought sharply into focus as her body protested even her slow, quiet movements. What would happen when she tried to stand and use her legs? Muscles she hadn’t even known existed were already crying out in pain. She forced herself to keep going. A little farther and she’d feel it safe to stand and move faster.
As she crawled, she looked down at her hands. The last thing she needed was to come across an unsuspecting snake.
Left. Right. Left. Ri—
Something clamped around her ankle and pulled. A scream tore from her throat as she fought for her balance and lost, landing facedown, spread-eagle on the ground.
“So beat you can’t even walk? Gonna make for a long day.”
Emmalyne clenched her teeth as she rolled over onto her back and looked up at the outlaw.
“Mornin’,” he said cheerfully. He let go of her ankle and straightened. “Glad to see you’re an early riser. Let’s get going and enjoy the cool while we can.”
She rose up on her elbows but made no move to go any farther. Thayne pulled the gun on her again.
“I’d act the gentleman and offer you a hand, but last time that didn’t go so well.”
Emmalyne hesitated another second, wondering if he’d actually shoot her. After all, didn’t he need her for something? What good would she do him if he shot her now?
His eyes narrowed. “I could shoot you in the arm and you’d still be able to walk fine,” he said as if in answer to her question. Gone was his cheerful disposition.
Did he read my mind?
Filled with alarm, Emmalyne scrambled to her feet, her aches momentarily forgotten at the possibility of the outlaw putting a bullet in her arm.
“Give me the canteen.” He held his free hand out.
This time she hurried to comply. Though she knew it was foolish, she couldn’t seem to help herself from speaking smugly as she handed it to him. “It’s empty. I drank the last of the water this morning.”
She watched warily as he removed the cap and tilted the canteen up to his lips. She couldn’t tell if anything came out but knew it couldn’t have been more than a drop or two. A knot of worry formed in her empty stomach. Just watching him reminded her of her own unquenched thirst.
Yesterday, sheer terror and the hope that following the tracks would bring her to safety had kept her walking. But now they were away from the rail line, and she was already hungry, thirsty, and sore. She knew she’d never make it all day as she had yesterday. Would he shoot her if she collapsed?
“Don’t fret,” he said as he replaced the lid and pulled the strap over his shoulder. “We’ll be to water within an hour or two.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, further unnerved that he seemed to have read her mind again.
“And then
I’ll
have the
first
drink.” He waved her in front of him with the gun, and they were off.