Emma's Blaze (Fires of Cricket Bend Book 2) (3 page)

“I told you I could do lots of things,” she flirted. She couldn’t help herself.

“I am sorry to have ever doubted you.”

“I won’t hold you up,” she promised. The man who stood before her had saved her life. She at least owed him the kindness to not be a burr in his britches.

He nodded. “I know.”

A whistle made them both turn. Appie stood on the back of a wagon, holding a folded pile of fabric. “They ain’t fancy, and they’ll be too big on you, but they’re clean. And a damn sight more practical than that dress. Or what’s left of it.”

Emma looked down at herself. The blue satin traveling gown had been one of her favorite gowns, cut perfectly to her lean shape, and had always seemed to brighten against her skin. Prior to its destruction, it had been the very height of fashion. Now it wasn’t much more than a rag. The damned burrs, as well as the physical exertion of her foot travels, had shredded the fabric at the bottom to a state where keeping the dress would be pointless.

“Bill can help you down to that creek to get cleaned up. In the meantime, I’ll figure out a crutch for you.”

“Thank you,” she said. If Josiah McKenzie hated her, at least Bill and Appie and the others seemed like kind and friendly men.

Bill loaded her back on his horse and walked them down to the creek, to a place out of sight of the camp. “This is about as private as you’re going to get. I’ll stay nearby if you need me, but I won’t look,” he promised as he helped her down.

The strong hands holding her waist felt nice. Emma decided to be bold. “Go ahead and look if you want. I’m not shy, Mr. McKenzie,” she answered.

He laughed and helped her to the edge of the water, where there were rocks to sit on and support herself. “You let me know if you need help.”

From beneath her skirt, she pulled the notebook and pencil.

“I’m happy to hold those for you.” He noticed her hesitation. “You have my word that I won’t read them.”

Trusting Bill was her only choice. Gratefully, she handed the items to him, and he tucked them into the pocket of his jacket. With a nod, he turned his back to her, and she took off what was left of the blue dress. The process took time. Each hook needed to be individually removed, each button pulled from another, and then the top and bottom of the dress needed to be untied from each other. Not to mention she had to do it all while trying not to put weight on her ankle.

Once the outer layers of the dress were off, she made her way delicately into the water by holding onto the rocks. Wading into the cool water up to her waist, she awkwardly stepped out of her dirt-encrusted bloomers beneath the water and untied her corset. She let it float in the water. Quickly, she lifted off her undershirt and ducked in the water up to her shoulders. The water was cold and stung some of her cuts, but mostly felt wonderful. Almost as wonderful as knowing she had clothes to change into when she got out of the water. Though she’d been following the river for days, she’d been too scared to venture in too deep and bathe all alone. She began to wipe away the dirt and blood which had come to feel like a second skin to her, and saw for the first time the cuts and bruises that were underneath. She went completely underwater, and stayed there in the calm silence.

When she came up, she wiped away everything from her face, and pushed her wet hair back. She’d braid it later, which would keep it out of the way on the trail.

Occasionally she glanced over to where Bill leaned against a tree. She wondered if he’d peeked at her. She wished he would. From what she could tell from his form, she’d wager Bill McKenzie swimming without his clothes next to her would be a sight she’d like to see.

She’d always liked men, especially good-looking ones.

It would take them a few weeks to reach Cricket Bend. Weeks of doing nothing but traveling the plains would likely be dull. What could be a better cure for boredom than a little infatuation?

Emma stood up in the water, letting her nakedness show to anyone who was watching.

She waited for him to sneak a peek.

The cursed man was true to his word.

“Bill?” she finally called.

“You all right?” He stood up from where he’d been leaning, but still didn’t turn around.

“I’m fine,” she said. She walked out of the water toward him, wondering what his reaction would be to seeing her without her clothes. Would he be shy and stammer, or would he take her meaning and run with it? “You mind handing me those clothes?”

He tried not to look at her, but she knew he caught a glimpse. As their hands touched at the exchange of fabric, Emma smiled. “I told you I wasn’t shy.”

She dressed quickly, and he only fully turned his eyes on her once she was covered. The dark corduroy pants and men’s striped shirt were far too big for her. But she rolled the sleeves up and tied the shirt over her waist. The pants wouldn’t stay up on their own.

Emma saw the pile of blue satin dress in the dirt. With a chuckle, she decided to cut a strip of her blue dress to serve as a belt, and another as a scarf to shield against the sun. She bet no one else on a cattle drive had ever worn a scarf of satin. “Do you happen to have a knife?”

He handed his over, and Emma cut a long strip of the fabric to fashion a belt of sorts. Then she cut a few more pieces of various sizes for different purposes and dropped the remainder of the dress back to the dirt. No sense in hauling it along. That part of her life was long gone, and seemed a million years and miles away.

“Adios,” she whispered, then kicked some dirt onto the blue fabric and left it behind.

The only way was forward—to Cricket Bend, and the man she sought.

The man who’d stolen her money.

The moon was high by the time they rode back to camp, and Emma’s mouth watered at the smell of stew with beef and potatoes and fresh-baked bread. The meal was simple, but there was a lot of it, and Appie scooped her a big bowl. The men talked as they ate, as if Emma being there wasn’t terribly out of the ordinary. She quickly put together which men were Bill’s brothers—Pete, Jess, Saul, and somewhere another brother, Andrew, who they suspected had ridden off in search of a game of cards. No one seemed pleased by that news.

When they’d finished eating, and a group of men went off to keep watch of the herd, Saul pulled his harmonica and played a somber tune as he rode off into the dark.

Night fell, and Emma realized she was about to be in the dark with a group of men she didn’t even know. She’d become so used to running, her instinct had her trying to think of a way to slip away when Bill’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

He handed her a bedroll. “We always carry a spare. You’re welcome to it. Set up anywhere you like. We don’t stand on formality ’round here. No one will mess with you, but I’ll stay by you if you like.”

Why she trusted him, she didn’t know. For all his kindness, he was no more than a stranger. Still, something in his presence was comforting.

He spread out his bedroll, and she followed his lead. It was better than she’d expected: a padded mattress and a blanket, rolled tightly together.

“I apologize. It’s not as fine as a real bed,” Bill said.

“I have slept on the ground for more nights than I care to remember,” Emma replied. “This is finer than any bed you could deliver.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his face crease into a smile.

“I can’t imagine how a woman like you could find herself out in the trees like you were.”

“I’m sure the versions of the story you’re imagining are far more interesting than the real thing,” Emma answered as they set up their sleeping areas. Their heads would be close together, but their bodies would stretch in separate ways. Emma appreciated his formality and awareness of her feminine nerves and delicate position. She sat on her bedroll and started to run her fingers through the tangle of her drying hair. Her long red locks were always a hassle, and since they hadn’t seen a comb in days, they were especially insistent on remaining a jungle. If she’d been a less vain woman, she’d take Bill’s knife and chop off all of her hair for practicality’s sake. But she couldn’t see reaching her destination dressed like a man
and
having short-cropped hair. A woman needed something to feel beautiful about. Emma’s hair was practically her calling card. Instead of chopping it off, she started to braid the wet strands.

“Are you married, Mr. McKenzie?”

Bill shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

“And why is that?” He nearly spit his coffee at her bold question. “We’re to be stuck together for a few weeks, by your words. I’m just trying to get acquainted, as well as figure out why a man of your looks, good nature, and apparent success in ranching hasn’t been scooped up by a lucky woman somewhere along the way. Too wild and wooly to settle down, or just afraid of the whole notion?”

“There’s very little in this world I’m afraid of. Reckon you’re the same.”

“There’s plenty I’m afraid of,” Emma replied as she tied her braid with a piece of the blue satin. “But what’s the point of living in fear?” Her journal fell open to a fresh page when she unlaced the leather cord that held it shut. On the clean paper, she wrote the names of the men she’d met that day, starting with Bill McKenzie.

“What’s the date?” she asked.

“April fourth,” he answered.

Her expression must have given away her surprise, for Bill’s brow creased. “How long were you out here?”

“Two weeks,” she answered. “It seemed somehow both longer and shorter than that at the same time.”

“How’d you come to be out here in the first place?”

When her eyes met his, she saw that he very sincerely wanted to know. She couldn’t give him that, not yet, and maybe not ever. There were many things she needed to keep close to her chest, and until she knew Bill McKenzie was worth her trust, he wouldn’t get much from her. “I’ll tell you in time. But know that there’s someone who stole from me, and I aim to find them and reclaim what’s mine. Do you know Cricket Bend?”

At the mention of the town, he looked down at his cup. “A bit. It’s not much of a town. Just one main street and farms and houses.”

“Is there a saloon there?”

“There is.”

Emma sighed. “Then that’s where I need to go. May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why do you turn white every time I mention Cricket Bend?”

Bill raised his cup to her. “You tell me your story, and I’ll tell you mine.”

“Someday.”

“Now that sounds like a deal.”

They clinked their cups, and the sound of metal on metal sealed the arrangement.

CHAPTER THREE

Bill

Bill woke up to the sound of banging pots and pans and hollering—Appie’s traditional way of rousing the men from their sound sleep. But this time Sparrow was making a clamor right along with Appie, and appeared to be having a ball. She’d braided her hair and tied it back with a headscarf made from the blue fabric of her dress, and was leaning on a broom to steady her balance. From the finery he’d found her in, Bill had assumed she was a woman accustomed to sleeping late and being waited on, but he also wasn’t surprised to see that she didn’t conform to his expectations. Something about the flame-haired Sparrow made him think he should never let himself be caught off guard.

He’d been surprised by how bold she’d been coming out of the water as naked as the day she was born. Though he tried not to notice, in accordance with how his mama raised him, he certainly hadn’t missed seeing her. The memory of her fine form, even in the shadows, would stay with him for many a night. Long-limbed and delicately shaped, she’d seemed more a piece of sculpture than a real woman. But she’d ridden behind him. He’d carried her in his arms. She was real, and every bit a woman.

And she’d slept only feet away from him.

His body stirred at the realization, and he chased the thoughts away. By the time he dealt with his bedroll, ran a hand through his hair, and went off a polite distance to relieve himself before returning to Appie’s cooking area, Sparrow was hobbling around using a broom as a makeshift crutch. He arrived just in time to hear a snippet of conversation.

“What else needs to be done?”

“There’s dishes need washing.”

“I’ll do it.”

Appie put his hands on his hips. “You don’t have to prove yourself to me.”

“I told Mr. McKenzie I would work hard, and I intend to.”

“And that’s fine, but from what I can tell you’ve been through Hell, and you’re gonna need time to heal. Don’t work yourself so hard you forget that. Morning, Bill.”

“Morning,” Bill replied. “Your new assistant giving you trouble?”

Appie shook his wooden spoon at Sparrow. “She won’t sit down and rest, that’s the trouble.”

“You listen to Appie,” Bill said. “He’ll take that spoon to you if you don’t. Hits hard too.”

Appie waved the spoon in agreement. “I’ve paddled each one of these boys in their time. Don’t think just cause you’re a lady I won’t do the same.”

Sparrow held up her hands in a mock surrender and sat down on one of the crates. She poked at the bacon cooking in the frying pan over the fire.

Bill looked at the sky. Though there were clouds, the air didn’t smell of rain. “Reckon it’ll be another mild day. Probably won’t rain until late, if it rains at all.”

Appie’s jovial nature dimmed as his eyes grew worried. “Andrew never came back last night. Your pa is fit to be tied.”

Bill’s hackles raised as Appie handed him the pot of coffee and a cup to pour it into. Andrew frequently rode off from the group, in a huff or looking for something, but he always managed to come back by morning.
Damn.
Riding off and never returning was how Theo had met his end, and Bill wasn’t interested in losing another brother to stupidity. “I’ll find him.”

Sparrow looked over her shoulder at his words. “Do you know where he went?”

“Probably to the nearest saloon.”

“Appie, Bill, ma’am,” Ollie greeted as he came to the fire and was handed a plate. “Good morning.”

Bill set down his coffee cup. “It’d be better if my damn brother wasn’t set on dying before his time.”

“Andrew doesn’t want this life,” Appie informed Sparrow. “He’d rather play cards than work, and rather live in a big city than on a ranch. Surprised he’s hung around this long. ’Course, he owes Bill for bailing him out of trouble and jail more than once. He can’t stay away from drink and cards. He’s drawn to them.”

“Like a moth to a flame.” Sparrow nodded at Bill.

“Something like that. You from a big city?”

She shook her head. “No, but I’ve lived in a few.”

“Part of that story of yours, I presume.” Bill straightened his hat. “I’ll have some breakfast and go looking for him. Probably waste my time, only to find him sleeping off drink in the bed of some woman somewhere.” For a second, he felt embarrassed to speak of such a thing in the presence of a woman, but Sparrow chuckled. She wasn’t flustered by talk of such things. The mysteries of the red-haired beauty seemed endless. He nodded to Appie. “Keep an eye on her for me, would you?”

“I surely will.” Appie handed him a plate of food and a cup of coffee.

Bill ate and thought. The nearest town to them would be Carpenter, though all it had was a run-down shack of a saloon and a small hotel. Not Andrew’s kind of town. His fool brother could have ridden out for Dyson, though that’d be a three day ride at least and he must have known he’d be pursued if he were gone that long. Jess had said the night before he’d seen Andrew riding west, so Dyson seemed a logical choice. Bill would start there and see what he could find. He hoped it wouldn’t be a vulture-pecked body to add to the sorrows of the trail.

Someday, when Bill took over the ranch, his first act would be to weed out the men whose hearts weren’t true and whose loyalty he didn’t trust. Pete and Jess and Saul were stalwart and steady men he could always count on. They’d marry and start families one day, but they’d work the ranch for the rest of their lives, god willing.

Theo had been different, and Andrew was the same way—wandering, aimless, hard-hearted. There was never enough trouble to go around as far as those boys were concerned.

And look where it had gotten Theo. He was buried a few hundred miles ahead.

Bill hoped Andrew wouldn’t wind up the same, though he wondered how many more times he could trouble himself with coming to the rescue.

Bill barely tasted the food as he ate and drank, lost in thought. He found himself loading his bedroll onto Orion’s saddle and mounting to ride before he fully realized what he was doing. A ways off, he saw his father looking at him. Bill nodded. His pa nodded back.

He rode most of the morning and afternoon before he caught sight of something up ahead that made him pull back the reins on his horse.

Riders, coming fast and hard toward him.

Andrew was the first one, and it only took Bill a moment to realize Andrew wasn’t riding with the other two men, but away from them as fast as his horse could run.

He drew his shotgun, and readied for a fight.

Being the responsible eldest brother often meant doing the most difficult work.

Bill positioned himself for a clear shot. When Andrew had moved out of range, Bill fired at the ground before the approaching horses. Two shots, well-aimed and fast, stopped the riders and caused their horses to rear. One fell off his saddle, and the other pulled his own gun.

“I wouldn’t,” Andrew threatened. He turned and joined Bill again, gun drawn.

The furious rider still on his horse shook his head. “We don’t take kindly to cheats.”

“I did not cheat,” Andrew called to them. “I’m just better at poker than you.”

Bill doubted that. In fact, when he glanced at Andrew and saw the smirk on his face, he knew it wasn’t true. Andrew had cheated at cards with these men, and it had nearly cost him his life.

“Give them back their money,” he whispered.

“Like hell I will,” Andrew replied. “If you’re dumb enough to play cards with a stranger, you deserve to be cheated.”

“Give them back their money,” Bill repeated.

“I will not.”

“Then I’m going to put down my gun and ride away. They’ve no quarrel with me yet. It ain’t my fight, and I don’t aim to die so you can win at some damn cards.”

“You two hens done clucking at each other?” The man on the ground had gotten back on his horse. “Listen, cowboy, ride out of here. Your friend, he’s the one we want.”

“He’s not my friend,” Bill said. “He’s my brother. And he’s going to return your money, and we’re all going to ride back to where we came from, nice and peaceful-like. Ain’t that right, Andrew?”

“Shoot, Bill, I thought we was both friends and brothers.”

Bill kept his eyes and his gun focused on the angry riders, but he felt Andrew’s rage next to him, despite the stranger’s taunt. If Andrew thought Bill was going to play along with a dishonest heist, he was dead wrong. He repeated his question. “Ain’t that right, Andrew?”

His brother sighed loudly, but reached into his pocket and pulled out a small roll of bills that he held up high, rode forward, and tossed. The money was caught. No one breathed until the men counted the stack, nodded gravely, and made haste away from the brothers.

Bill eased up and lowered his gun. “Someday you’re going to find yourself in a mess I won’t be around or able to get you out of.”

“I’ve been in plenty of messes and gotten myself out just fine.”

“Name one,” Bill challenged.

Andrew’s head whirled around to see Bill. “You know, you’re not always right. Just because you’re oldest, and ’cause Pa likes you best, doesn’t make you better than us.”

“Never said I was better,” Bill replied. Then he laughed. “Smarter, though…”

He turned Orion and rode back the way he’d come. “Let’s put as much distance as we can between us and them before it gets dark,” Bill said. “We can camp, leave at first light, and catch the others by tomorrow night.”

When the sun went down, the brothers stopped riding.

“I’ll make a fire,” Bill announced. “See if you can scare up some dinner.”

“You trust me not to ride off?” Andrew asked.

“No,” Bill said. “But I’m sick and tired of being in that damn saddle, which is your fault, so you can at least go hunt to say thank you.”

To Andrew’s credit, he returned a while later with a rabbit. Bill skinned the animal and roasted it over the fire until it was ready to eat, and they split it. Neither of them spoke for a long time.

The silence was fine with Bill, but he knew it was eating at Andrew. His brother grew twitchy, and fidgeted. “You didn’t happen to bring a shaving razor, did you?”

“You know damn well I didn’t.” Bill pointed to his beard. All the mens’ beards had grown in. Who had time to shave on the trail? Andrew did, but he’d always been particular and had decided to spend time each day keeping himself clean-shaven. Each night before he slept, he took out a small mirror and a raw blade and made sure no hair was out of place. He also slicked back his hair and kept it combed, while the men around him resigned themselves to looking rough. From the way Andrew rubbed his jaw. Bill knew that it was driving him crazy to have stubble.

Some men didn’t understand priorities.

Andrew threw a handful of dirt at the fire. “Think Pete’ll ask Helena to marry him when he gets back?”

“I think he’s a fool if he doesn’t. She’s a good woman, and she’s sure waited for him long enough. I reckon Jess will follow not long after. He’s taken a shine to Clara Belmont.”

Andrew nodded. “She’s about the prettiest woman back there, I figure. And the way she looks at him, like she’d like to sneak off together and find a haystack somewhere. A man’d be a fool to resist her.”

“But of course, you’re waiting for Lily up in Abilene.”

Andrew leaned back on his elbows. “I do not believe I am the kind of man meant to be tied to one woman for my entire life. There are so many beauties in the world, after all. I mean to sample my share before I consider settling down.”

“What kind of woman would have a rascal like you?” Bill teased, tossing the bones of the rabbit into the fire. “She’d spend her nights alone, wondering if you’d been shot for cheating at cards.”

“But she’d never be bored,” Andrew said. He looked around him. “No, sir. She’d never be bored like this.”

“I appreciate you coming along,” Bill said. “I know you don’t care for this.”

“I hate every damn minute out here.”

What could Bill say to that?

“I ain’t likely returning to the ranch,” Andrew continued. “There’s too much world out there to spend another minute doing chores. I mean to stay in Abilene, and move on from there. After Lily maybe there’ll be a redhead in Tuscon. I hear it’s lively there.”

At the mention of a redhead, Bill remembered Sparrow, or whatever her real name was, back at the drive with his men. He hoped she was all right. He assumed she would be. A woman like her, strong and sassy, would likely be fine anywhere. He just hoped she hadn’t decided to slip away in his absence, back into the woods or onto the trail of the person she’d mentioned. He’d ridden off quickly, with barely a goodbye. The woman was a stranger, and willful and grumpy. He couldn’t fathom why he wanted to ride back to camp and see her again so bad. Had she gotten under his skin in just one day?

“You’re thinking hard,” Andrew noted. “Don’t you know that’s bad for you?”

“There’s a woman at camp,” Bill blurted.