My Desperado (26 page)

She felt her cheeks heat as a flame scorched a trail through her fingers to her body. "Yes. But I escaped."

For a moment his jaw hardened, making him look very much like the man she had first met on a dark street in Silver Ridge.

“That makes me mad." He said the words in a flat monotone. "Not like a preacher should feel."

Katherine blinked, realizing she was breathing hard. "It's not surprising that sin makes you angry. After all, you try to do God's will and think others should also."

She lifted her gaze nervously to his and found with consternation that she could not pull it away. His eyes were very blue and deep and warm.

"Are you sure I'm a preacher?" he murmured.

The tension made it hard for her to breathe. In all her life she had never wanted anything more than she wanted to kiss him now.

"Are you sure?" he asked, touching a hand to her side to draw her gently closer.

"Yes." The word squeaked from her mouth as she jerked quickly back. "Absolutely."

"Why are you traveling with me, then? Are you my wife?"

Her jaw dropped. "Wife?" For just a moment the temptation to say yes was overpowering. But the discussion of preachers and God made her shake her head. "No. No, I'm not."

"My sister?"

"No!" That answer came easier.

"Then what?" He shook his head as if unable to find a place for her in the life she described.

"I just help you. Assist you. Yes." She nodded. "I, too, was called to do the Lord's work."

"Why do you dress like a boy?"

"Oh, that! It was your idea actually. You felt I would be safer if people didn't know I was a woman."

He stared at her. "Because you're too tempting?"

“Tempting?" she breathed.

"Every man would want you, of course. For his own."

For a moment Kat was certain she would melt from the intensity of his eyes, but found she could say or do nothing to break the spell.

"So we work together?" His voice was low now, and his hand pressed her gently toward him again. "Very close together?"

She was being drawn into the flame of his person, pulled irresistibly downward. "I have to go!" she sputtered, trying to yank away but finding her hand was still caught in his. "Talk to Mr. Blackfeather."

"Kat?"

She refused to look at him. "Yes?"

"Don't leave me."

"But Mr. Black—"

"Tell me about yourself. I can't remember, and there must be so much to know."

"About me?" She winced at the sound of her own voice. "There's not...not much to know."

"Where did you grow up?"

She swallowed, feeling painfully foolish with her hand held tightly in his and the lies building around her like smothering grains of sand. "Boston," she managed finally, feeling it would surely be safest to tell the truth whenever possible.

"And your family is still there?"

"Just my mother. My father died some years back."

He watched her closely, making her feel very nervous, so that she lowered her eyes and searched for something to say.

"He was a minister...too," she added quickly, lifting her gaze to his.

"He must have been very proud of you."

Her lips parted for a wordless moment. "No." The denial sounded hopelessly flat to her ears. "He wasn't." Katherine bit her lip and wished suddenly that she had not spoken, for she knew immediately that he had heard the pain in her voice, pain that should not be there and certainly should not be acknowledged. "I must go," she said, lowering her gaze again.

"Why?"

"I beg your pardon?" Her fingers smoothed a wrinkle on his blanket as she scowled down at its curved course beside Travis's arm.

"Why wasn't he proud?" he asked softly. "I would be if you were my...daughter."

Her breath caught abruptly in her throat. He had planned to say something other than "daughter," she knew, and yet it truly didn't matter what term he used, for never in her life had anyone suggested she was worthy of pride. "Why?" she whispered, not looking up, but feeling his gaze like a hot ray of sunshine on her face.

"Because you're an angel."

"I'm not." She jerked her hand from his and tried to move away, but his voice stopped her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that, Kat. Don't go."

She settled back on her heels, feeling fear rise in her chest. After all she'd been through with this man, why was she afraid of him now?

"You should sleep," she said softly.

"No." He shook his head. "The dreams. Tell me a story about Catrina."

She bit her lip. "And Sir Valemeer?"

"No. Just her."

"But she's..." Katherine shrugged. "She's ever so dull without him."

His hand reached out very slowly, and, with ultimate gentleness, lifted hers from her lap. "I don't think so," he murmured.

Chapter 25

"What's that?" Katherine asked, lifting her gaze nervously from the camp fire, and letting her fork pause in midair as a furtive animal slunk past the chuck wagon.

For three days she and Travis had traveled with Blackfeather's crew. Each evening was similar to the last, with one or two of the men watching the herd while the others ate or rested. Saws was just now cleaning his cooking utensils, and Elky was carefully carving something from a chunk of wood.

"It ain't nothin'," said Finch, but Saws snorted.

Elky laughed aloud. "It's Finch's cow dog."

Saws brayed his donkey-like snort again. "Cow dog my a..." he began, but one sheepish glance at Kat's face made him change his choice of words."Cow dog, my beard! The mutt wouldn't know a cow from a cottonwood if you stood 'em end t' end. Yep, was a shrewd deal the boy pulled off that time."

From her right, Katherine thought she detected a muttered curse as Finch cleaned his teeth with his bowie knife.

"We was waitin' in Little Big Rock for the herd t' be delivered, and Finch got himself in a card game. When it turns out the other fella was short on cash, he up and bets his dog. Scraggly lookin' red hound with droopy ears and eyes sad enough t' make y' weep just t' look at him. He had him tied up, he did, and when he learns Finch was gonna be drivin' cattle, he says that sorry lookin' mutt was the best thing on four legs for herding beeves. Anyhow, Finch won, only the dog don't know spit."

Elky laughed again. "He can trail a scent like a lobo wolf, though," he said. "Cuz we can't lose him, no matter how hard we try."

"I ain't tryin' to lose him," Finch disagreed without much force. "He's a right marvel at trackin'. He could trail a bird in flight if you'd give him a whiff of a feather. Remember the time we found them droppings? You should a saw it," bragged Finch. "I just pointed to the sh—stuff and said, 'scent,' just like I was told. And sure enough, the dog tracked that ol’ bighorn just like magic."

"Only the sheep got away," added Saws. "And so did the mutt. And Finch hasn't been able to get close to him ever since."

"Well, he's a better dog than any of you boys has ever had. Best tracker in the state, I bet. Probably in the country. Hell, in the—"

"Shut up, Finch," said Saws and Elky at once.

"Anyhow, he slinks around camp sometimes," said Saws. "Don't know how he stays alive, skinny as he is."

Katherine sighed, staring into the darkness. "It sounds like Prince."

"Prince?" There were grins from several directions as the men sat quietly, awaiting an amusing explanation. Cattle drives weren't generally known for their excitement.

"When I was a girl, I..." Kat realized her mistake immediately and stopped with her mouth slightly ajar and her eyes wide. "I mean a boy! When I was a boy!"

From beside her Elky cleared his throat. But Finch was not so tactful, and giggled in glee.

"I told y'! I told y’! Didn't I?"

"I meant boy!" she gasped, jerking to her feet, but Saws shook his head and tried to subdue his grin.

"Don't fret on it, kid. We been on the trail a good while. But it ain't been so long we cain't tell the difference."

"I meant—" she sputtered.

"I knew it!" Finch yipped with a solid slap to his knee.

"You and every man with..." Elky's gaze slipped to Katherine's face before he cleared his throat again and finished, "You and everyone else."

"Well... I'm going to see if the dog is hungry."

Katherine rose abruptly, blushing to her toes, and quickly leaving the campsite.

Outside the circle of firelight, Katherine drew a deep breath and frowned. So they knew she was a woman. Apparently they'd known all along. Did that mean they also knew Travis wasn't a minister? Did they know his true identity? Were they even now planning on delivering them to Delias? Or to Red?

Her hand shook as she lifted a morsel of pork from her plate. She'd caught sight of the dog's slinking form again and hoped to coax him into trusting her, although she didn't know why. Perhaps it was just her nature. She simply wanted to be loved.

But maybe not. She stood very still, thinking.

In the past Travis had avoided her. He'd let down his guard at times, but only for fleeting moments—tiny fragments of time that left her grasping for more. It was a familiar pattern, for her father had been much the same. Almost loving her, almost accepting her at times, but finally drawing away in disapproval.

Perhaps she hadn't realized it before she'd begun telling Travis about the fictional Catrina. But Catrina had become unexpectedly like herself, and against her will, she'd told him more about her own character than she'd planned. Perhaps more than she had known herself.

It made her feel exposed and strangely suspicious of her own weaknesses.

For the first time in her life a man she loved was not running away, and it scared her.

The days passed quickly.

Though Travis's wound was healing well, his memory had not returned, and it had come to the point where Katherine couldn't tell if she should be worried or glad.

What would she do when he found out who he truly was? When he realized she had lied to him, had fictionalized his entire past?

She stood in the darkness again, listening to the silence and waiting for the dog to approach. He'd become a bit bolder and would sometimes snatch up bits of food if she threw them to him.

Thoughts of Travis made her restless, and she finally scraped the remains of her supper onto the ground and strolled thoughtfully back to the wagon.

Thunder rumbled up from the south, and a gust of wind carried voices from the camp fire in a crescendo that quickly dropped away.

She sighed, moving closer to the campsite until she rested her palm upon the hard metal rim of the wagon wheel. It felt cool and pitted beneath her hand.

"When are you going to tell her?"

"Save your disapproval for someone else, Blackfeather," came Travis's quiet response. "It's none of your concern."

Beside the wagon, Katherine leaned a bit closer to listen.

"So you're planning to leave her with Latigo?"

"You got a problem with that, too?"

"Me?" Cody sounded mildly surprised. "No. She's Lat's type. Pretty and smart. He'll like her."

There was a momentary pause.

"Shut up, Blackfeather."

"Well, you want him to like her, don't you? Since he'll have to see to her well-being after you get yourself killed."

"I should have expected such a show of confidence from a man brought up at Latigo's knee."

"I have every confidence you'll achieve what you hope to."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It's lucky you're smart enough to realize you're not good enough for her."

"You've been around Lat too long," Travis said. "It's getting so I can see right through you."

"And you've tried to be your father's son ever since Rachel. Worthless. Wasn't that the term he most often used?"

"Damn you, Blackfeather. That's got nothing to do with this."

"Then why not admit the truth?"

"The truth!" Travis snorted a burst of harsh laughter.

"Hell, that's all we need. Me admitting the truth. Condemning her to..."

"To what? Life with you? Lat might say it's not your place to make choices for her."

"Stay the hell out of it! You hear me? You don't know nothing about her."

"I'm thinking it's strange she'd waste her time saving your life. When the truth is, you didn't want it saved. You'd just as soon give it up. Especially if you might have to disprove your old man's opinion of you."

"Goddamn it! I was just a kid. I couldn't keep Rachel alive. But this is gonna be different."

"She's carried you a long time to give up now."

"You and Lat, you know how to twist the knife, don't you? You think I don't know I failed her? But I'll tell you why she's been killing herself for me, it's cuz she thinks I'm some kind of prince. Some kind of brave knight, all full of wondrous deeds and gentle thoughts, who—"

"No." Katherine stepped suddenly to the opening of the wagon. "Hardly do I think you're a prince."

"Katherine." Travis could manage no more than a whisper.

"You've been deceiving me. Playing me for a fool. Pretending you can't remember your own name." Her voice cracked, and in that moment Travis almost reached for her, but held himself back. "You must have thought this all very funny."

Ryland clenched his fists at his sides and wished he could hit something. All he'd wanted was to protect her. "I ain't laughing, lady."

"Then I commend your self-discipline," she said coldly. "But I would like to know—what was the purpose of this little charade?"

"It kept you out of trouble didn't it?" he asked, trying to loosen the tightness in his chest and look casual as he leaned against the bowed frame behind him. "You liked the little boy, didn't you? You were safe with him. Could stay close and pretend I was some..." He snorted, feeling sick as he watched her face. "Some pure preacher man. Or some poor wounded kid. Or some knight on his black charger." He was on his feet, without meaning to rise, standing before her with his heart beating hard and fast in his constricted chest. "Reins in my left hand and the Good Book in my right." He laughed grimly. "Anything was better than who I am, wasn't it?"