The Circle Eight: Caleb (14 page)

“Yes, but it takes us two miles out of the way.” She saw the horse secured to a tree up ahead. “Follow the tree line due south. They’re thick enough to hide us at night, but come daylight, we will be spotted.”

“Got it. Now let’s get you up in the saddle.”

As if she were light as a feather, he scooped her up and lifted her onto the enormous horse, placing her gently in the saddle. Shock kept her quiet as he did the same with Benjy. The boy nestled in the saddle in front of her, stiff as a board.

Caleb took hold of the gelding’s bit and led the horse through the trees, keeping the sound to a minimum. She swayed with the animal’s gait, her side protesting each time she moved to the left. Her wound throbbed harder with each passing moment. Normally a ride on horseback to her place would only take an hour and a half. At this slow walk, it would take twice that long, or more. She wished for some of that laudanum now but she had to settle for sending her mind elsewhere.

Caleb found the shallow portion of the creek and led them across safely. Then he doubled back to find the trail that led to her property. Or in his opinion, the Republic of Texas property she squatted on. When they got back, she would send the ranger and his brother on their way, never to see them again.

The advantage of helping him kidnap his brother meant he wouldn’t be concerned about kicking her off her land. In the end, she would win and he would forget he even met her. Some other faceless ranger might appear on her doorstep but it would be some time, and perhaps she could earn enough money to buy the land herself. Although without Pablo Garza, she had little chance of making enough to survive, much less pay Texas. She would never give up and never give in. The Republic had no idea who they were going up against and neither did Ranger Caleb Graham.

Benjy remained stiff in front of her, his shoulders straight as an arrow and his body as far from hers as possible without climbing over the pommel. The boy obviously didn’t want to be touched, by anyone. She tried to keep her back as straight as his, but exhaustion had her sagging. There was no help for it, he would have to endure it for as long as it took.

Her mind wandered in and out of focus, and she would swear on a Bible she saw Horatio sitting on a tree branch ten yards ahead. She knew the wound, the loss of blood, and the stress of the entire day wore on her. She could barely keep her eyes open. Several times she nodded off and Benjy’s sharp reflexes stopped her from falling on her head.

The darkness was absolute, all encompassing. She listened to the night creatures singing their nocturnal song, taunting her with the knowledge they were safe and sound in their hiding places. Her simple but sturdy bed awaited her. At some point they would make it to her house and she could lie on the straw mattress and close her eyes for much-needed sleep.

“If you fall off that horse, you’re going to need a few more bandages and I don’t feel like being your nurse anymore.” Caleb’s voice cut through her dazed state.

“You’re still an ass.”

“I never denied that, but I need you to sit up on that saddle or I’ll make you walk so I can sit up there.”

His reminder that he was walking while they rode brought a pinch of guilt. She pushed it away. He chose to take the boy and she chose to think of her own needs. However, he was right to remind her to be alert. They had snuck away from Garza’s hacienda, taking a boy who was claimed as his son. There wasn’t a chance the rich man wouldn’t follow.

“How close are we? I reckon we’re maybe five miles out, but this is your place. I’ve only seen it the one time.” Caleb looked ahead, squinting in the darkness as though her smithy would stand up and wave at him.

Rory forced herself to focus. She glanced to her right and left, then spotted the large mesquite tree she knew well. Damned if the ranger wasn’t right. This was the halfway mark between her tiny place and Garza’s.

“Five miles is about right.” Her voice was like sandpaper rubbing on her throat. It hurt to even swallow.

“Stay strong up there, Aurora. I can’t worry about both of you.”

Worried? He was worried about her? She was momentarily nonplussed, unable to even form a response that didn’t make her sound like a silly girl. Most of her life she’d been tough, unflappable and independent. She barely allowed anyone to help her, much less save her life as the ranger had done. Rory had fallen victim to her own arrogance in climbing the tree, then fate had taken over from there. Her thoughts about the ranger had taken a strange turn, one she was unfamiliar with. It made her jittery and out of control, two emotions she did not welcome.

“You worry about your own ass, Ranger. I’ll worry about mine.”

To her surprise, he chuckled. “Damn but you are a constant surprise. I’m used to outspoken females, but you?” He snorted. “You put them to shame.”

She didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted so she chose to ignore him instead. The silence between them was invaded again by the sounds of the night. They pushed on, each minute more uncomfortable than the last. She gritted her teeth and held her stomach as tight as she dared.

When they passed the pin oak at the edge of her property, she let loose a noise that was a cross between a sob and a hoot. They were almost there. Almost.

“Five minutes,” she managed to say through clenched teeth.

“Good. I don’t think you’re going to last much longer.”

It was her turn to laugh, more of a squeak. “I gave up an hour ago. It’s sheer stubbornness keeping me up here.”

Caleb led the horse up to the tiny house and secured him to the hitching post. He plucked Benjy off and set him on the ground. He bent down and whispered to the boy, who scampered into the dark house like a rabbit. Soon a warm glow emanated from the windows. Home.

The ranger turned back to her and held up his arms. “Do you trust me?”

She didn’t know how to answer or if she were honest with herself, whether she wanted to answer. “Why?”

“Let me get you down and into the house. You need to get cleaned up before we leave. I’ll give you some time to pack a few things too. Do you have a horse?” His words came at her like bullets.

She managed to sort through them all. “Leave? What do you mean leave?”

He didn’t respond but he did pull her off the saddle. She couldn’t help the moan that crept up her throat. Her body screamed with discomfort and soreness.

“You’d best answer me, Ranger, before I make you regret picking me off that horse.” She sounded weak as a kitten and it annoyed her.

“You can’t stay here, Rory.” His tone was gentle as was his touch. “Garza will know you helped me, will blame you for Benjy leaving. He doesn’t seem like the type to forgive or forget.”

“This is my home. I’m not leaving.” She could hardly focus on the door as he walked through sideways with her in his arms.

“You can’t even piss by yourself right now.” He didn’t sound mean but his words hurt just the same. “Let me take care of you. Trust me.”

“I don’t need a man.” She saw her bed, the sight she had been praying for through their night escape. Within moments, he laid her on the mattress and she sighed in relief. Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she remembered the last time she’d been in the bed and her life had been so very different.

“What you need is a short nap. Go to sleep, Aurora. Trust me.” His face hovered above hers.

She lifted up her hand and touched his whiskered cheek. “Your eyes are too pretty for a man.”

He grinned and kissed her palm. “Sleep.”

She wanted to tell him that she didn’t take orders but she couldn’t fight sleep. It swept over her in seconds, taking her into darkness where there were no dangers to avoid. She gave herself over and hoped when she woke it would have all been a nightmare.

Chapter Six

Caleb did not want to undress Rory for a second time. Well, he did, but not because she was unconscious and bleeding again. What a strange twenty-four hours he’d spent in this woman’s company. His life had been turned upside down in that time, all because of a blacksmith named Aurora Foster.

She lay there, pale as milk, yet still strong as steel. He’d meant it when he told her she had grit. Many men wouldn’t have been able to survive, much less put forth the physical effort she had. Now she was exhausted and in need of some care. He could only let her rest for an hour at most and even that was pushing their luck. If Garza wasn’t on their trail already, he would be very soon.

Yet he had to tend to her wound and let her body heal for a short time. Benjy stood in the corner watching them, still silent but not missing a thing. Caleb walked over to him and spoke softly into his ear.

“I need you to get some water boiling. I’ll have to clean Rory’s wound before we dress it up again.” He nodded to the stove. “I’ll get the fire going, you get the water.”

To his surprise, Benjy saluted him. A rusty chuckle burst from Caleb’s throat. The boy was a bit of a pain in the ass like his older siblings. That was good. Caleb was afraid he would be a ghost of his former self, the smiling, laughing little scamp who loved caterpillars and lizards.

Caleb watched his brother grab the bucket sitting by the door and head outside into the dark, more than likely with no idea where the well was or what direction to head. The boy had heart and courage.

The fire wouldn’t light itself and there was no time to sit and contemplate stupid shit. He got a blaze going in no time, thankful she had dry wood in the basket in the corner. Although he felt strange doing it, he looked through her meager possessions. There were a few shirts and another pair of trousers.

A careful search of the small house yielded matches, a few cans each of peaches and beans, a hairbrush with a tarnished silver back, a bar of soap and three washrags. Setting aside a washrag and a shirt, he put everything else in a traveling bag and set it by the door. Benjy stepped back in with a full bucket of water.

“Good job.” Caleb took the bucket from him before it broke his arm. The boy was skinny as a rail but that was common for Graham boys. Once they hit fourteen, they all filled out and grew tall and wide. It would happen for Benjy too.

While the water heated, he walked over to the simple cot and sat on the edge. Dark smudges marked the skin beneath her eyes. Her short hair was in disarray, sticking every which way. He took her hand, clammy and warm. Not hot yet, but he was afraid a fever might follow given the rough night she’d had.

He unbuttoned the borrowed shirt enough to reveal the bandages, which were an angry dark red. She’d bled more than he expected. Damn. He’d need fresh bandages and the sheet would have to be the sacrifice. She could yell at him later.

Caleb didn’t have supplies for new stiches so he hoped bandages would be enough. As he unwound the bandage, her eyes fluttered open. Those amber orbs regarded him with confusion and then she smiled.

“I love it when you wake me with a kiss.”

Caleb felt like he’d been kicked in the balls. “Pardon?”

“You are such a good husband. Mother was wrong. There are men just as wonderful as Papa.” She closed her eyes again, leaving him gaping like a fish.

She’d mistaken him for her husband. Apparently she’d loved him a great deal, and still did even after death. Caleb told himself he didn’t care. She was out of her head and wouldn’t even remember what she said. It didn’t bother him a bit. Not at all.

The water began to boil and he jumped up to get the supplies he needed to clean her up. He sure as hell was not running away from an unconscious woman because she thought he was her husband.

He used the bucket dipper to put hot water into the wash basin and put the clean washrag in the water, carrying the soap and basin back to the bed. After setting it carefully on the floor, he used his gentlest touch to clean the blood from her skin, stopping frequently to rinse the washrag. Benjy sat cross-legged on the floor, watching with wide eyes.

“Toss this out the door and get me fresh water.” Caleb waited while Benjy did as he bade. His hands cramped from keeping them steady so he tried to flex the discomfort away, but only ended up making it worse.

Benjy set the basin on the floor as carefully as if it were made of eggshells. He stepped back and wiped his hands on his trousers, then plopped back down on the floor.

“Did you see another horse?”

Benjy shook his head then stuck two fingers above his head and pushed out his teeth.

“A mule? Is there a saddle and tack for it?”

This time a nod from the boy.

“Well hell. Beggars can’t be choosers, eh?”

At least they would have two beasts to ride, even if one of them wasn’t going to be particularly fast. It was better than walking, but not by much.

He focused on getting her cleaned up and not on the fact the lady blacksmith owned a mule that she apparently rode. Just another odd thing about an odd female.

By the time he had finished the chore of ridding her of the blood, he was pleased to note there was no fresh blood from the wound. The crawling, running and riding must have been the culprit. A fresh bandage, a nap and the mule might be enough to keep it from opening up again.

He took the sheet and tore it in to bandages that would fit her small frame, leaving a few thick pieces to fold over the actual wound. The doctor’s stitches were impeccable, tight and even. There might hardly be a scar. Too bad the healer lived in the pocket of a man who would buy a kidnapped child. Bastard.