Читать книгу The Reluctant Outlaw - Karen Kirst - Страница 11

Bone-weary from passing the night drifting in and out of sleep, Evan was in no mood to argue. So he clamped his mouth shut and continued down the path.

Contrary woman! He could only imagine how she was going to react when he told her the bad news—that she wasn’t going home today or any day soon. His mind was made up, though. She could get angry, cry or throw a fit. Didn’t matter. She would not sway his decision.

Leaving the cool shade behind, he stepped out into the bright sunshine. A wide ribbon of shimmering green meandered through the clearing, the sound of rushing water filling his ears. While not deep enough to bathe in, the stream was adequate for a quick wash.

He glanced back at Miss O’Malley, his eyes drawn to her sleek red hair glinting in the sun. Then he caught sight of her discolored cheek and winced.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his bandanna. He rinsed the black material in the cool water, wrung out the excess and folded it in a neat square.

He went to stand before her and, lifting the compress, lightly placed it against her cheek. For a moment she didn’t blink. He lost himself in her impossibly green eyes. There was a flash of apprehension which she quickly masked. That he’d caused her unease made him feel ill. He pressed the compress into her hand and stepped back abruptly. Of course she would be wary of him. He was her kidnapper, after all.

“Keep that on for a few minutes,” he murmured. “It probably won’t help much with the swelling, but the cold will feel good. As soon as we get washed up, I’ll make you a poultice.”

His concern for her, a stranger whose name he hadn’t bothered to ask until a minute ago, was a foreign emotion. He’d been consumed with his own needs for so long—his desire for revenge and his well-thought-out plans to get it.

Evan felt ashamed. Selfish. Hard-hearted. Almost like an entirely different person than he’d been before his brother’s murder. His cousin certainly had tried to convince him to let the authorities handle it, had warned Evan of the hazards of settling old scores.

The faith he’d grown up with and cultivated as an adult—the same faith he’d considered the foundation of his existence—had splintered beneath him in the space of a day. He’d fallen into an abyss of suspicion and inner turmoil.

“How long will it take to get back to town?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Evan weighed his words carefully. “We’re not going to Gatlinburg. I’ve decided it’s too risky to take you back there. For now, anyway.”

“I don’t understand.” Although her voice remained calm, he sensed the brewing storm.

“I’d planned to take you straight home to your family, but since the men know about you … we can’t risk it. I figure the safest spot for you right now is my place—”

The hand holding the compress against her cheek went limp, and she looked at him in horror. “Your place? The home of a thief and kidnapper? No! I am not sleeping one night under your roof!”

Goodness, but she was stunning when riled up. A faint blush stained her cheeks, her pink mouth puckered in disapproval and graceful hands propped on her slim hips. She looked eager for a fight.

“You’ll be safe there. That’s what matters.”

“Safe?” Her expression turned disbelieving. “With the man who held a gun on me, forced me from my family and is currently planning to whisk me away to parts unknown?”

“Why don’t you calm down so we can discuss this rationally?”

“When it comes to my freedom, I don’t feel particularly rational!”

“I brought you here. It’s my duty to get you home safe and sound—”

“Oh, I see …” she scoffed. “You’ve got it all planned out. The triumphant return! You deliver me to my front doorstep and my family will fall to their knees in gratitude—a true hero.”

“I’m no one’s hero,” he shot back. “Remember that.”

Bitter regret rose in his throat like bile. He’d failed to protect his only brother—tried and failed.

He lowered his voice. “The men go into town once or twice a week for supplies. With your flame-colored hair, you might as well wear a sign around your neck. If I take you back now, I’d be risking your life and mine.”

“I’m not the only redhead in town, you know.”

“Gatlinburg isn’t exactly a big town.” He paused, trying to think of a way to make her see reason. “What about your sisters?”

She stilled. “What about them?”

“Suppose one of the men—let’s say Fitzgerald—spotted you in town and followed you home. You wouldn’t be the only one in danger.”

She looked away, evenly spaced white teeth worrying her lower lip. He could see that she was torn. At last, she crossed her arms. She didn’t appear pleased with the change in plans.

“Do you realize the anguish my mother must be feeling right now? And my sisters? I’m the oldest. They depend on me.”

“You haven’t mentioned your father.”

Her eyes darkened. “He died four years ago of a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry.” Evan understood the pain of losing a parent. “We can send a telegram from Cades Cove, let them know you’re safe and will be home soon.”

She closed her eyes, distress twisting her lovely features. “This is a nightmare.”

“A nightmare that will soon be over.”

Resigned, she sighed. “What do you have in mind?”

“We’ll pass by Gatlinburg and make our way to Cades Cove. My farm is there. We can make the trip in about three days if the weather holds. You’ll have the place to yourself while I ride back to the hideout and convince the men I got rid of you. They’ll be heading out in a week or so. Then I’ll come back for you and escort you home.”

“Why would you do that? Why go to so much trouble on my behalf when you’re partly responsible for my kidnapping?”

He deserved that. “That’s right. I’m responsible.” He jammed a thumb in his chest. “As I said before, I got you into this mess and I intend to get you out of it.”

“Something’s not right.” She studied him, a speculative gleam in her eye. “Little details about you that don’t quite add up.”

Intrigued, he crossed his arms and waited. “Such as?”

“Well, for starters, you talk funny.”

He hadn’t expected that. “Excuse me?”

“No, no, that’s not the right word.” She began to pace, and he could practically see the wheels in her brain whirling. She snapped her fingers. “Educated! That’s it! You don’t use foul language. And you don’t speak as if you were raised in a saloon, as one would expect from a common criminal.”

“And you’re acquainted with common criminals, I take it?”

“Thanks to you, I am now.”

“Yes, that’s unfortunate. I apologize.”

“There.” She pointed a finger at him. “That’s the other thing. You shouldn’t be apologizing to me.”

“I shouldn’t?” This woman was beginning to confuse him.

“You treat me as if I have value. Those other men …” She shuddered. “What I mean to say is that, for the most part, you’ve treated me with respect. A truly hardened criminal would’ve done as those men suggested and gotten rid of me.”

“Wait just a minute—”

“Shh! Don’t try to distract me. There’s one more thing, and it’s a doozy.”

A no-nonsense expression stole across her face and, straightening to her full height, she focused her entire attention on him. He felt like a witness under cross-examination.

“Well? What is it?”

“Money.”

“What about it?”

“Where is the money you risked your life and mine for? You walked out of that cabin without a moment’s hesitation. Have you even given it a second thought?”

“I’ve been kinda busy plotting our next move.”

“Exactly.”

Uncomfortable with her astute observations, he sought to distract her. “Is that all, Irish?”

“Yes, that’s all.” Her eyes narrowed. “What did you call me?”

“Fits, doesn’t it? Or would you prefer Red?”

“Absolutely not!”

“I suppose I could try to guess your name,” Evan made a show of studying her, and he gained much satisfaction at seeing her squirm. “How about Matilda?”

Her finely arched eyebrows shot up. “You think I look like a Matilda?”

“Hmm … no, that’s not quite right, is it?” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I know. Bertha.”

“Bertha?”

“That’s not it, either, huh? Okay, a Bible name. Rachel. I like that one.”

“Me, too, but it’s not mine.”

“Can you give me a hint? Tell me what letter it starts with?”

She bit her lip, and he could tell that she was beginning to find some humor in the conversation. A thrill shot through him. Trying to make her smile could become addictive.

“That would make it too easy. Besides, you don’t deserve the help.”

“In the meantime, then, I’ll stick with Irish.”

“What? That’s not a proper name!”

“It’s yours until you decide to quit being stubborn.” He shrugged, tossing her a washcloth. “See those trees over there? I’ll be right on the other side washing up while you do the same here. You’ll have plenty of privacy, but if you need anything just call out.”

Juliana watched him stride away, her eyes fixed on his broad back. She noted the way the smooth material stretched across his powerful shoulders and biceps. A wall of solid muscle, he moved with purpose and confidence. On the outside, he was every girl’s dream.

A pity he spent his days terrorizing innocents and taking what didn’t belong to him.

His horse moved into her line of vision, his majestic black head low to the ground as he nibbled a clump of red clover. He was a fine specimen. Glossy coat, firm flesh, strong legs. Probably a fast runner …

Juliana clapped a hand over her mouth. Lifting his head, Lucky stared at her blankly for a second or two before resuming his snacking. No … she couldn’t. Or could she?

She spoke in low, soothing tones as she approached the animal and tried to convey an air of calm she didn’t feel. What would Evan Harrison do if he came back and caught her trying to steal his horse?

“You’re a fine-lookin’ boy, aren’t you?” she crooned softly, taking hold of his studded bridle and rubbing her palm down his side. He was already used to her scent, and he seemed to welcome the attention. “Would you care to give me a ride somewhere, Lucky?”

She’d have to ride bareback, since she wasn’t strong enough to lift the saddle with all the gear attached to it. While she preferred a saddle, riding without one was doable. If Lucky would let her, that is.

“I have to try, right, boy?” She continued to rub his soft coat, her heart thumping in her chest. “I need my freedom.” She laid her forehead against his neck. “Will you help me?”

Juliana searched the woods where Evan had disappeared. Nothing. Now was her chance. She prayed Lucky wouldn’t throw her.

Still speaking soft words of encouragement, she led him to a fallen log, where she stepped up, grabbed hold and vaulted up and onto his back. Half lying on her stomach, she scooted closer to his neck, her inner thighs pressing into his sides for balance. She signaled for him to move out.

The big black obeyed without a moment’s hesitation. She glanced over her shoulder and again saw no sign of Evan. She was sweating—not from exertion but from sheer nerves. Her stomach, already upset, was now a hard knot. Her hands shook.

As she got farther from the campsite, however, Juliana felt like shouting for joy. Freedom was in her sights. God had surely presented her with this chance at escape.

The going would be tough, no doubt. She had no supplies of any kind. Her cousins, she thanked God, had taught her many skills that would help her find food and shelter. The only problem, in her mind, was figuring out which direction to go. But even if she couldn’t get all the way back to Gatlinburg, she figured she’d come across a town eventually where she could get help.

She took note of the sun’s position and rode in the opposite direction. They’d been traveling east, so it made sense that home was to the west.

“Mr. Evan Harrison is in for one big surprise.” She grinned, ignoring the nudge of conscience. He’s strong and healthy, she reasoned. Wouldn’t hurt him a bit to hike to civilization.

What she would do with the horse once she got home, she hadn’t a clue. She couldn’t keep him—he didn’t belong to her. She couldn’t very well return him, either. Evan knew she lived in or near Gatlinburg, and it wouldn’t be difficult for him to find her. Although her time with him had been brief, she had a gut feeling that he would come looking for what was rightfully his. The thought of meeting him face-to-face at this point unnerved Juliana.

Pushing that disturbing thought away, she focused on her surroundings. She couldn’t afford to daydream. Not only did she need to keep Lucky headed in the right direction, she also had to keep a lookout for snakes or wild boars that might spook him.

She was vulnerable out here alone, she knew. If only she had a weapon.

I will never leave you, nor forsake you. The words from the book of Joshua reassured her. I know, Father, and I thank You for reminding me.

After a mile or so of the beautiful yet monotonous terrain—wide-spaced hickory, spruce and sugar maple trees—her thoughts strayed again to Evan Harrison and his concerns about Lenny Fitzgerald and the others. He didn’t have her completely convinced of the danger. If they only planned to be in the vicinity for a week or two, all she had to do was stay home and not venture into town.

And of course she planned to give Sheriff Timmons a detailed description of Lenny Fitzgerald. Wanted posters would go up all over town. That should send the criminal running in the opposite direction!

But what about Mr. Harrison? Would she give a description of him, too? William Timmons would want the man who’d kidnapped Juliana. In the sheriff’s eyes, she realized, tracking down Evan Harrison would take precedence over capturing any of the others.

Juliana wanted justice. Evan deserved to be punished for what he’d done, of course, but somehow she couldn’t place him on the same level as those other men. There was something different about him … she just couldn’t put her finger on what that something was.

She had a knack for puzzles, though. It might take a while, but she was confident she’d figure it out sooner or later.

Evan dried his face and neck and wondered if Miss O’Malley was finished. He’d decided on a whim to give her some privacy. She’d already endured enough on account of him, and to be honest, she was handling the situation with unusual grace. It wouldn’t kill him to show her a little kindness.

Deciding he’d been gone long enough, he ambled back toward camp. The weather was fine for travel, he noted with relief. Not a cloud to be seen in the pale blue sky. The temperature was climbing—it would be a scorcher—so they would stick to the forest as long as possible. He hoped they made good time. The sooner this whole mess was behind him the better.

When he emerged from the trees into the clearing, it didn’t at first register that anything was amiss. A few seconds was all it took for him to realize his grave error.

He stood there slack-jawed for the space of a full minute.

She was gone. Gone! And so was his horse!

“Why that—” He clamped his mouth shut. He’d learned his childhood lessons well, and his mother had taught him not to disrespect women. Still … the woman had stolen his horse!

What did she expect him to do? Walk to Cades Cove?

He let out a low growl. Who did she think she was? Didn’t she know the punishment for stealing a horse was a hangman’s noose?

He set about packing his gear, only what he couldn’t live without. His eyes fell on the saddle. She was riding his horse bareback? How had she managed to mount him?

She couldn’t have gotten far, he reasoned. Irritation warred with concern. This was mostly uninhabited country—no place for a woman alone. How did she plan to feed herself? He checked the canteens. They were all there, which meant that she was traveling without water. In the height of summer. In the heat of the day. Great. He kicked a tin cup and it arced through the air. Just great.

He’d promised to return her home safe. It was his attempt at righting a wrong. If he failed at this, it would be like losing James all over again. Maybe worse.