Читать книгу Luke's Runaway Bride - Kate Bridges, Kate Bridges - Страница 8

“What do you mean, I’m going with you?” Jenny panted. Prickles of terror raced up her spine. Who the hell was this man and what did he intend to do with her? He swayed above her, breathing hard, his damp shirt plastered to the black hair on his powerful chest, a six-shooter pointed straight at her. What chance did she have?

Beneath her hot velvet gown, sweat beaded between her breasts. She’d never let him take her without a fight. Inch by inch, she leaned back against the desk and secretly stretched her fingertips toward the whiskey decanter. If she could reach it, she’d fling it in his face. Better yet, in his wound.

His cool gray eyes glinted, as cold as gunmetal in a snowstorm. His expression was a mask of granite. “I’m taking you to Wyoming.”

The muscles in her face sank. “Why?”

His pale lips thinned. “Because it’s the only way Daniel’s going to listen to what I have to say.”

She doubted he was any friend of Daniel’s. At heart, he was just a criminal who’d stolen ten thousand dollars. When Daniel got ahold of him, he’d see to it the man paid for his crime. “Where in Wyoming are you headed?”

“Daniel will know where.”

Her jaw stiffened. “I’m not going with you.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

She stretched her arm to the point of pain until her fingers grazed cool glass. She swallowed, gripped the bottleneck hard and swung it. A river of gold liquid spewed onto his chest. Bull’s-eye.

Luke sprang back and yelped, clawing at his shirt. She winced, but before he could recover, she stretched for the rock on the other side of the desk and flung it, too. He glanced up in the nick of time and, cursing her, reared out of its path before the rock could whack him on the chest. It thudded on his boot.

His mouth twisted. “Dammit, woman!”

She dashed toward the door, but a firm hand gripped the back of her dress. Strong fingers dug into her bare shoulder. He yanked her closer and she gasped when she met his blazing eyes. A swath of wavy hair fell across his forehead. His temples glistened with sweat. All she smelled was whiskey. Dear God, what would he do to her?

His face was flushed a deep ruby, but he kept his grip steady on the gun. With each tick-tock of Daniel’s silver clock on the desk, her stomach quivered.

Then, with an unexpected heave, Luke tossed her away, unharmed. Dabbing at his shirt with a towel, he growled. So maybe he wouldn’t hurt her. Her mind reeled, searching for another escape.

The faint sound of footsteps came from the hallway. Their startled gazes collided. Olivia.

Luke dove at Jenny and cupped a hand to her mouth. She shrank back, dodged his callused palm and bit down on a finger. Hard.

“Ahhh!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to his chest, crushing her breasts against him.

For one breathless moment they were close enough to kiss.

The shocking thought sent a current racing down her thighs. He wouldn’t dare!

Emotions battled across his face. He looked like a man trapped by something he wanted to explain.

He inclined his dark head and she gasped. Would he kiss her? No…once again he slid a hot, firm hand over her lips, stifling her protest.

She stilled under the pressure. His hand carried the scent of fresh air and grass. He splayed his other hand against her bare shoulder blades and heat seeped into her skin.

He was a barbarian. A criminal.

Wasn’t he?

With her soft curves flattened against his firm chest, she felt his heart drumming in unison with her own. Daniel’s touch never affected her like this. Daniel’s arms felt secure and comfortable. Luke’s touch was anything but. How dare he!

She somehow found the courage to pound on his wounded ribs. He staggered at the light blow and she tumbled back.

His breath tore out of him in a painful gasp.

The doorknob creaked.

“Keep still,” he whispered, raising his gun, “and you won’t get hurt.”

She stiffened. What sort of monster was he?

Olivia hummed as she stepped through the doorway, tray in hand, laden with buns, scones and jerky. Her billowing gown rustled. “Here we are, with plenty to eat….” She glanced up and her voice trailed off. Jenny met her terrified gaze with her own.

The tray toppled to the floor. Buns rolled in all directions. “I knew it was the third thing, I knew it!” Olivia bellowed, wailing as if she were being scalped. She grabbed her skirts and ran.

Luke cocked the hammer of his gun with a loud click. Olivia stopped cold. When she slowly turned around, the women stared numbly at each other. Jenny frowned fiercely, desperately wishing her friend, at least, might escape. Her breathing was harsh and rapid.

“Keep quiet,” he said, “or I’ll…shoot the both of you.”

Trembling, Jenny stepped closer to Olivia. She shot him a hostile glare. “I’ll never help a stranger again.”

Luke pushed a hand through his hair and glared at her in exasperation. “Yes, you will. You can’t help it.” He struggled to catch his breath. “Woman, you tire me out.”

She stood her ground.

Finally, he tilted his rugged face toward Olivia. “Do you have a husband, ma’am?”

Scowling, Olivia shrugged a shoulder. “No.”

Jenny stepped forward. “What’s that got to do—”

He raised his palm in the air and silenced her. “Just answer the question. Who do you live with?”

The worry lines around Olivia’s eyes sharpened. “Jenny and her father.”

Slowly, his gaze traveled to Jenny, and another qualm of fear shuddered through her. “Well, that’s good,” he said. “No one’s going to miss you then. It’ll seem natural Jenny took you with her on her trip.”

Olivia slumped against her. A cold shiver whispered over Jenny. “You intend on taking us both?”

He nodded. “You can each be leverage for the other.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, leverage?”

“You’ll see soon enough. If you do as I ask, without fighting back, then you’ll return to Denver with no harm done. If you fight me, it’ll take longer, but you’ll still lose, and you’ll get bruised along the way.”

He pointed his gun toward the heavy drapes. “Now, Olivia—ma’am—pack up the food you just brought in. We’ll put it in my saddlebag. Jenny, you find us some notepaper. We need to leave a message.”

With skirts swishing, Olivia did as she was told. As she crouched beside the desk, reaching for the fallen jerky, she peeped up at the stranger.

Jenny watched her friend scamper to do his bidding, and humiliation seeped into her. She scooped her shawl off the floor and stepped in front of Olivia. “If it’s Daniel you’re after, why don’t you take me and let Olivia go?”

Luke focused his intense gaze on Jenny. “You’d trade your life for your friend’s?”

She shuddered. “You plan on killing me?”

“No. I didn’t mean it like that.” His forehead creased in furrows, as if he were disgusted with the thought, and in an inexplicable way, Jenny believed him. She’d attacked him with whiskey, thrown a rock at him, even bitten him, but he hadn’t hit her back. She knew many men would.

She flung her shawl over her shoulders, fidgeting with the colorful feathers. Maybe he planned on getting even later, on the road. Her throat tightened. She took an abrupt step forward, smoothing the velvet at her sides. “Leave Olivia out of this. Please,” she added, staring up at his stubborn face, shivering at the memory of his touch. This was what Daniel got in return for his help all those years ago? Daniel’s family had helped this man get back on his feet, and in gratitude, he threatened Daniel’s fiancée?

Luke inclined his windburned face. “She must mean an awful lot to you.”

Her hopes rose as she stared at his stubborn features. Perhaps he had a heart, one she could appeal to. “Olivia’s been with me since I was a baby. We grew up together and I consider her a sister. She’s the only family I have in Denver, besides Father.” Her brothers were joining them in the spring, but if the four of them were here now, they’d pound the living daylights out of him. Rightly so. He deserved a wicked beating.

Luke’s eyes flickered. He looked her up and down, and she felt herself flush. “I hope Daniel appreciates your loyalty.”

She blinked. What did he have against Daniel?

“Keep packing,” Luke snarled to Olivia. With maddening arrogance, he turned to Jenny. “I appreciate how you feel toward your friend here, but I can’t take the chance.”

“What chance?”

“The chance that she’ll tell everyone in town I took you at gunpoint. Daniel’s more likely to follow us alone, without the law, if I keep this quiet for him.”

She glared at him. “The whole town will know, anyway. It’ll be Daniel himself who’ll tell them.”

“Oh, no, he won’t.”

Jenny squirmed. “Of course he will. He’ll get the sheriff and they’ll get a posse together. And,” she added with a hot twinge of delight, “they’ll string you up from the nearest tree.”

His gaze was calm and cool, but a twitch of amusement pulled at his mouth. “I know you’d be in the front row to watch. But believe me, Daniel won’t tell a soul.”

She swayed back and gripped the desk behind her, more uncertain than ever. “Then…then my father will.”

“No,” he said, pulling his vest off the chair and sliding his muscled arms into it, “your father will go along with whatever twisted explanation Daniel gives him of your disappearance. I don’t rightly care, as long as Daniel comes to get you.” He moaned with obvious pain, and Lord forgive her, she prayed his pain would double. Then maybe they could escape.

But he seemed so sure of what he said, and this confidence, this audacity, bewildered her. “Why?”

He swung the gun toward her. “You ask too many questions. Now pull out a paper and write Daniel a note.”

She stomped behind the desk. Pulling the top drawer open, she rifled through it. “I suppose you have your story all made up. What lies do you want me to write?”

“Write the truth.”

Her gaze swung to his in surprise. She watched him calmly toss his jacket over his broad shoulders. Why was he doing this?

Money, of course, she told herself with repulsion. He wanted money for their return. That’s why he was kidnapping them. That’s what he’d taken at Daniel’s office today. He didn’t have a money bag with him, she noticed with a frown, but he’d had plenty of time to stash one.

Plopping into the chair behind the desk, Jenny dipped the quill into the inkwell and began writing, mortified at her thoughts…about their heated embrace earlier, her curiosity about being kissed. She wasn’t to blame. He’d attacked her. She thrust out her chin.

“My dearest Daniel,

A man who claims to be your friend, Luke McLintock, is holding a gun to my head—the same man who tried to rob you this afternoon. He says he’s taking me to Wyoming, along with Olivia, says you’ll know where to find us. Please find us quickly, Daniel, and if something should happen…”

She paused, then wrote “know how much I love you.”

Guilt slithered up her spine. It was the first time either one of them had mentioned the word love. And she’d done it only at gunpoint. It didn’t matter, she rationalized; these were tragic circumstances.

She blamed this cowardly man for turning her mind upside down. Well, he wouldn’t get away with it. Daniel, together with her father, would send every available man and bounty hunter after them.

“All right.” He yanked her off the chair with a muscled grip. “Let’s go.”

She’d try to stall him. Daniel and the others might already be searching. “What about my dress?”

“What about it?” His grip felt like iron. He lowered his gaze to the velvet gown, reminding her how bare her shoulders were, how much the bodice gaped without its button.

“We can’t travel in these clothes. They’re uncomfortable. We’d like to change.”

His gaze traveled to Olivia. Her poor friend stood trembling in her burgundy satin. He eyed Jenny with suspicion. “Do you have extra clothes here?”

“Well, no. But my house is only five streets over.”

He snorted. “Nice try. Forget it.”

“At least let me get needle and thread for my button. Daniel’s butler keeps a sewing basket in the kitchen.”

“I haven’t known you for very long,” he said, humor tugging at his lips, “but I do know one thing.” He raised a black brow and his charcoal eyes flashed, evoking another flash of fury. “If you do locate a needle, it’ll only wind up stuck in my eye.” His gaze skimmed her gaping dress. “I’m not letting you look for a needle. Your missing button doesn’t bother me.”

She felt her face blaze. She yanked her shawl around her.

His eyes grew wide with amusement. “As a matter of fact,” he added, “hand over the pin that’s in it.”

She gasped at the outrageous request. “No gentleman would ask such a thing of a lady.”

“I don’t rightly care.” He raised his gun. “Now hand it over. Nicely.”

Men out West certainly weren’t the same as the men in Boston! In Boston they had manners, they said please and thank you and they never looked directly at your…your bosoms! Jenny felt her nostrils flare as she groped for the pin.

“Drop it,” he commanded.

It pinged off the floorboards.

As they walked out the door, the two women in front, Luke grabbed a hunk of bread from Olivia’s sack. He ripped at it with his teeth, like a hungry tiger chewing on flesh. The man was truly an animal.

God, he couldn’t be a friend of Daniel’s.

A quarter moon lit the deserted street and houses. Orange leaves swirled at their feet. Huddling together, the women walked ahead of Luke and his horse. Where were they going? Jenny squeezed Olivia’s trembling arm.

Trains hissed in the railway yard behind the far trees. They were headed in that direction. Good. Jenny breathed faster, gulping down the scents of damp earth and oil. They d be more visible on a train than by horse. Other passengers might come to their aid.

Their captor directed them around some tall pines. A number of railway cars sat in the station. As a result of the derailment, the trains headed south had no place to go. But her father had told her the trains headed north to Wyoming or east to Omaha were still running on time. This brute had obviously timed his departure well, for the Wyoming train was whistling, as if waiting for them.

In the distance, above the rumble of the steam engine and the clatter of baggage being loaded, she heard the conductor call, “Thirty minutes to departure.”

They approached the train from the shadows. Glancing down the line of cars toward the platform, past the trunks and crates of vegetables, Jenny spotted a crowd. Capes and bonnets, walking canes and cowboy hats. Her muscles tightened with hope. Did she recognize any faces? They weren’t in anyone’s line of vision yet, but another fifty yards and she’d yell out to them.

She dodged a puddle. The train hissed and she jumped back in alarm.

A gun dug into Jenny’s back and she was forced to keep walking. So help her, the first chance she got, she’d hold a gun to his head and let him know how it felt.

They passed an open boxcar stamped Union Pacific, and a short, blond man stepped out from the shadows. “Boss?”

Oh, no, thought Jenny, Luke knew him. The lithe stranger, who had a wide, flat nose and muttonchop sideburns, guided Luke’s horse up a makeshift ramp. He glanced at them. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t ask, Tom, I’ll explain later. I didn’t get to Daniel, but I’ve got his woman and her friend. Forget about the tickets—we’ll have to stay with the horses and women. We’ll split them up. You take this one,” he said, tossing a shocked Olivia into the man’s arms. “The blonde comes with me.”

Panic welled in Jenny’s throat. She staggered back and screamed, as loudly as she could, at precisely the same time as the steam engine blew its whistle.

No one heard her except Luke. Her cries were muffled as he threw her into the car behind his horse. Her gown twisted up around her thighs, and her feathered shawl dropped to the tracks. Luke dove in on top of her, squashing her between the solid wooden floor and his hard muscled body. Her chest felt like it would burst.

Never in all her life had she been so mistreated, had she wished a fellow human being harm.

Before she had time to blink, he rolled off her and slid the rickety door closed behind them. Seized with dread, she watched his lean profile melt into a swirl of blackness.

Good Lord, what would he do next?

In the cool, quiet hours near midnight, Luke stared into the darkness. Now he had to face up to what he’d done.

With a mean-awful pounding in his ribs, he dragged himself to his feet. The railcar bounced and swayed beneath him. The cramp in his calf squeezed tighter and he shook it out. He’d been lying so long in one position, pinning Jenny down so she couldn’t bolt and spook the horses, that his muscles needed release.

Sighing, he sought out her curvy shape on the straw. She wore the jacket he’d given her for the cool night, and she was breathing steady in a deep sleep. Fighting him at first, she’d finally simmered when he threatened to harm her friend. Empty threats, but they’d worked.

Luke’s bay whinnied. Another horse, belonging to another passenger, stirred beside him. Tugging the scarred door open, Luke gazed up at purple sky and twinkling stars. A branch scraped along the train’s side and he ducked his leg to avoid it. Judging by the silhouette of mountains, they were close to the territory border, had maybe even crossed it. By early morning, they’d reach Cheyenne. The next train from Denver was tomorrow, and he expected Daniel to be on it.

Thank God, Maria had told Luke the truth before she’d died. She’d lived in the boardinghouse, accepting the measly dollars Daniel sent her monthly—just enough to keep her mouth shut about the paternity of the boy, to keep her hovering above poverty.

For five years, as Maria worked the lunch hours, she’d kept the boy by her side. Luke had shooed Adam out of the way at every opportunity, never spending more than five minutes with him. Hadn’t he even told Maria to try to keep Adam hidden? That having the boy around wasn’t good for business? Luke burned with shame. After Maria’s death, he’d taken a hard look at himself and realized he’d treated his horse better than he had the kid.

Sure, in the end, when she’d suffered that horrible sore throat from diphtheria, Luke had stepped in, taking Adam to his friends’ ranch to protect the boy from getting sick. But that hadn’t worked so well, either, had it? She’d died so soon, the boy hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye. Luke knew what that felt like. A hole that never got filled.

Hadn’t he missed the opportunity to say goodbye to his old man? He’d heard the applause from the hanging, though. He’d been sitting on the bench behind the courthouse beside his brothers, all spiffed up, their mother in her worn-out Sunday dress, begging the judge to release their pa.

Looking back on it now, he knew the hanging was inevitable. Cattle rustling, a shoot-out with the sheriff, one dead deputy… But as a sparkly eyed six-year-old kid, with two optimistic brothers and a frantically hopeful mother, they thought the judge would show leniency.

None of them had said goodbye.

Luke sighed, bone-tired of it all. Daniel’s family had taken him in, saying they could use the extra hand on such a big ranch, with only one child of their own to help. For the first few years, he and Daniel were the best of friends. But as soon as Daniel’s friends—especially the young women—started paying Luke attention, and Luke’s abilities with horses and guns outstripped Daniel’s, a rivalry grew.

Not on Luke’s part. But during Luke’s troubled teen years, marked by petty crimes that followed his mother’s death and his brothers abandoning Cheyenne and Luke as a result—well, Daniel had gloated. The two hadn’t spoken in years, not since Daniel moved to Denver.

What happened to the good person Daniel used to be? Did he deserve another chance? Would marriage to Jenny straighten him out?

She seemed like a good woman. She had guts and stamina. And out here, where men outnumbered women eight to one, the strength of men depended on the strength of their women. Once Jenny married Daniel, she’d be stepmother to Adam. She’d make a good one, too. She’d been kind enough to help Luke, hadn’t she?

And how had he repaid her kindness? He stirred uneasily.

Forcing himself to look at the moving ground outside instead of the captivating woman inside, Luke ran a hand over his bandaged chest and moaned. The whiskey stains had dried. He’d been through enough fights to know his wound was light and it would heal. He was used to changing bandages all by himself, and he’d change these, too.

Her whisper pierced the quiet. “What’s your real name?”

He started at the silky sound of her voice and spun around. She sat up, clutching his jacket. Her hair matted along one side of her head, full of loose straw. Moonlight shadowed the hollows of her straight nose and curved mouth. He tried not to notice how pretty she was. She was Daniel’s. Luke would sooner die than cross that line of honor. He’d never chase another man’s woman. He was not his father.

Clearing his throat, he leaned a shoulder against the rough plank wall. “I told you. I’m Luke McLintock. And I didn’t steal any money. If I had, do you think I would have been standing on Daniel’s porch? And do you see any bags of money?”

She frowned, glanced at the saddlebags, then eyed him with suspicion. “Tell me truthfully how you know him.”

“You know already. We grew up together.”

“One friend wouldn’t do this to another.”

He winced, then shuffled his feet. “I’ve been saying the same thing to myself for eight hours.”

She sat up taller. Her slim waist flared to rounded hips. “Prove it to me. Tell me something only you would know.” A soft tremble rippled across her mouth. She was frightened of him, and that tweaked his guilt.

“Like what?” he asked gently.

“What day of the week was he born?”

“That’s easy. He says he was born to work with money. He tells everyone he was born on a Friday, the busiest banking day of the week. In mid-January.”

Her eyes probed his. “When were you born?”

“Six years later, during harvest. The last week of September.”

She lifted her chin. “Oh…that’s next week.” Her features tightened with suspicion. “What are his folks’ names?”

“They were Lance and Ellen. They passed away years ago.”

Scowling, she hugged her knees, pulling her gown around her. “Well, anyone might know that. Tell me something about yourself. How did your…your father die?”

“Daniel didn’t tell you?”

She drew back. “Should he have?”

“No, I’m just surprised.” After all, he thought to himself, Daniel loved to make himself sound superior. “My mother died of working too hard,” he said, gritting his teeth, trying not to remember how she’d had a stroke while on her knees scrubbing floors. “And my father…” he closed his eyes for a moment and leaned back against the wall for support “…my father was hanged.”

Silence.

“That can’t be true,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

He pressed his lips together and shrugged a shoulder, too ashamed to meet her eyes.

More silence.

“For what crime?”

“Pick one.”

Straw rustled. He turned to look at her and she inched backward defensively, until she was pressing up against the slatted boards. As if she had to protect herself from him.

But didn’t she? He’d taken her from her family, from all she loved.

Her lips parted. She continued to stare, measuring him with a pensive shimmer in her eyes. Her smooth skin glowed in the dim light and her messy hair tangled with the straw. He shouldn’t really stare, but she had such a wild beauty. There was a softness and a strength to her that fascinated him.

“How’d you and Daniel meet?” he blurted.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure she’d answer. “At a Union Pacific social,” she finally said. “The Independence Day fireworks. Father arranged the introductions.”

Luke found the news strangely uplifting. “You mean your father arranged the wedding?”

In a fluster, she ran her fingers through her hair. “Well, not exactly. Sort of…” She gave a little cough. “It was my decision.”

“I see.” Lots of fathers arranged marriages. Why did this news please Luke?

Sudden anger flashed in her eyes. “You better watch out when my father gets ahold of you.”

“Daniel has a way of convincing people. I’m sure he can handle your father.”

Her voice rose. “Not this time. My father will know something’s wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never missed writing a speech for him before.”

He pressed his back against the cold wall, facing her directly. “You write your father’s speeches?”

She nodded and plucked at the straw near her boots.

“You’re educated then. Went to college in Boston?”

“Well, not precisely. My brothers did.”

“But not you?”

She furrowed her brow. “I read every one of their books.”

“Why didn’t you just go to school?”

“Because women don’t go to college, that’s why,” she answered.

He paused. “But I hear they do.”

Glancing down at her fingers, she twisted her engagement ring. Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “It’s what my father always tells me.”

“Oh.” Luke was touched by her tender admission. “Yet he gets you to write his speeches.”

“But no one knows I do.” She met his eyes with such honesty, it upset his balance. “Well, except you.”

“Your father sounds like a hypocrite.”

Jenny’s eyes sparked. “Do you always say exactly what’s on your mind?”

“Mostly.”

“That’s why your chest is all scarred up.”

He grinned with sudden humor. “That’s a pretty fair deduction.”

Jenny lowered her head and swallowed. “Can’t you please let us go? Where is Olivia?”

“She’s safe in the next car.” He spun away so she wouldn’t see his eyes softening. For a moment, he stared up at the stars, feeling the cool wind on his face, the wheels of the train thundering beneath his boots. Mustering strength, he turned to face her. “As soon as Daniel arrives, and I expect it’ll be tomorrow, I’ll release you.”

She searched his face. “You promise you will?”

He prickled under her scrutiny. Suddenly the boxcar seemed very small and her nearness overwhelming. “Yeah.”

“Both Olivia and me?”

He nodded in reply, respecting her for her devotion to her friend. She slid a piece of straw from her hair, above her ear. The absent movement made her jacket slide open, revealing the creamy flesh of her shoulders. His pulse dipped.

“Why can’t you be more like your friend? Daniel turned out so good and you turned out so bad.”

Every muscle in his body tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think I do.” She coolly appraised him. “You’re down on your luck. Instead of working hard to get yourself out of the hole you’re in, you’re stealing money. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Her comment stung. He braced his feet against the movement of the train. “People aren’t always what they appear to be. This isn’t about money.”

Her face became set. “Then what’s it about?”

“Doing what you know is right. Truth and honor.”

She shook her head. Her hair was a mass of tangles. “What do you know about those? No wonder Daniel never mentioned you much. I wouldn’t be proud, either, if I had a friend like—” She stopped abruptly and averted her eyes.

An angry reply burned his lips. He didn’t care what in blazes she thought of him. In about thirty-four hours, it would be settled. And then Daniel alone would have to deal with his new Boston bride.

But when she gazed back at him with confusion in her misty eyes, Luke floundered. She stirred him. He didn’t want to be stirred. He didn’t want to be conflicted.

“If this is about the truth,” she said in a voice that reached him somewhere deep, “explain it to me. Tell me the truth, Luke.”

The trusting way she said his name weakened his resolve. Should he tell her about Adam? She was engaged to be Daniel’s wife, and didn’t she have every right to know about the boy? She seemed strong enough to handle it.

But he had to be careful how he explained it, so she wouldn’t get too upset. His own neck was on the line, and because of that, and for the sake of Adam’s future, she had to remain committed and engaged to Daniel. Daniel sure as hell wouldn’t drop any charges or sign any papers if Luke jeopardized the engagement.

Luke shoved back from the wall and straightened to his full height. “All right,” he decided. “When we get to Cheyenne, I’d like you to meet someone, and then you’ll understand.”