Читать книгу The Outlaw's Secret - Stacy Henrie - Страница 14

Chapter Five

According to his pocket watch, a gift from his mother years ago, Tate had been awake off and on the past four hours. Jude had taken over guard duty at the appointed time, but Tate had kept his spot near Essie. Though he felt sure no harm would come to her while he slept, the possibility had him waking every hour and unable to get back to sleep the last thirty minutes. It was going to be another long day.

When Clem rose, Tate sloughed off his blanket and got up, too. Essie appeared to still be sleeping, judging by her even breathing and occasional soft snores. He found himself smiling as he went in search of wood for a fire.

His thoughts soon returned to what Essie had said about the danger of overprotecting one’s family. Was that what he’d done with Tex after their mother had died? Or when he’d tried to intervene between his brother and Ravena?

A frown replaced his earlier smile. He’d done and said what he had out of love and concern—for both Tex and Ravena. And yet had he unknowingly stifled his brother’s potential instead of letting consequences play out naturally?

The question drudged up memories and emotions he preferred to keep buried. Chief among them was guilt, even though he wasn’t the brother living on the wrong side of the law. Maybe when this was all over, he would track Tex down. Find out why his brother had disappeared four months ago. Despite the mile-wide canyon of disagreement and bruised pride between them, Tate hated to think of his twin hurt, or worse.

After finding a few decent-size sticks, he headed back to camp. Essie was awake, wearing the jacket he’d loaned her last night. The thing dwarfed her, but she’d rolled the cuffs back so she could brush her hair. Unlike yesterday, after the rainstorm, the unbound blond waves looked smooth and glossy this morning. Tate had the strangest urge to run the ends through his fingers.

“Thank you again for your jacket, Ta—Mr. Tex,” she quickly amended, her eyes widening at her mistake. But Clem didn’t seem to be paying attention, and Jude, now relieved of guard duty, was dozing on one side of the camp. Fletcher and Silas were off by the horses.

Not for the first time, Tate questioned what had possessed him to give Essie his real name last night. He was certain no one knew the Texas Titan had a brother, let alone a twin. Disclosing such a personal detail, though, had the potential to get him in loads of trouble. Especially if Essie slipped up in front of Fletcher. But, after hearing her talk about her own brother before she’d fallen asleep, Tate had felt compelled to share something real in return.

“Here’s your jacket.”

Tate belatedly realized she’d been sitting there, holding the jacket out for him. “Keep it. At least until the day warms up.” He rather liked how she looked in the oversize garment, her hair flowing around her shoulders and her small but capable hands peeking out from the cuffs.

He tried to push aside the thought as he dumped the wood next to the cold ashes. But he couldn’t deny the fact that Essie was far more attractive than he’d given her credit for on the train yesterday. Not that it mattered. He was on a mission and she believed him to be an outlaw—and that was the way he needed it.

“What’s for breakfast, Clem?” Essie asked in a cheery tone as she put away her brush and folded her blanket up neat and tidy.

Clem exchanged a look with Tate. “Uh...that’d be beans and biscuits again, ma’am.”

A slight frown appeared between her brows, but it vanished the next moment. Tate was beginning to realize her smiles and optimism weren’t a show or a cover for fear—her cheerful disposition was apparently as real as her knowledge of guns and tracking and family relationships.

“That sounds good and hearty.” She smiled at Clem. “May I help? It’s been some time since I cooked, but I used to make decent biscuits at home.”

The outlaw cook glanced around as if fearing her help might cause him trouble. “All right,” he finally said with a shrug. “I ’spose you can do the biscuits.”

A full smile curved her mouth, reminding Tate once again that she was as pretty as she was intriguing. “I’ll try not to disappoint.”

Tate coughed to cover a laugh—anything would be an improvement over Clem’s clumsy cooking. Essie shot him a disapproving look, as if she could somehow read his thoughts and didn’t want him wounding Clem’s feelings. With nothing more to do, he excused himself, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll go see what the plan is for today.”

Silas was saddling the horses while Fletcher watched. “Hear anything suspicious last night, cowboy?”

Tate shook his head. “Not a peep.”

“Good.” Fletcher situated the saddlebag of money onto one of the horses. “No lawmen will likely catch up to us, then.”

“What’s the plan?”

“We’ll split up again, just in case. You, Silas and Clem can ride together. And me, Jude and the girl.”

Uneasiness churned inside Tate’s empty stomach at Fletcher’s words, though he hid it behind a thoughtful look as he casually crossed his arms. No way was he letting Essie out of his sight. Not yet, and maybe not at all. Though she wasn’t completely helpless, she was still a bit naive, viewing their flight to the hideout as a grand adventure.

“We can do that,” he said with nonchalance. “Though I thought the girl was my responsibility.”

“She is, but I don’t trust you, Tex.” The outlaw leader threw him a level look. “You left her behind yesterday. What’s to say you aren’t gonna try another move like that today?”

Tate’s jaw tightened. “Because I now understand that if something happens to her, I’m to blame.”

Fletcher nodded, a sneer on his mouth. “You got that right, cowboy.”

“Besides.” Tate pressed on. “She’ll likely slow you down today.” Though he doubted it. Essie could ride better than any woman he’d encountered. “And if you do run across the law, you’ll have far less explaining to do if you aren’t riding pell-mell over the hills with a woman in tow.” He let that reason settle in before he finished with, “As the leader of this gang, you’ve got to keep yourself far from the most risk.”

Scowling, Fletcher rubbed a hand over his whiskered jaw. “You may have a point, cowboy.” He pushed up his hat and stared in the direction of the camp. Tate could see Essie working over a pan at the fire. “You take the girl with you. Clem will come with us. Now let’s eat.”

Tate hid his smile, in spite of the relief coursing through him, as he trailed Fletcher and Silas to the fire. The smell of freshly cooked dough filled his nose and made his mouth water.

“Your breakfast, gentlemen,” Essie announced when they approached. “Courtesy of Clem and myself.”

“I only done the beans,” Clem muttered, scooping portions of them onto the tin plates. But his brown eyes glowed with obvious appreciation at Essie for including him.

Tate thanked her as she passed him a full plate. The biscuits looked as light and airy as clouds. Maybe Essie could be cajoled into taking over all the cooking for the duration of her stay.

Lifting a biscuit to his mouth, anticipating the flakiness melting on his tongue, he paused when he caught sight of Essie’s dipped chin and shut eyes. She was giving thanks for the food. He lowered his arm, feeling a twist of regret at not praying himself. He hadn’t known Essie was religious, but he found he wasn’t surprised. And while he couldn’t outwardly show his own faith, not if he wanted to maintain his brother’s identity, no one would hear his Heaven-sent thoughts.

Pushing his beans around his plate, he offered his own silent prayer of gratitude. Lord, thank Thee for this food. Thank Thee for keeping me...and Essie...safe. Guide my actions and bless my efforts. Amen.

He lifted his gaze and found Essie watching him, a puzzled frown on her mouth. Did she suspect he’d also been praying? Clearing his throat, he bit into the biscuit with relish, hoping to throw off her perceptiveness, then grinned at her. “Best biscuits I’ve ever tasted,” he said after swallowing the delicious morsel.

“Amen to that,” Jude and Fletcher admitted at the same time. Even Silas was silently nodding approval.

Essie lowered her gaze from his, her cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink, and ducked her head. Was it all the compliments that made her blush? Or his in particular? Tate couldn’t help hoping his words had affected her the most.

Once the fire was out and their belongings stowed, it was time to saddle up. “Who am I riding with today?” Essie asked. Still sporting his jacket, she held the handle of her bag between her hands and watched him and the others expectantly.

“You’ll ride with Tex and Silas, on your own horse,” Fletcher said as he swung into the saddle. “We’ll split up one more day and meet up again at the camp tonight.”

“Oh...wonderful.”

Tate thought he detected a note of disappointment in her voice, but he wasn’t certain of its source. Was she wishing she could ride with Fletcher and Jude? Or was she regretting the fact that she wouldn’t be sharing a horse with him this time? He had to admit he wouldn’t mind having her ride with him once more, even at the risk of being badgered by her bag handle and her questions.

Raking his hand over the bristles of his jaw, he reined in his bizarre thoughts. “I’ll help you up, Miss Vanderfair.” Somehow the idea of calling her Essie in front of the others felt too personal.

He helped her onto the horse she’d ridden yesterday and then climbed onto the back of his own mount. Shifting his weight, he flexed his hands around the reins, preparing himself for another long day of riding—this time bareback, since he’d opted to give his saddle to Essie. But to see Fletcher and his gang eventually apprehended, he’d ride twice as far and twice as long.

After picking their way through a short range of hills, Fletcher, Clem and Jude headed northwest, while Tate and Essie followed Silas northeast. Both groups would double back at some point to meet up at the next camp. Looking over his shoulder, Tate saw Essie coming steadily behind him. She rode well, especially with a saddle.

“I can ride bareback,” she said, catching up with him. “I did it yesterday.”

“And I can do it today.”

She arched her eyebrows at him. He was beginning to recognize it as her telltale sign of skepticism. “When was the last time you rode without a saddle?”

Tate glanced at the sky, trying to remember. “I might have been ten.”

“I was fifteen, which means it’s been fewer years for me.”

“Then that’s all the more reason for you to enjoy having a saddle today.” He urged his horse a little faster. Couldn’t she just be grateful at his attempt at being a gentleman? He’d already fended a curious look from Fletcher after moving the saddle to her horse earlier.

To his consternation, she kept her horse in pace with his. “I don’t want to be a burden. I’m a lot stronger than I look.”

Tate shot her a glance. “I wouldn’t say you’ve been a burden so far. Especially not after that breakfast this morning.” He couldn’t help a smile when he thought of her biscuits. It was the first decent food he’d eaten since joining Fletcher’s gang. “I don’t doubt your strength, either.”

Instead of smiling, though, she turned in the saddle, facing away from him. He hadn’t seen her this agitated since he’d found her wandering over the prairie the day before, angry at him for leaving her behind. There was more underlying her words than stubbornness or pride.

Sudden understanding filled his mind. “Who’s told you that you aren’t strong?”

“A great many people,” she murmured, loud enough to be heard over the horses’ hooves but soft enough to convey the hurt behind the words. “Everyone I know, really.”

He opened his mouth to contradict her, to remind her that God knew her strength and He was the only One who mattered. But he forced himself to swallow the truth. Talking about faith with her would only raise her already-heightened suspicion about him.

A cloud of uneasiness settled over them before she twisted to look at him again. “It doesn’t matter.” She offered him a smile, but it didn’t strike Tate as quite as genuine as some of the others he’d seen since yesterday. “And thank you for the use of your saddle.”

He nodded in acknowledgment though he couldn’t shake his regret over not being able to talk more openly with her. Silas maintained the lead position, which suited Tate just fine. He didn’t know the geography like the outlaw did and, this way, he could observe their surroundings without drawing scrutiny from Fletcher’s man.

“It’s a glorious day for a ride, isn’t it?” Essie declared, the gloom of moments ago apparently forgotten. “Beautiful sunshine, beautiful countryside.”

Tate resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The landscape consisted of nothing but undulating stretches of grass and sagebrush with white, rocky bluffs rising in the near distance. It struck him as rather bleak.

He scrutinized the terrain again in an attempt to see what Essie found fascinating. He supposed the countryside did hold a certain wild beauty to it. And if it wasn’t for the potential dangers ahead, Tate had to admit he might actually be able to enjoy himself. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d gone for a ride simply for the pleasure of it and not because it was part of a job. Maybe there was something to be said for Essie’s skill to see the bright side of things.

That had been Tex’s personality. Always looking for the next fun adventure, always trying to make others laugh and enjoy themselves. It wasn’t a bad way to live, but Tate had eventually come to resent his brother’s wide-eyed optimism. Someone had to be responsible, and as the older twin by five minutes, he’d felt compelled to take up that burden after their father left.

Some responsibility you showed, Tate’s head argued back. Not only does your brother up and leave, but he becomes an outlaw, too.

Tate frowned. He was doing all he could to right the situation, wasn’t he? Steeling himself against further thoughts of Tex, he focused on taking mental notes of the scenery they rode through.

According to his watch, they stopped at noon beside a tiny creek to water the horses and fill their canteens. Silas handed around some jerky and some of Essie’s biscuits that Clem had insisted they save for later, despite protests from the others about finishing all of them at breakfast.

Tate had just taken a bite when the sound of rapid horse hooves reached his ears. “Did you hear that?” he asked, swallowing hard.

Silas cocked his head. “Someone’s coming.”

“I believe it’s more than one someone,” Essie said.

Sure enough, two riders crested a nearby hill, heading straight for them. Tate squinted against the sun to get a better look. “Who is it?” Was it Fletcher and one of the other outlaws? If so, something must have happened.

“They ain’t with us,” Silas murmured, his grim expression mirroring the wariness twisting Tate’s gut.

“Then who...?” The question died on his tongue as the sunlight reflected off a shiny silver star on the taller stranger’s jacket. Tate’s uneasiness spiked to alarm. He glanced at Essie and Silas, lunch entirely forgotten. “We’ve got ourselves a problem.”

* * *

“What do you mean? Who are they?” When Tate didn’t answer, Essie studied the approaching riders more carefully. They weren’t dressed like fugitives. In fact, they almost looked like... Something glinted in the sun, momentarily blinding her and making her look away. But she’d caught enough of a glimpse to know one of them wore a sheriff’s star.

Fear rolled through her at the realization. The two lawmen were nearly upon them and here she stood with two wanted outlaws. Would she be considered an accomplice? Should she turn Tate and Silas over to them to save herself?

“This isn’t going to look good to them,” Tate said, glancing at the horses. “If we try to run or split up, they’ll just chase after us. But if we wait for them to come to us, what reason can we give for being out here, so far from any town or ranch?”

A flash of memory had Essie peeling off Tate’s jacket from around her shoulders and spreading it on the ground. It was a similar trick to one she’d used with her hero in her book The Lawmen’s Legacy.