lately. Not since I was just a kid, settin’ out to see the country.”
“Did you? See the country, I mean?” She leaned forward and took the stockings from him, then carefully covered her feet with them. One more thing she’d be owing him for.
“Saw Texas and parts west,” he told her, shifting to one knee. “‘Course, I don’t think anybody’s ever seen all of Texas. It just goes on beyond what most folks consider civilization, right down to the border.”
“Now you’re going home?” She tugged the stockings up, then covered them with the rolled-up cuffs of his trousers. His eyes had been on her movements, and she flushed as she recognized his interest in the pale flesh of her calves and ankles. His fingers had been gentle on her feet, their touch sending slivers of fire on a race through her that had little to do with the whiskey’s potency. It seemed she was not immune to his style of doctoring, nor the gruff tenderness he dispensed.
“Yeah, I’m headed home.”
“You don’t sound very happy about it,” she said quietly, squinting against the sun’s rays as she looked up at him.
His smile was a grimace. “I’ve been happier, like when I faced a whippin’ from my pa, or had to split a cord of firewood before breakfast” He rose quickly, offering her his hand. “Come on, we’re wastin’ time talkin’ and the day’s half-gone.”
“Half-gone?” She eyed the sun, barely visible through the trees. “It can’t be more than eight o’clock or so.”
“I’m saddlin’ up, Cassie. If you’re ridin’ along, you’d best be ready to go.”
She looked around the clearing, trees on three sides, beyond them the trail leading back to Loco Junction, now at least thirty miles away.
Crouched beside his belongings, Will delved deeply into the pack holding his personal things, muttering beneath his breath as he sorted through the miscellany of his scant supplies. A grunt signified success and he hoisted himself to his feet, a brown-paper-wrapped package in one hand.
“Here.” He tossed it in her direction as he glared at her, his lowered eyebrows adding a menace to his look. “Bought those for my sister, back down the trail. They oughta fit you. She won’t mind if you borrow them till we can find somethin’ better for you to wear.”
Cassie’s fingers trembled as she unwrapped the soft bundle. A gift was to be enjoyed, even if it was just on loan. A pair of moccasins tumbled into her lap and she touched the supple leather with one finger, then lifted them to her nose to inhale the distinctive scent. He’d picked out pretty ones, beaded and sewn with careful stitches, and for a moment she envied the sister who merited such tender regard.
“Well, go ahead. Try ‘em on.” His tone was impatient and she cast him a glance of apology as she slid her stockinged feet within the soft leather protection of the shoes,
“They fit just fine.” It was all she could manage, her throat filling with a strange tightness she could suppress only with a rapid blinking of her eyes. “Thank you.” Her teeth pressed against her bottom lip as she stuck one foot out before her, displaying the beauty of his purchase to his view.
“They’ll do.”
Gruff and abrupt, his approval pleased her nonetheless, and she tucked away her pleasure at his thoughtfulness.
She watched him as he packed his gear, loading the mule in a systematic fashion, balancing his packs, one on either side, tugging and testing the ropes.
“Fold up that blanket and bring it here,” Will called impatiently from the other side of his horse.
Cassie folded the rough fabric quickly and limped to where he worked at the cinch, watching as he pulled the stirrup into place. His hands reached for the blanket, and he arranged it behind his saddle, then lifted her with an ease that left her breathless, settling her as he had yesterday, astride the horse’s back.
The animal shifted beneath her and she held the back of his saddle, balancing herself as the blanket slid in place.
“Whoa, there,” he ordered sternly, approaching with the mule’s lead line in hand. He wrapped it around the saddle horn twice, then eased his way up, his foot and leg coming perilously close as he seated himself in front of Cassie. Looking back at her over his shoulder, he scowled. “Hangin’ on all right?”
She nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.” Fine or not, it beat walking, and she’d be a fool to complain.
The noon meal was a godsend, as far as Cassie was concerned. Will had caught sight of a fat rabbit just ahead, and his gun had brought down the small game with one shot.
“My pa said you should never turn down a meal when it’s offered,” he said, lifting Cassie from behind his saddle. He pressed the blanket into her hands and led the animals to be tied to a nearby tree.
She spread the blanket and watched as he prepared the rabbit for their meal, his movements quick and knowledgeable. “Looks like you’re an old hand at that,” she said as he readied a fire, lighting the small pieces of kindling with a match from his pack.
His shoulders rose in a shrug. “Yeah, I guess. I was in charge of hunting game back home. If I didn’t bring home a rabbit or squirrel—or better yet, a deer—once in a while, we didn’t eat much meat those first couple of years on the farm. Ma said she wasn’t wastin’ her chickens on the dinner table. The eggs were worth more in town than the hens were, cookin’ in a stew pot We ate up the roosters, soon as they were big enough to fry, then it was back to the wild game.”
“How many of you were there?” Cassie asked, cross-legged on the blanket, feeling useless in the face of his dinner preparations.
“Ma and Pa had four of us. My sister, Josie, and two other boys.” Spitting the rabbit, he settled it over the fire, then mixed cornmeal with water from his metal flask. A small pan from his pack held the mixture, and he placed it on a rock at the edge of the coals.
“Will it cook like that?” She’d baked corn pone in an oven, but trail cooking was beyond her.
“The rock’s pickin’ up heat from the fire.” He tossed a thick flannel pad her way. “Turn the pan once in a while. It oughta be done about the time the rabbit is.”
She nodded agreeably. Will Tolliver was turning out to be the best thing that had happened to her in a long while. Whether he tired of her company in day or so, or if he took her as far north as he was heading, anything was better than her stepfather’s shack in Loco Junction.
It had been a long slide downhill the past three years. Her flesh crawled as she thought again of the man her mother had married. She shivered, remembering the feel of the knife in her hand, shuddered as she recalled the flow of blood that had stained her fingers, pooling beneath Remus as he slumped to the floor.
I killed him. Cassie’s eyes closed, then flew open as she beheld the vision of death she’d left behind. Lips pressed together tightly, she breathed the fresh air, the scent of meat roasting over the fire, the clean smell of freedom.
“We’ve got company.” Will stood, a casual gesture, stepping a few feet from where she sat to stand next to his rifle, which was snugged against his pack.
Cassie
