her lips parted in a slight smile. “No, he did not. But I lost my horse to another thief.” She glanced over at her brother. “Chased him through the night. The horse ran off before I got him.”
“Wait—you ran early?” Cort asked.
“I didn’t have much of a choice. Tried to get my horse back,” she said. “Doesn’t matter, though. Should’ve stayed put.”
“That’s a long run for coming up empty-handed,” he muttered.
Her lip trembled. “This is not how I expected to end up, I promise you that.”
His insensitive remark surely prodded her next sob. Cort didn’t hesitate to gather her in his arms. Her shaking body was warm against his chest. She melded into him, prompting a powerful instinct to tighten his grip and assure her that he’d protect her. His cheek rested on her bonnet while she cried. Lavender mixed with the dry prairie air filled his nostrils. That strange storm of hope brewed again, filling him with a boost of life.
Oh, Lord, give me strength.
Miss Huxley began to quiet, and as she did, her body stiffened. She pulled away. “All I care about right now is that my brother heals. I didn’t expect to take care of anyone but myself out here.” Her eyes were red, just like her flushed cheeks. “But I was also planning on having land of my own.” Her mouth turned downward.
Cort remembered the letter she’d written. This woman was trying to escape her past, just like he was. A twinge of sorrow plucked his heart. “You mean, you were going to run by yourself today?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Well, having a horse would have been nice.” She rolled her eyes then sighed. “I know plenty about working the land and caring for horses in a proper way. Not like my pa. This was my chance to get away from him once and for all.”
Cort swallowed away his guilt. It was not his fault that he got there first. “You should’ve claimed it, then.”
Her eyes flashed with frustration. “And I planned to, after the race had started. Fair and square.” She pouted. “If you don’t mind, my brother and I will stay here until he recovers. Then we’ll get off your land, Mr. Stanton.” Her dress rippled behind her as she took brisk strides to her brother. She offered him a drink from the canteen.
Fine. Stubborn woman could throw a fit about not getting her way. He couldn’t allow his heart to soften toward her anymore. What did she expect? For him to pull out his flag and give her one hundred and sixty acres out of sympathy?
When he returned with a second canteen, Miss Huxley was leaning against a lone tree, facing the sunny prairie just to the north. He set the canteen by her brother, who was asleep beneath the quilt.
A horse appeared upon the horizon to the north, barreling their way. Cort grabbed his holster. Would he have to ward off another person from his land?
“Miss Huxley, why don’t you come beside your brother. I’ll take care of this.”
“You forget, Mr. Stanton, I can take care of myself.” She walked over to her bag, pulled out a small pistol and shoved it in her pocket.
“Fine. You can help guard my land if you’d like.” He smirked. She glared at him in response.
The rider slowed to a trot. When he was on the edge of the western tree line, he waved above his head.
Miss Huxley shaded her eyes with her hand. “It’s a soldier.”
Cort’s stomach fell. The law. He tried to maintain his confidence. He couldn’t help but consider the fact that anyone dressed in a uniform might be his doomsayer. A part of him knew he was being irrational. The man couldn’t have known who he was—yet. Cort was different without his beard. And it was not as if he had his name written on his forehead.
But he couldn’t hide forever. If anyone knew how small this part of the world was—no matter its million acres of prairie—it was Cort Stanton. He’d seen firsthand how quickly familiar faces popped up when you least expected them. Wasn’t Aubrey Huxley proving this to be true right in the middle of the Cherokee Strip? He would take it as a warning to be more careful.
“Hello there.” The soldier stilled his horse just a few yards away from them. His attention fell on Miss Huxley’s brother. “Is that man okay there?”
She stepped forward. “His leg appears to be broken. Do you know if there’s a doctor nearby?”
“I sure don’t. But I’ll keep my ears open for one. I’m riding around informing everyone that a land office is set up about two miles west of here, near the Alva depot. The quicker you get there the better.”
Cort rubbed his hands on his trousers. Why was he sweating so badly? This wasn’t Texas.
“I’ll get there soon. Thank you, Officer.” Cort pulled at his collar.
The scout tipped his flat-brimmed hat. “I’ll be sure to send a doctor over if I come across one.” He nodded at Aubrey. “As quick as everything’s happening, there’s bound to be one around here soon. They’ve already brought in a land surveyor from Amarillo. Y’all will have a town quicker than you can say ‘Alva.’” He galloped away.
A land surveyor from Amarillo? This wasn’t Texas, but it sounded like Texas was coming here. Cort would’ve never expected to see someone from his hometown in the Cherokee Strip. He began to head over to his horse, praying that his weak legs would carry him that far.
I just wanted more time.
If he risked showing up at the land office with an Amarillo man about, then his time may as well be up. He’d seen wanted posters with his name on them on his way out of the Panhandle. Even if he changed his name, the Amarillo man would recognize him, wouldn’t he? This whole venture to hide seemed useless now.
“Mr. Stanton, I wonder if you could ask around for a doctor also? The faster we find one, the quicker we can leave.” Miss Huxley’s voice was as unstable as Cort’s heartbeat. He could hear the hurt.
“You can stay as long as you like.” His shoulders slumped.
“Believe me, it’s better than what’s waiting for me in Kansas. But I assure you, I don’t need the reminder of all I’ve lost.”
All she’d lost? Guilt began to swim around with his hopelessness. He’d taken the land from beneath her nose, and he might not even be able to keep it. What right did he, an outlaw, have to hoard land when this woman’s whole future lay ahead of her?
He grabbed the horn of his saddle and pulled himself up. When he turned his horse around, he spied Miss Huxley squeezing her brother’s hand. She bent her head and mumbled. Cort’s throat tightened.
Lord, what should I do? I just want some time.
Maybe he could buy some time? He clicked his tongue and tugged the reins. The horse approached the two siblings. Miss Huxley stood as Cort dismounted. An awkward silence passed between them. She stroked his horse’s mane while he tried to form words.
“You know, this is an awful big chunk of land for a man to live on by his lonesome.” He gritted his teeth. “I’m not even going to stay long. It’d be vacant for most of the time.” He swallowed
