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.
Chapter Five
Juliana was thirsty. And hot. Her throat was so dry it hurt to swallow. In her haste, she hadn’t thought about the need for water or protection from the sun’s rays. Her bonnet was probably where she’d left it—tossed on top of her blanket. Her fair skin felt tight and was sensitive to the touch, especially her cheeks and forehead.
Gauging the sun’s position, she guessed it to be near eleven o’clock. She’d left the forest behind about two hours into the journey and had been traveling through open fields ever since. In the distance, she saw another forest and hoped it wouldn’t take long to get there.
Her stomach was empty and urgently protesting that fact. If she didn’t find a place to fish, she would stop and search for berries and nuts. An apple tree would go a long way toward filling her stomach. Lucky’s, too.
In all likelihood, Evan would laugh at her situation. After what she’d done, there’d be no room in his heart for compassion. It was an unwritten rule of their society—a man simply didn’t mess with another man’s horse. She supposed that rule applied to women, too.
While Juliana was thankful that she’d been able to escape her kidnapper, she couldn’t deny that men came in handy sometimes. Especially out on the open trail.
At long last, when Juliana was near to the point of falling off the horse, she reached the trees. She heard the sound of rushing water and sagged with relief. Past the point of all care, she ran to the water, flopped down on her stomach and submerged her face. Her unbound auburn hair floated on the surface like an intricate spiderweb.
Rolling over on her back, she lay there half-in, half-out of the water, arms spread wide. Lucky was there nearby, noisily drinking his fill.
“What a sight we must be.” She chuckled, reveling in the cold wetness and blessed relief from the relentless sun. Thank You, Lord. I was about to suffer a sunstroke, I do believe.
Reluctantly she sat up to survey her surroundings. Water sluiced down her back, but she didn’t mind. It felt divine. Nothing about her surroundings triggered a memory. Of course she’d slept in the saddle last night, so it stood to reason that she wouldn’t recognize the landmarks.
Butterflies filled her stomach at the memory of being held in Evan’s strong embrace. She’d fought to keep her eyes open, but between Lucky’s loping gait and Evan’s warmth enveloping her it had been an impossible battle. The fact that he’d carried and settled her in for the night made her face flame with embarrassment. Disgusted at herself for letting the outlaw affect her, she addressed his horse.
“Are you hungry, Lucky?”
The black had already searched out a patch of green grass and was chomping away.
Juliana scanned the brook, disappointed to find only minnows in the shallow depths. There weren’t any frogs, either. Not even a turtle. A flash of white caught her eye, and she glanced up to see a cottontail hopping past. “You sure are a cute little guy. I hate to say this within your earshot, but if I had a gun I’d be having you for lunch.”
Squeezing the excess moisture out of her hair, she used Evan’s comb to smooth the long locks.
Lucky didn’t protest when she led him deeper into the woods. He was such a sweet horse. A prize, really. Evan must be heartsick at having lost him.
Well, if he hadn’t kidnapped her in the first place, she reasoned, he would still have the horse in his possession.
They came upon a blueberry patch, but someone or something had beaten them to it. Few berries remained, which only seemed to amplify her hunger. It also brought to mind her mother’s birthday cake, piled high with blueberries and strawberries. She’d never gotten a taste of that magnificent dessert.
When I get home, she promised herself, I’m gonna ask the twins to make another one just for me.
Daydreaming about her homecoming, Juliana thought her mind was playing tricks on her when she caught the scent of meat roasting over an open flame. Her mouth watered. Someone was nearby—with food.
As much as she longed to go crashing through the underbrush and demand to be fed, she decided not to announce her presence before getting a look at whomever was out there. A woman alone had to be cautious or risk serious harm.
With Lucky following close behind, she ventured closer to where she believed the scent was coming from. Unexpectedly, a raucous male voice broke the silence. She halted midstep and goose bumps skimmed along her skin. He was singing a ditty unfit for a lady’s ears.
Juliana continued her approach, however, determined to see for herself what he looked like. Dense weeds and bushes provided cover so that she could get close without him spotting her. Looping the reins around a tree limb and issuing a command for Lucky to stay, she crawled into the bushes.
The pop and sizzle of meat made her mouth water. A fat brown spider landed on her hand and, gasping aloud, she flung it away. She detested spiders. Once, when she was a little girl, she had been playing in the hayloft when she disturbed a whole nest of them. Tiny spiders—hundreds of them—scurried in all directions and, of course, some of them crawled over her shoes. Screaming at the top of her lungs, she ran to climb down the ladder and, in her haste, fell to the hard dirt floor below. She suffered a broken arm and spent half the summer confined to the house.
Juliana
