say that. What’s your reason for going all that way, Miss Radford?”
Delsie heaved her own sigh. “It’s for my sister.”
Myles frowned. “Is she dying or something?”
“No.” But there were things that would die if she failed to reach California in time—like Delsie’s promise to her mother on her deathbed and the chance to restore the close relationship she’d once shared with her sister.
A whisper of sadness swept through her at the reminder of their sweet and gentle mother. Lillian and their father, Owen Radford, were far more impetuous and stubborn, more prone to harbor a grudge. For this reason Delsie’s mother had made her promise to look after the other two in Lydia Radford’s absence.
Delsie had diligently done so, smoothing things as best she could between her father and sister for the past six years. At least until Lillian had refused to marry the man their father had chosen for her and instead followed her farmer beau to California ten months ago. Delsie hadn’t known where her sister had been living or if Lillie was even all right until she’d found the letters her father had hidden from her. Now the only way to keep her pledge to her mother was to go after Lillie herself.
“I know it may sound silly.” Delsie tilted her chin to meet Myles’s stern look. “But it’s imperative I be at my sister’s wedding on June twenty-second. If I’m not there, I will never see her again. She and her husband are bound for Oregon the following day and I don’t know where they’ll be living once they reach their destination.” Gripping her valise tighter, she added in a clear voice, “I’m willing to risk whatever this journey may bring to be there and fulfill a promise I made a long time ago. Surely helping family is something you can understand.”
The lines around his dark eyes tightened. “I don’t have any family.”
Compassion filled her, but she schooled her tongue, certain he didn’t want her pity. This loneliness must be what Lillie felt, without family there in California, thinking Delsie had no desire to contact her.
“Why me?” Myles asked, jerking Delsie from thoughts of her sister.
“That other gentleman said you were the fastest—”
“No. Why have me take you the whole way? Why not ask a different Express rider at each home station? Pay each one?”
“Because convincing one man to help me is proving to be most difficult,” Delsie quipped. The barest hint of a smile twitched at his masculine lips before he suppressed it. “I also don’t want to end up in the middle of Nebraska with no one willing to help me move forward or back.”
He folded his arms, stretching his shirt tighter and hinting at the sinewy muscles beneath. Delsie glanced away. She watched the toe of his boot kick at a dirt clod and resisted the urge to do the same. Would he refuse to help her? If he did, there’d be no hope for reaching Lillie by the twenty-second—she’d be gone forever, assuming Delsie wanted nothing to do with her.
At last, Myles emitted a low growl and lowered his arms to his sides.
“Here’s what I’ll do, Miss Radford. I’ll take you with me on my route today.” A rush of gratitude prompted Delsie to step forward, with the intent of reaching for his arm again, but she stopped when Myles held up a hand. “I expect to be paid twenty-five dollars when we reach Guittard’s tonight. I’ll decide then if I think we can go the rest of the way to California.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Mr.—”
“I wouldn’t thank me just yet.” He pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his thick, black hair. “We have a hundred and twenty-five miles to ride, changing horses every ten to twelve. I can’t deliver the mail fast enough if we ride together, so you’ll have to ride your own horse.”
“I know how to ride.”
A glimmer of amusement flashed in his eyes as he replaced his hat on his head. “We’ll see. Since the station owners know me, I think we can get you a fresh mount each time I get one. But it’ll cost you a few dollars for the extra horse and we don’t waste time at any of the stations. We’re in and out in two minutes or less. The moment you start to slow me down, I’ll drop you off at the next station and collect you when I return to Saint Joseph. Is that clear?”
The reality of what she was about to do pressed down on her, momentarily bringing doubt and a panicked throbbing to her pulse. Could she really do this? A hundred and twenty-five miles in one day sounded suddenly daunting—and she had eighteen hundred to go to reach California.
The memory of Lillie’s tear-stained face as she’d ridden away from the house rose into Delsie’s mind. This same image still haunted her dreams. Surely she could endure anything to help her sister and keep her promise to their mother.
“I’ll keep up,” she said, infusing the words with haughty confidence, even if she didn’t feel it.
The merriment returned to Myles’s gaze, though she wasn’t sure if it meant he, too, doubted her abilities or if he found her show of bravery humorous. No matter, he’d agreed, at least for today’s ride.
“In that case, Miss Radford,” he said, doffing his hat and giving her a mocking smile, “let me be the first to welcome you to the Pony Express.”
* * *
Myles had plenty of reasons to suspect Delsie Radford, determined as she was, would falter in her resolve to travel to California—and soon. She was the epitome of a wealthy young lady, with her fine clothes, spotless gloves and a bag containing more money than he could make in six months working for the Pony Express.
Just like Cynthia. Myles ground his teeth against the thought.
Sure enough, the first crack in Delsie’s confident facade came the moment he led the horses out of the stable.
“You...um...don’t have a sidesaddle, do you?” She eyed the trimmed-down saddles on the two horses.
“Nope.” Myles walked toward her, his spurs clinking, his scabbard and revolvers bumping the legs of his decorative trousers. The morning sun glittered off the silver decorations adorning his uniform and his horse. He plucked at his collar with one hand, counting down the minutes until he could change out of the fancy getup. “We use these lighter ‘California tree’ saddles with the shorter, broader saddle horn. Not a sidesaddle in sight.” He stopped the horses beside her. “Change your mind?”
He saw her visibly swallow, then a grim smile graced her mouth. “If you’d be so kind as to help me up, Mr. Patton.”
Myles cocked an eyebrow. Did the girl possess more gumption than she first appeared to? He quickly dismissed the idea—all these rich girls were alike. She’d be lucky if she made it the fifteen miles to the Troy station, let alone the hundred and twenty-five to Guittard’s home station by tonight.
Once he’d helped her sit astride her horse, Myles swung up onto his own. Delsie did her best to pull down the hem of her dress, but she couldn’t quite hide her button-up shoes or the section of her lower calves clad in stockings that peeked above them. Myles jerked his gaze away.
“We’ll ride to the office at the Patee House to collect the mail, then we’ll—”
The blast of a cannon
