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“Your father sounds like a hypocrite.”
Jenny’s eyes sparked. “Do you always say exactly what’s on your mind?”
“Mostly.”
“That’s why your chest is all scarred up.”
He grinned with sudden humor. “That’s a pretty fair deduction.”
Jenny lowered her head and swallowed. “Can’t you please let us go? Where is Olivia?”
“She’s safe in the next car.” He spun away so she wouldn’t see his eyes softening. For a moment, he stared up at the stars, feeling the cool wind on his face, the wheels of the train thundering beneath his boots. Mustering strength, he turned to face her. “As soon as Daniel arrives, and I expect it’ll be tomorrow, I’ll release you.”
She searched his face. “You promise you will?”
He prickled under her scrutiny. Suddenly the boxcar seemed very small and her nearness overwhelming. “Yeah.”
“Both Olivia and me?”
He nodded in reply, respecting her for her devotion to her friend. She slid a piece of straw from her hair, above her ear. The absent movement made her jacket slide open, revealing the creamy flesh of her shoulders. His pulse dipped.
“Why can’t you be more like your friend? Daniel turned out so good and you turned out so bad.”
Every muscle in his body tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think I do.” She coolly appraised him. “You’re down on your luck. Instead of working hard to get yourself out of the hole you’re in, you’re stealing money. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Her comment stung. He braced his feet against the movement of the train. “People aren’t always what they appear to be. This isn’t about money.”
Her face became set. “Then what’s it about?”
“Doing what you know is right. Truth and honor.”
She shook her head. Her hair was a mass of tangles. “What do you know about those? No wonder Daniel never mentioned you much. I wouldn’t be proud, either, if I had a friend like—” She stopped abruptly and averted her eyes.
An angry reply burned his lips. He didn’t care what in blazes she thought of him. In about thirty-four hours, it would be settled. And then Daniel alone would have to deal with his new Boston bride.
But when she gazed back at him with confusion in her misty eyes, Luke floundered. She stirred him. He didn’t want to be stirred. He didn’t want to be conflicted.
“If this is about the truth,” she said in a voice that reached him somewhere deep, “explain it to me. Tell me the truth, Luke.”
The trusting way she said his name weakened his resolve. Should he tell her about Adam? She was engaged to be Daniel’s wife, and didn’t she have every right to know about the boy? She seemed strong enough to handle it.
But he had to be careful how he explained it, so she wouldn’t get too upset. His own neck was on the line, and because of that, and for the sake of Adam’s future, she had to remain committed and engaged to Daniel. Daniel sure as hell wouldn’t drop any charges or sign any papers if Luke jeopardized the engagement.
Luke shoved back from the wall and straightened to his full height. “All right,” he decided. “When we get to Cheyenne, I’d like you to meet someone, and then you’ll understand.”
Chapter Three
Dawn. Despite the cool, blue morning mist, sunlight twinkled through the wall boards of the boxcar, and Jenny’s eyes blinked open. She shivered in the crisp air, remembering where she was.
It wasn’t a dream. Her heart squeezed in anguish. She was here, a captured woman with a man she didn’t know. Would today be the day she escaped?
Where was Olivia and how was she this morning? Jenny closed her eyes for a moment, then determination surged through her. She wouldn’t let him win. She’d keep alert to her surroundings and lunge at the first opportunity to flee. Blazes, maybe it’d help if she were friendly.
Still wearing his sheepskin jacket buttoned to the top, she pushed herself from the straw. Was the train slowing down? It was rocking differently. While she stretched her arms to shake off her sleep, Luke sprang to his feet in the opposite corner. She started. With his cowboy boots pounding on the floor planks, his spurs jangling, he banged his fists on the wall to signal his man on the other side. A thud echoed in response.
Luke returned to his magnificent blood bay. Sunlight glistened off its red flanks. “Morning,” Luke said as he saddled his mount. Was he talking to her or the stallion? She didn’t answer.
Trying to ignore his masculine presence, she ran her fingers through her twisted hair, yanking on the knots. She got it into some degree of order, then flattened it on the top. Removing several of the hairpins, she did a makeshift job of tying it into a beaver tail. It would have to do.
From beneath her lashes, she couldn’t resist stealing another glance at Luke. Still in his black denim pants, he’d changed his shirt and donned a knee-length leather coat. He looked almost respectable.
Watching him work, she noticed how skillful he was with animals. His movements emphasized his forceful shoulders, slim hips and muscular thighs. Any woman would think he and his mount were striking, standing side by side. She shouldn’t feel guilty for thinking it herself, about the power and muscle in both man and beast.
The man was a beast, she decided. He should be shackled and chained. He would be once they caught him, she realized with satisfaction.
While he adjusted his saddlebags, she watched his long fingers at work. If what he told her last night about his father were true… What kind of family did he come from? No wonder he was all scarred up. It must come from breaking the law, just like his father.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. Lord, when she thought about last night in Daniel’s office, when Luke had looked like he was about to kiss her—
She pushed away her disturbing thoughts. She pitied him—that’s what she felt. Only pity. “Are we getting off here?”
“Yeah.” Dark stubble shadowed his jaw. He needed a shave. If he’d lend her a straight blade, she’d give him a shave he’d never forget.
“Is this the Cheyenne station?”
“No, it’s the stop before.”
She sat taller, her voice sharp. “I thought you said we’re going to Cheyenne.”
“We are. But the last thing I need is two women hollering murder in the middle of the station.” He worked quickly to buckle straps. “We’ll go the rest of the distance by horse.”
Ride a horse? By herself? She didn’t know how. She’d never tried. Her throat constricted. “Am I supposed to ride the other horse?”
Luke glanced at the sorrel. “That one’s not mine. I’m not a horse thief.”
She jumped to her feet and brushed straw off her dress. “How honorable,” she said with a shake of her head. “You steal women but not horses.”
His lips quirked with humor as he finished with the lines.
“Do you find everything I say amusing?” she asked.
“Just about.”
“Well, then, I’m not talking to you anymore.”
“Suit yourself.” A hint of a smile touched the corner of his mouth. He looked charming, and she squirmed with irritation at the thought.
Unmoved by her cold stare, he slid open the bulky door. His firm, square hand was strong and callused, like the rest of him, and no doubt he was accustomed to working hard. How could such a hardworking man be so down on his luck? Why didn’t he try harder?
He’d said he was taking her to meet someone. Who? A relative? A…former girl of Daniel’s? Was Luke trying to make trouble between her and Daniel?
Jenny knew Daniel was a popular man. Women had been vying for his attention at the Independence Day celebrations from the minute Jenny’d met him. He was a terrific dancer, dancing the smoothest waltz with her. Hadn’t she told him so? Hadn’t he smiled that gracious smile and insisted on having every dance with her, despite the other women?
No matter who Luke was taking her to see, she wouldn’t let it upset her. Luke was the criminal, not Daniel.
She stepped to the open door beside Luke’s tall, lean form and gazed out. Morning sunshine slanted into the boxcar, drenching her. The heat felt good. Clouds that looked like cotton candy swirled in a blue sky. Miles of golden grass, as high as her waist, rippled to the horizon. She peered ahead of the train. Tall aspens, their leaves quaking in the wind, lined a trickling creek. As the train chugged along, a herd of pronghorn antelope drinking at the water’s edge scampered into the pines.
She took a deep, heady breath of pure mountain air. It was so beautiful. More beautiful than she ever could have imagined, back in Boston. The breathless grace of the Wyoming Territory filled her with a sense of awe.
Then the train screeched around a bend and she stumbled, bracing herself quickly. The sheepskin lining of Luke’s jacket cushioned her arms.
Grabbing the edge of the door, Luke hung out the boxcar beside her and hollered something to his man. The wind was whistling and she couldn’t hear what they said. When Luke came back, he swung up on his horse. He had to duck his head so it wouldn’t hit the ceiling.
He motioned for her to mount behind him. Good Lord, he didn’t really expect her to jump that high, did he?
The sound of the horse snorting and the sight of it pawing the floor made her heart pound with fear. She stepped back. Luke, wild and unshaven, looking every bit as much a beast as his sleek horse, stretched out his hand to her. She cleared her throat, about to declare that she didn’t ride, when he suddenly clicked his tongue in frustration, swooped down with a muscled arm and scooped her up.
In a swirl of petticoats, she landed behind him in the hard saddle. It was one hell of a tight fit. What was she supposed to hang on to? In a panic, suddenly dizzy, she gripped his coat pocket.
Before she had time to adjust herself, the horse leaped off the boxcar. They plunged into the blazing sunrise. The wind snatched her hair. Her stomach rose and fell. “Ahhh…!”
The horse hit the ground and galloped hard. They’d made it! A thrill danced up her spine. But there was no way she was putting her arms around Luke. Instead, she tried to hold the edge of his coat, then the saddle. Anything but him. She swayed and dipped, clawing to maintain her balance.
“Sit still,” he hollered.
Still? How could she keep still when she’d never sat this close to a man, in such an intimate position? The back of his thighs felt hard and sleek along the front of hers, and she couldn’t escape the salty scent of his skin. A current of excitement raced through her with every bump, every jostle of his muscles against hers. She shivered and tried to push away.
She couldn’t budge. And she had to keep her legs and buttocks clenched to keep from slipping off.
They rode into a muddy clearing, crossed a line of cedars and splashed through a riverbed. As they headed down toward a grass-covered valley, Luke slowed the horse to a trot. Jenny wiped her sweaty palms on her velvet skirts and tried to loosen the stiffness in her arms. Her chest started to feel hot inside the sheepskin coat.
Ten minutes passed, then an hour. Her breathing steadied. Her hands stopped trembling. The wind tugged at her loosened hair and she found herself enjoying the sensation.
The horse swayed, and for the tenth time, her cheek brushed Luke’s leather-covered shoulder. His body heat singed her cheek. His thighs rippled against hers once more, and she quivered. To take her mind off the man between her legs, she thought of Daniel.
Where was he? Did he miss her? How many men had he organized to chase after her? He’d be at the front of the pack, she envisioned, leading everyone. She couldn’t imagine him with a gun, though. Did he carry one? All she ever saw him carry was that silver pocket watch and a cigar. If he never carried a gun, then who had shot Luke in the office yesterday? The guard?
And she couldn’t imagine Daniel on horseback like Luke was now, roaring through the fields, leaping off the edge of a train, and just…well, just taking a woman he wanted. No, Daniel was a gentleman in every sense of the word, and Luke was…a hotheaded cowboy with no thought of tomorrow.
She tipped her face to the sun and let it caress her. It warmed her skin. In Boston, she never got to spend much time outdoors, or feel the wind or sun on her skin. If she were riding in Boston, she’d be forced to wear a bonnet.
Boston had stifled her—being stuck in the house at eighteen, when her grandmother had passed away. Father thought that’s where proper ladies belonged, but Jenny didn’t. What was wrong with getting an education?
After many fruitless arguments, Jenny had in the end cleaned and laundered and mended alongside Olivia, not because she had to but because of boredom. Soon, Jenny had started sneaking a peek at her brothers’ college books on commerce and accounting. Olivia read the ones about American history. As children, Jenny and Olivia had learned to read together, taught by Jenny’s grandmother.
Olivia. She hoped Olivia, who was no doubt galloping behind them, was also enjoying the fresh air, for it would give them the vigor to fight when the opportunity came.
Energized by the sun, Jenny looked up at the wide blue sky, thinking of all her reasons for coming West. Her father had his dreams of expanding the railroad, and her brothers had theirs of mining and working in pharmaceuticals. The men in her family weren’t interested in listening to her, but she would show them all she had a brain and could use it in business as well as they could. Maybe better. It was at times like these, she imagined, that daughters turned to their mothers for guidance. Jenny, at two, had lost her own mother to cholera.
Ah, well. It had happened a long time ago, and Jenny preferred to look at the future. She smiled in the warm wind, reminding herself that more women owned shops in Denver than they did in Boston. More women were allowed to charge out on their own. Although the two Denver bankers she’d secretly approached for a loan had laughed at her ideas for an undergarment shop, she’d have a store yet. What exactly, she wasn’t sure, but with her beloved’s help she’d do it.
All she had to do was get back to him. If it weren’t for this man, robbing her of the very freedom she cherished most…
Jenny reached out and patted the horse’s red coat. The animal’s hooves pounded beneath her in a steady rhythm. She glanced down at the waving grass. Their interlocked shadows, two riders atop a horse, sailed along the ground.
Why couldn’t she hear the hoofbeats of the other horse? Olivia should be close behind. Shifting in the saddle, letting go of Luke’s coat, Jenny craned her neck and glanced back.
She lost her balance. Panicked, she started to slide, and tried to jerk herself in the other direction.
Luke swore. She felt him grab her skirt and yank. “Hang on!”
With a loud rip, her dress tore. She slid off and hit the ground, rolling in the dirt. A rock smacked her temple. It stung. Her vision clouded. Sprawled on her back, she stayed put and tried to catch her breath.
“Whoa, boy, simmer down,” she heard Luke say in the distance. Then he was by her side. “Jenny! Are you hurt?”
She felt the pressure of his hand on her shoulder. She inhaled slowly and her eyesight cleared. He was looking down at her, his dark brows creased in concern. She hadn’t thought he was capable of any tenderness.
She groaned, trying to rise on an elbow. “I think I’m fine, but my head…”
He slid his hand along her back to support her. Much too close. The shadow of a beard made him look like a wild wolf. “You’ve got a little cut.”
He brushed her forehead with gentle fingertips, then his gaze came back to hers. His dark eyes were deep, warm pools and she felt herself submerging. “You don’t know how to ride,” he said.
It all seemed so ridiculous—the ride, her formal gown…. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
His eyes twinkled and he smiled at her. A kind, handsome smile. Her pulse skittered. She tried to fight it. “Are you laughing at me again?”
“No,” he said, ever so softly. “Why are you so stubborn? Why couldn’t you hold on to me, nice and proper?”
There was nothing nice or proper about their positions on the horse. Suddenly, she became aware of how close they were sitting, how firm his arm felt around her shoulders, how fresh and manly the scent of his skin. Underneath his coat, the collar of his crisp shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a thatch of silky black hair, leading down his chest to who knew where.
He seemed to come to his senses first and jerked away. “Stay here, I’ll get something for your cut.”
She tried to sit up, but her right upper arm rocked with pain. She rolled back to one elbow.
Luke returned with a cloth and dabbed at her forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me you can’t ride?”
“I didn’t have time.”
He pushed his hat back. The sweat-dampened hair at his temples glistened in the sunshine. “It’s my fault, I should have asked. I’m sorry.”
Finally, an apology for something. He kept dabbing. “You surprise me. A polished lady from the East, dressed in velvet, wearing imported perfume…yet you sure spit tacks. You don’t complain very much, do you? I mean, about sleeping in a pile of straw or at being thrown onto a horse when you don’t know how to ride.”
She broke their intimate gaze. The words seemed harmless, but the sincerity in his eyes… He was sitting so close she could feel the breeze whisper off his skin. How did a man like him know her perfume was imported?
How did she wind up this near to him? She squirmed away.
