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Luke tied his horse to the back of the rig, then strolled to the driver’s seat. Grabbing the reins of the oxen, he glanced at the woman beside him. “Came to your senses, I see.”
The poke bonnet she wore hid her expression, but he didn’t miss the challenging lift of her chin in response. Luke knew better than to think she’d give up easily on the idea of bringing the calf. He paused, waiting for her reply.
Finally she met his gaze. “We’re losing daylight, Mr. Savage. I thought you were in a hurry—” A long raspy bleat from inside the wagon interrupted her.
Luke jumped up and dashed inside the rig for the calf. But Noelle grabbed the calf only moments before and clutched the bewildered animal to her bosom.
Noelle’s blue eyes glittered defiantly. “Don’t you dare touch him.”
“Jeezzo, woman! Don’t you know that you can’t hold that animal all day? And if you leave him in a moving wagon, he’ll fall and break his neck. Use the sense God gave you and think of the animal.”
Her stubborn glare was her only answer.
Luke swore, then took a deep breath. “Be reasonable, woman. Give him to me, and I’ll put him out of his misery. He won’t feel a thing.”
Noelle’s eyes rounded in horror. The calf shifted awkwardly within her grip. She moved to the back of the wagon, coaxing the animal to her, then grabbed the spindly-legged critter in her arms as she climbed down.
Luke watched as Noelle marched around the prairie schooner, the calf in her arms, and strode in front of Luke as she made her way along the trail. Wind swished the calico skirts about her ankles as she balanced the calf in her arms.
“You won’t last five minutes,” Luke yelled. Angry with himself as much as with her, Luke snapped up the oxen’s reins and urged the team after her.
The wagon creaked and swayed with the load. Luke held his breath to see if the cottonwood log would hold fast as it dragged in place of the rear wheel. He sighed with momentary relief. So far, so good.
Within minutes, Luke and the team caught up to Noelle and the calf. She stepped aside to let him pass, her determined blue gaze focused straight ahead.
Damn, she was an ironclad female! He’d laugh if the situation wasn’t so dangerous. “We’re beginning a stretch of alkali desert with water unfit to drink,” he yelled at her. “Grass unfit to eat that only teases the animals. If we break down, we’ll be forced to leave the wagon and strike out on foot through country fraught with Paiutes, desperadoes and greenhorns who are so frightened they’ll shoot first and think later.”
Her only answer was a quickened pace. He grumbled to himself. “Of course if those culprits were to come upon a woman...” He paused, hoping his words had finally found their mark.
Instead, she clutched the critter as a she-bear clutches its cub. Noelle’s poke bonnet pointed straight in the air as she marched past the prairie schooner, with the calf mooing plaintively from her arms.
“Okay, lady. It’s your choice.”
Luke urged the team to a slow, steady gait along the slope of desert that spread before them. A few minutes later, he stole a backward glance. The calf’s head bobbed as Noelle began to struggle with her load. Her jaunty march had slowed to a dragging shuffle. Beneath Noelle’s loose gown, he could imagine her knees almost buckling with the weight of the calf. But he knew Noelle wouldn’t give up until she dropped. “You’ve been warned, lady. Don’t call to me for help. I’ve got a stage to catch.”
Luke clenched his jaw, determined to be as stubborn as she was.
When he had traveled several more miles, Luke drew the team to a stop. He glanced over his shoulder briefly and felt relieved to see that now the calf ambled beside her. Luke shook his head as he watched Noelle force one foot in front of the other, trail dust from the wagon covering both her and the calf. Damn if he didn’t admire her determination. He’d never met any woman who would have put up with what she had without complaint.
The sun and dust beat through the thin calico of Noelle’s travel-worn gown and apron. Loose hair from beneath her sunbonnet flew across her face. It didn’t matter. Each painful step brought her closer to meeting her uncle. To see the surprised and happy expression on his face when he saw her was worth every sacrifice.
What if Uncle Marcel had married since his last letter over a year ago? Perhaps she might have a new aunt and maybe even a little niece or nephew. The idea almost brought tears of joy to her eyes. Yes, she was tired, but she’d walk through fire to be part of a family again.
Ahead, she noticed that Luke Savage had stopped to rest the team. He leaned against the wagon, drinking from the water barrel and smoking a cigarette. His broad shoulders contrasted attractively with his slim hips and long tapered legs. She felt a frisson of feminine response, chastising herself immediately. She averted her glance to the calf, wobbling along beside her. She would refuse to rest; she would take his offer of water, but nothing else.
“Don’t move!”
Noelle glanced at Luke, who stood about twenty feet from where she walked. He aimed his six-shooter at the calf.
“Whatever are you...?”
“Don’t take another step, I said.” Luke stood as still as the mountain range, aiming his gun at the calf ambling at her side.
“No!,” she cried. “No, don’t—!”
The shot rang out, echoing along the far hills. She froze, afraid to look. She forced her eyes open and glanced at the calf. Within two feet of the animal lay the largest rattlesnake—a sidewinder—she had ever seen. Shot dead.
She hugged the calf, then gazed up at Luke as he sauntered toward her. She swallowed the dry dust in her throat. “I—I thought...” She swallowed the words.
“I know what you thought.” He slid the revolver into his holster. “I think this is the time when you tell me how Uncle Marcel will reward me most generously.” His deep brown eyes glittered with amusement as his fingers slid over his dimpled scar.
She wiped her face with her apron. Lack of sleep, heat and fatigue made her dizzy. A flush of self-consciousness tore at her senses. She lifted the calf in her arms, refusing to give him up.
“You win.” Luke spat the words as he strode beside her. “Give me the runt.”
She glanced at him suspiciously.
He scowled. “Don’t look at me like that. I won’t hurt the critter.” He shot her an arched look. “Besides, I’ve changed my mind. If the animal makes it to town alive, you can sell it. The extra money will help pay your fare back to New York where you belong.”
Noelle pulled back. “I’m not a quitter, Mr. Savage.”
“That’s nice.” He took a long drag on his cigarette, then tossed it to the ground, grinding the butt in the sand with the heel of his boot. “But this land makes quitters out of a lot of strong people. If your uncle isn’t waiting for you in town, you’ll have little choice but to head back where you came from.”
Noelle shot him a fueled look, but she said nothing. He watched her climb onto the driver’s seat and pick up the reins.
Within the next few minutes, Luke had unhitched Deuce from the back of the wagon and mounted the horse, placing the calf across his lap. The grating bleat was its only protest.
Luke watched as Noelle straightened the reins, then settled back against the seat. She turned to give him an appreciative smile. “You’re a decent, kind human being, Mr. Savage.”
I’m a sucker for a pretty face, he thought irritably. Damn, you’d think he’d know better after what he’d been through with women. “Let’s move out,” he said instead.
With one hand, Luke balanced the calf across his lap while he pulled out the gloves he kept tucked beneath his saddle. Pulling on the right glove, Luke glanced down to see his trigger finger poking out of a hole in the leather.
“What the...?”
The critter lifted its head and bleated. In a heartbeat, the calf grabbed Luke’s trigger finger and sucked. Luke stared, then glared at Noelle. He didn’t need the sticky dampness inside his glove as further evidence to know that he was wearing the calf’s nursing mitt.
Noelle’s chuckle further irritated him.
“Don’t tell me.” His words shot back. “I assume you’ll be asking Uncle Marcel to buy me a new pair of gloves.”
“Mr. Savage,” she said, purring the words. “You’ve been so very kind that my uncle will reward you with a new suit, as well.” She pursed her lips and stroked her chin as she studied his travel-worn outfit. “Maybe a new hat, neck scarf and boots—”
“No need, Sunshine, but thanks.” Luke shoved his hat down over his face and led Deuce into a slow walk. Does she think she can buy her way to whatever she wants?
Damn, he really didn’t want to know what she thought. All he knew was that because of Noelle, he’d arrive in Crooked Creek carrying a bony animal in his arms, which stunk worse than he did. He only hoped he could sneak into town without anyone seeing his trigger finger sticking out of the calf’s nursing glove, and his clothes reeking of lilacs.
Little Miss Sunshine, on the other hand, would arrive fresh as all springtime, her shiny curls bouncing beneath a sprightly new bonnet. She’d probably wear that blue silk gown that he’d noticed after Little Henry and the other two Indians had rummaged through tier trunks.
Luke’s gaze wandered across the muddy trail that sprawled ahead of them. Proves that women like Noelle Bellencourt could take care of themselves. Besides, it was none of his business what happened to her.
But Blackjack on the other hand...
A corner of Luke’s mouth lifted into a smile. If Blackjack was planning to make that ’Frisco stage today, the old man would be waking up just about now, yawning and scratching, never dreaming that by nightfall, he’d be staring out of prison bars.
And with a little luck, Luke might make it to town in time to surprise Blackjack before he embarked on the stage. Yeah, with just a little luck.
About ten-thirty, Luke guessed, gauging the distance of the sun from the horizon. He’d taken the driver’s seat while Noelle had busied herself, preparing for her arrival to meet her uncle at Crooked Creek.
The sun-faded wooden buildings spread along both sides of the main street of Crooked Creek like miniature wooden blocks he and his brother had played with as children.
The curtains behind him swished open and Noelle came to take the reins from him. He glanced at her. Noelle, dressed in the blue silk gown, looked more lovely that he’d imagined. Freshly scrubbed, radiant with excitement, Noelle smiled at him, as though waiting for him to notice.
Their gloves touched when he handed the reins to her. “Changed your frock, I see,” he said, wishing immediately that he hadn’t mentioned that he’d noticed. He kept his eyes on the trail, feeling more flustered than when he was ten years old and forced to attend his first dancing class in Philadelphia.
Luke stepped from the wagon onto his horse in one fluid movement. He knew Noelle was watching him. Probably she was irritated that he didn’t tell her how pretty she looked in her blue dress that matched the color of her eyes.
Seated on his mount, Luke leaned over and picked up the calf from behind the seat. The calf appeared at ease as it laid across Luke’s lap. Within minutes, it curled its head back around to the pommel and went to sleep.
“Thanks to you, Mr. Savage, we have survived,” Noelle said. He felt her appreciative gaze upon him.
“Yeah.”
“My uncle will want to meet you, Mr. Savage. Where will you be staying, if I may ask?”
He pulled out a bag of tobacco, then rolled a cigarette paper with one hand. He didn’t have to see her to visualize her my-uncle-will-make-everything-all-right look on her face.
“Silver Hearts Saloon.”
He heard her slight intake of breath.
“Oh.”
They rode in silence, listening to the creaking and jostling of the wagon and the steady braying of the oxen.
“There’s the jail,” he said, pointing to a one-story, adobe building. Luke’s back straightened as he glanced around for any sign of the waiting stage. “I’ll drop you off at the lawyer’s office above the bank building, then I’ll take your rig over to Shep’s Livery Stable where your uncle can pick it up.”
“I’m much obliged to you, Mr. Savage. I don’t want to think what might have happened to me if you hadn’t come along.”
The smell of lilacs still wafted from his clothing. His perfectly fitting gloves were ruined, and as soon as he yanked Blackjack off the stage and saw that the scoundrel was safely behind bars, Luke planned to head for the public bath. He’d need to soak a month to get the dust from his bones. “My pleasure, miss.”
He gazed at her. The blue silk did match her morning glory blue eyes. With that perky bonnet with the jaunty feather curling above her heart-shaped face, Noelle would captivate the lawyer, Mike O‘Shea, at first sight. Among the widows, prospectors’ wives and hookers in Crooked Creek, there weren’t any single women like Noelle Bellencourt. Yeah, O’Shea would be dazzled, all right.
Luke took a deep breath. Her hands, holding the team’s reins, were clad in delicate sprigged muslin gloves. He hadn’t seen such stylish clothing since he’d left Philadelphia.
Suddenly Noelle’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that the stage you were waiting for?”
Luke tore his gaze from her and stared as the San Francisco stage tore through the main street and angled off in a northwesterly direction.
“Hell’s bells!” Luke’s horse circled around. “Here,” he yelled, dropping the calf into her lap.
“But I—” Noelle’s mouth opened to protest, but by the time she grabbed onto the calf and pulled him onto her lap, Luke had already kicked his horse into a gallop and taken off after the stage.
Noelle stopped the team, then settled the calf behind her inside the wagon. The calf leaned heavily against her back. She watched Luke and the buckskin shorten the distance between him and the stage.
“Come little one,” she said finally, picking up the reins. “Let’s find Uncle Marcel.”
Luke’s single shot brought the stage to a halt. The driver’s smile of recognition widened. “Whoa, Luke. What’s the matter?”
Luke slid from his horse and grabbed the stage door. “Don’t mean to delay you for long, folks,” he said, tipping his hat to the astonished faces staring from the windows, “but I’m only—” Luke opened the door, and in those first few seconds, disbelief filled his thoughts. “Where the heck is Blackjack?”
Willie Hanson, the stagecoach driver jumped down from the driver’s bench. “Blackjack? You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?”
“Dammit, Luke. I hate to be the one to tell ya, but your partner went to his justly reward.”
Luke leaned on the open stage door, his boot on the step. “Justly reward? You saying Blackjack died?”
Willie touched his hat brim. “Three days ago, Luke. I—I thought you knew.”
“No, I’ve been at Lake’s Crossing the past two weeks.” He turned back to Willie. “How’d it happen?”
Willie shook his head. “Ol’ Blackjack was headin’ back along the Truckee River when he must have hit a bump, or his horse got scared by a rattler. His rig toppled into the river and he drowned.” Willie removed his hat and stared at his shoes. “Just after the big rain, and the river was swollen by the flash flood.” He shook his head. “Terrible shock.”
“Yeah.” Luke had never thought of Blackjack as being capable of dying. “Did I miss the funeral?”
Willie shook his head. “Never found the body, but his coat and that black top hat he always wore were snagged on a branch alongside the river. Figured the body is long gone to China by now.”
Luke knew a rat when he smelled one. “Are you telling me they never found Blackjack’s body?”
Willie squinted, frowning. “Can’t have a body if it rushed along a ragin’ river, too, can we?”
“How do you know that Blackjack didn’t stage the accident to make us think he drowned?”
“Why’d he do that?”
Luke mounted his horse and turned toward town. “Never mind, Willie. Sorry I held you up for nothing.” He waved, then headed back to town.
Luke knew what he’d do. He’d file criminal charges against his old partner, whether he was dead or alive. But deep in his soul, Luke sensed that Blackjack was somewhere, alive and well. “Not for long, partner. I’ll track you down until you pay me back every dollar that you’ve cheated me.”
By the time Luke reached the sheriffs office, he was grinning. “Just like Blackjack to think he could outsmart the townsfolk. But when I find him, he’ll sure as hell wish he were dead.”
Ten minutes later, as Luke stepped up to Sheriff Wade’s office, Noelle Bellencourt and the town’s only lawyer, Mike O’Shea, were coming out the door.
“Mr. Savage, the most awful thing has happened.” Noelle’s face was pale and from O’Shea’s protective hand upon Noelle’s elbow, Luke knew he had been correct about the lawyer’s reaction to her.
“I’ve had a bit of bad news, myself,” Luke said. Focusing back to her, he asked, “Didn’t your Uncle Marcel arrive yet?”
