Safe in His Arms

  Her lagging energy surged when she saw Daniel riding her way. He’d been on the other side of the pasture for most of the day. Not that she’d watched for his broad shoulders, of course. She had too much work to worry about what he was doing.

  She shielded her face with her hand and waited until he dismounted. “Is there a problem?”

  “Nope.” He walked to the river and splashed water on his face. “Just needed a break like you. You’ve been avoiding me for two days. It’s time you aired your grievances.”

  “I have no grievances.” She took a bite of her sandwich so she didn’t have to say more.

  He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his face. “I didn’t come to look for some stolen bonds. When Lewis mentioned it, it was the first time I’d heard the story.”

  She wished she could believe him. Oh, how she wished things were different! If only he were the kind of man he appeared to be—honest, hardworking, kind.

  “What are you thinking?” His gaze searched hers.

  She looked away. “Did you bring your lunch? I can share my sandwich if you didn’t.”

  “I brought it.” He grabbed a sandwich from his saddlebag. “Let’s sit under the cottonwood.”

  She should make an excuse, but heaven help her, she wanted to sit and listen to his deep voice. The air was ten degrees cooler in the shade, and there was a patch of grass around a rock near the water. She settled on it and took a bite.

  “Any word from Lewis?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No one in town has seen him.”

  “Maybe he headed for the train station instead.”

  “The trip would have been much farther. Unless he wanted the time to think about what to say to his fiancée and her father.”

  Daniel dropped onto the grass beside her. “I talked to Vincente about your brother.”

  “This is not your business! You just told me you didn’t come here for the bonds.”

  “I didn’t. But I was curious about the rumor and wanted to find out if there was any truth to it.”

  “So you could get the bonds too?”

  “Too? What does that mean?”

  She tossed the rest of her food to the birds. “Nothing.”

  He stared a moment, then shrugged. “I’m trying to find out what happened to your father, Margaret. There’s something going on at the Triple T. First your father was assaulted, the barn burned, then your pa ends up dead. Now your cousin is missing. We have to figure out what’s going on.”

  “Why do you care?”

  He leaned over close enough to tuck a dangling lock of hair behind her ear. “I’d do most anything to keep you safe.”

  She should look away from his intent gaze, but she found it impossible. She wet her lips, but no words came to mind. Had anyone ever looked at her like he did? It was like he saw past her skin to her thoughts and feelings.

  She finally managed to look away. “You think it has something to do with the missing bonds?”

  “I did. Not since talking to Vincente. He says your brother wasn’t even in Oklahoma when the stagecoach robbery took place. He was signing up for the war.”

  She peeked at him to make sure he wasn’t upset she’d steered him away from talking about anything personal. “He’s sure?”

  “So he says. I believe him. He seemed close to Stephen.”

  “He was. They were like brothers. Inez brought him here when he was a baby.”

  “Vincente says a bounty hunter showed up from Oklahoma, and your pa paid him off and sent him on his way.”

  “Well, someone knows. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have heard the rumor. Where did you hear about it anyway?” He was frowning at something past her shoulder. She turned to look too. “What’s wrong?”

  He jumped up. “Is that Lewis’s horse?”

  She followed him toward a familiar bay mare. The horse was still saddled. “Lewis?” she called. He had to be around here somewhere. He wouldn’t just let his horse wander by itself. A bird sang in answer to her call, but she didn’t see Lewis.

  Daniel grabbed the horse’s reins and tied them to a shrub. “Look here.” He held out his hand, smeared with red.

  “He must be hurt. Lewis!” She shouted as loudly as she could and began to run along the river.

  Maybe the horse had thrown him and he’d been bleeding when he tried to remount. Vincente hadn’t found Lewis in town. Maybe he never made it there. She was about to turn and hike across the pasture when something red caught her eye where the river started to bend. She rushed toward the splash of color, but Daniel passed her and reached it first. His body blocked her view, but she saw him stiffen.

  She reached him and was almost afraid to look at what he held in his hand. “What is it?”

  He turned and held out a red shirt. “Does this belong to Lewis?”

  The shirt was familiar. “Yes.”

  His face was grave. “Why don’t you sit down while I look around.”

  “I’ll help you. I’m not squeamish.” Her words were brave, but her stomach churned. She didn’t want to find Lewis’s body. “He might have taken it off.”

  “Sure.” Daniel’s words lacked conviction.

  He would think her a weak-willed female who couldn’t face facts. Lewis wouldn’t take his shirt off. He was fair-skinned and would be burned by the heat of the summer sun in a few minutes. And they’d found blood.

  She hiked her chin. “Comanche?”

  “Unlikely. More likely that an outlaw accosted him.”

  And left him for dead. Lewis had to be here somewhere. “You take the pasture. I’ll walk along the river.”

  His warm fingers closed around her arm. “Stay within shouting distance. And take your gun.”

  At least he wasn’t trying to force her to stay back. This was her land. If someone had come onto her property and shot her cousin, it was her responsibility. She nodded and walked back to her horse to get her rifle. He did the same and tugged his Winchester free from the saddle.

  “Be careful.”

  “I will.” Her heart warmed at the concern in his voice.

  She walked along the river, following its curves and jogs. There was a fork just ahead, and she wasn’t sure which way she should go. The decision was made for her when she reached the spot because on the right side she saw a saddlebag half submerged in the muddy water.

  “Daniel, here!” She pulled the waterlogged leather from the river and flipped it open. The only item remaining in it was a photograph damaged by the water. It was of Lewis with a young woman. She was pretty, with full lips and bright eyes.

  Daniel reached her. “What is it?”

  She held it wordlessly out to him. Her eyes burned, and she swallowed down the lump in her throat.

  “He would never leave this,” Daniel said.

  “No. Let’s keep looking. He has to be here somewhere.” She had to find her cousin. He was all the family she had left. Please let him be alive, Lord. Maybe the robbers had taken his money and left him. He was probably lying out here praying for someone to find him. And she would find him.

  Calling his name, she ran down the river until her lungs burned and she had to bend over and gasp for air. There was no more sign of Lewis or his belongings. She crossed the river at the shallowest spot. The muddy water soaked her britches to the knees. Perspiration trickled down her neck, and she paused to wipe it away, then trudged back to where she’d left Archie. He’d pulled his lead loose but stood munching on grass.

  When she met up with Daniel, the sun was low on the horizon. She read the discouragement in his shoulders and mouth.

  “I didn’t find him either.” He held up a boot. “I found this, though.”

  “It’s Lewis’s.”

  She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t. But she found herself sobbing against Daniel’s rough shirt. She was alone in the world now.

  NINETEEN

  Darkness was falling, and the sheriff’s office was nearly deserted. Daniel stood close to Marg
aret in front of Sheriff Borland’s desk and wished he could ease the stricken expression from her face. He’d comforted her as much as he dared, but it wasn’t enough.

  The sheriff put a beefy hand on Margaret’s shoulder. “It’s been an upsetting week, Miss Margaret. You should go home and rest. I’ll send a couple of deputies out to look around, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Of course.”

  Daniel had never seen her so dispirited. He took her elbow. “How about some food? We missed dinner at the ranch.”

  “I don’t think I could eat anything.”

  “Let’s give it a try.” He guided her out of the sheriff’s office. Twilight gave the town a golden, misty glow.

  A buckboard rattled past, and he stepped between Margaret and the street to shelter her as much as possible from the dust. A few people strolling the boardwalk expressed their condolences about Paddy, but she made no mention of her missing cousin. Daniel was sure he was dead. Coyotes had probably made short work of the body, though he had said nothing of it to her. He didn’t have to. She’d lived here all her life. She knew the harsh realities.

  They reached the café, but she stopped. “I’m just not up to socializing, Daniel. I’m sorry. Let’s go back to the ranch. Vincente will warm me up a plate of food.”

  “Whatever you say.” He turned toward the livery.

  His attention was arrested by a group of men standing outside the saloon. Richard stood talking with Frank. One other man stood in the shadows behind Richard. Daniel’s gut clenched. Was it Charlie? He thought it might be. He dared not indicate he’d seen them or knew them. If Frank spoke to him, it would bring up more questions from Margaret than he wanted to answer.

  “Let’s go the long way.” He steered her down a side street.

  She stopped and stared up at him. “Who were those men, Daniel?”

  He should have known she wouldn’t miss his reaction. Those eyes noticed everything. “Some men I knew from a long time ago.”

  Her long stride kept up with him. “Why did you avoid them?”

  “That life isn’t part of who I am now.” He willed her to believe him. She suspected he was more than he seemed and had even mentioned she thought he was a robber. If she found out the entire truth about his past, she would throw him off the ranch. He couldn’t risk that. Not now when he needed to be here to protect her.

  Her expression softened. “I guess we all make mistakes.” She glanced behind them. “What does it all mean, Daniel? First Pa is killed and now Lewis. We don’t have any enemies. At least I don’t know of any.”

  “I wish I knew. I thought it might have something to do with that stagecoach robbery, but there’s nothing to that rumor.”

  “What if someone believed it, though? And came here determined to find the bonds?”

  “But why kill your father and Lewis? Who would benefit by Lewis’s death? He was on his way out of the area.”

  Her shoulders drooped, and she rubbed her forehead. “It’s all so confusing. Surely there is some link we’re missing.”

  “I think you’re right, but it’s going to take some time to figure out. I want to get you home. I don’t like this street.”

  He led her along the unlit street and wished there had been another route. The lane was too dark, too close. They exited a block away from the back side of the livery. It was dark here too, but a warm glow of lamplight came from the window of the livery. He picked up the pace and practically propelled Margaret to the safety of other people. They mounted their horses and headed toward the ranch.

  It took only ten minutes for him to realize they were being followed.

  “I’m tired, how about you?” He thought his voice sounded casual enough not to scare her. “How about we pick up the pace?”

  “I’m not sure I can.” Margaret sounded weary. “But you go on ahead. I’ll be there shortly. I wouldn’t mind a little time by myself anyway.”

  “There’s no way I’d leave you alone out here.”

  Her head jerked around at his clipped tone. “Is everything all right?” Her expression uneasy, she glanced behind them.

  He forced a smile. “I’m not sure it’s safe for anyone to go out alone. Not until we know what happened to Lewis and your pa.”

  “Oh, all right. Let’s go.” Her horse broke into a canter, then into a dead run. Her hair came loose from its pins and tumbled down her back in the moonlight.

  He leaned forward over his horse’s mane and followed her. Glancing back, he saw the shadows he’d noticed were keeping pace with them. Whoever they were, they didn’t mean to be left behind. Something whizzed by his ear. A bullet!

  “Someone’s shooting at us!” He pointed toward a pile of rocks about fifty yards ahead. “Take cover!”

  Margaret reached the rocks moments before him. She practically fell from the saddle, then dove behind the shelter of the boulders. He yanked his rifle free from the saddle, then leaped after her. A bullet sparked the rock by his face as he landed in the dirt.

  “I should have grabbed my rifle too,” she panted in his ear.

  Their horses took off toward the ranch. It was just over the hill, so if he could drive off their attackers, they could hike the rest of the way. Resting his rifle on the rock, he waited for the next flash of a gun, then pulled the trigger. The rifle kicked against his shoulder. There was a shout of pain, then quiet. He listened and heard nothing but the wind.

  “I think they’re leaving,” Margaret said.

  He heard it too—the clatter of hooves. When he rose a few minutes later, they were alone. “Let’s get out of here.”

  INEZ HAD WARMED some soup for them, and she brought it to Margaret as she sat huddled under a blanket in the parlor.

  “I don’t know why I’m so cold,” she said. “It’s warm outside.”

  “Shock.” Daniel took the soup from Inez and placed the bowl in Margaret’s hands.

  She let the warmth soak into her fingers for a moment, then sipped the broth. Shudders had wracked her body when they stumbled into the house after the attackers left. “Whoever they were, they meant to kill us.”

  Daniel nodded. “If I hadn’t wounded one of them, they wouldn’t have left.” He moved over to sit by her on the sofa.

  His body heat and the soup warmed her, and after a few minutes she let loose of her grip on the blanket. “I’m better now.” She suspected the sudden warmth in her cheeks had something to do with his nearness. No man had ever affected her like Daniel.

  She inched away a bit. “What would they have to gain by killing us?”

  He stretched his arm across the back of the sofa. “If we knew that, we’d know who was behind it. And I’m not convinced whoever it was meant to hurt you.”

  “You think you were the target?”

  “I think Calvin would like to see me dead and out of the way. He was not in the bunkhouse the night your father was attacked in the corral. I don’t trust him.”

  “I’ll mention your suspicions to the sheriff. Maybe he can get to the truth,” Margaret said.

  She could almost imagine he was embracing her with his arm near her head. For a moment she let herself dream that they were married and sitting here together discussing the events of the day. But it was only a dream. A husband like Daniel would be too good to be true.

  She sighed and let her head drop back a bit. The heat of his arm against the back of her neck told her she was nearly resting her hair on his skin. If only he weren’t an outlaw. If only she could trust him. If only she knew why he was really here. Her eyes drifted shut and she felt lethargic. Then she was drifting to sleep in such a comfortable position.

  When she awoke, the light from the sputtering lamp was dim. It was nearly out of oil. She was stretched out on the sofa with her head on something unyielding. The blanket was pulled up around her chin and smelled of fresh air from being laundered and hung out to dry. She felt deliciously comfortable. She squinted in the faint light and looked up into Daniel’s face. Her head was pil
lowed on his muscular thigh. A slight sound escaped his lips. Not really a snore but deep, even breathing.

  With his eyes closed, she could stare at him all she wanted. Her gaze traced the firm line of his lips. She’d seen a picture once of the statue David by Michelangelo. The statue’s wide forehead and aquiline nose reminded her of Daniel’s strength. There was a bit of stubble on his strong jaw. Her fingers itched to touch his thick and unruly brown hair. A smile curved her lips when he shuffled and sighed. His ears were neat and tight against his head. The column of his neck was strong and muscular like his chest.

  His eyes opened, and she found herself unable to look away. Though he’d caught her staring, he didn’t seem to mind. Had he looked at her while she slept? He’d shuffled her head to his leg and covered her with the blanket.

  “You’re awake.” He made no effort to move away.

  “What time is it?”

  “I don’t know. It was about midnight the last time I looked.”

  She barely breathed as his hand moved from his thigh to her face. His thumb rubbed her cheek as his fingers cupped her jaw-line. Was that tenderness in his face? Her gulp was audible as she swallowed.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “You don’t even realize how beautiful.”

  A denial was on her lips, but she couldn’t force any words past her tight throat. She wanted to be beautiful for just a moment if it kept that expression on his face. She could dream that things were different.

  His thumb moved as he rasped it over her lower lip. His eyes darkened, then his other hand cupped the back of her head. When he bent his head and lifted her slightly, she closed her eyes and accepted the kiss he offered. The masculine scent of him was heady and intoxicating. She forgot the fact that she didn’t trust him and embraced the passion he offered in his firm lips. Forgetting all propriety, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. A surge of heat went through her and she lost herself in his embrace.

  He pulled her onto his lap in a seated position. Her fingers wound into the thick curls at the nape of his neck. She didn’t want to ever let him go. The blood pulsed to her head and all that mattered was how she felt right now, this moment, in his arms. There was such a strong sense of belonging, as if he were the missing piece she’d been looking for all her life. Her doubts meant nothing in these seconds. All fear dissolved and she yielded to her feelings for this man.