Read Beautiful Bandit (Lone Star Legends) Online
Authors: Loree Lough
Tags: #Christian Fiction, #Christian, #Ranchers, #Ranchers - Texas, #Fiction, #Romance, #Western, #Historical, #Texas, #Love Stories
A foolish dream is more like it. “You’re not afraid of banditos?”
He wasn’t sure what name he’d give to the expression that skittered across her face. Apprehension? Fear? “Lots of outlaws down there, you know,” he went on. “Very shady characters, according to the newspapers. No surprise, if you think about it, because the U.S. Marshals and the Texas Rangers can’t touch ’em once they cross the border.”
Dinah blew a whiff of air through her lips. “So I’ve heard. But that’s a—”
A chance she’d have to take? If only she’d trust him with the secret that had put her on the run! How bad could the truth be?
“It’s getting dark,” he observed.
“So it is.”
Small talk, Josh thought with a mental harrumph. He’d never been any good at it. And he wouldn’t have had to deal with it now if he hadn’t stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. “Let’s pull up over there,” he said, indicating a tall pine. “I’ll rustle us up some firewood while you—” He remembered her ankle. “Actually, you sit tight. As soon as I get a fire going, I’ll take a look at that foot of yours.”
An hour later, as the night matured around them, she appeared to be resting comfortably in a splint made of branches held in place by strips of cloth torn from his blanket. He had determined that her ankle wasn’t broken, but it had been twisted badly. They’d dined on jerky and stale biscuits, washed down by tepid water, and she seemed calm and content.
Josh tossed another log onto the fire. “I’ve been thinkin’.”
She stretched languorously. “Do tell,” she said around a huge yawn.
He grinned. “I’m thinkin’ you shouldn’t go to Mexico.”
That certainly woke her up!
“My gut tells me you haven’t thought this through,” he went on.
Dinah tilted her head and regarded him for a moment. “You’re wrong. I’ve given it a lot of thought.”
She was downright beautiful in the firelight, and he cleared his throat. “Then you must’ve hit your head sometime before you lit out for Mexico.”
“Hit my….”
He scooted closer and took hold of her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re not thinking straight, Dinah. Now, I know you think you’re strong and smart and capable, but you’re just a little slip of a thing.” He nodded into the endless darkness. “And it’s dangerous down there.”
She looked at their hands, then met his eyes. “Josh, I—”
“How do you expect to hunt for work with that ankle of yours?”
Her eyelashes fluttering, she started, “I—”
“And, even if you find a job, how will you do it in the shape you’re in?”
Her frown deepened.
“How will you pay your rent without a job?”
Dinah stared into the flames and sighed.
“I’m right. You know I am.”
A second, perhaps two, passed before she said, “Right about what?”
“That you haven’t thought this through.”
“I had everything all worked out, until….” She lifted her injured foot. “Until this.”
“Come home with me.”
She turned her head so quickly that a lock of long, luxurious hair gently whiffed his cheek. “You’re joking, right? What would your wife and children think? What would—”
“My wife died three years ago, giving birth to twin boys, who died, too.”
“Oh, Josh,” Dinah whispered, pressing the fingertips of her free hand to her lips. “I’m so sorry. How sad and—that’s just—it’s just awful, that’s what!” And then she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. After a moment, she leaned back, but only slightly. “You need me to help care for your other children, is that it? Like a governess, or a—a housekeeper?”
“I live alone,” he admitted, his voice sounding quiet and gravelly, even in his own ears. “No wife. No other children. Just me.”
Her brow furrowed. “But you said—” Dinah pursed her lips. “Didn’t you say you had a big family in Eagle Pass?”
Josh started counting on his fingers. “Parents, sisters, cousins who have wives and young’uns, and we all live in houses on the same ranch. My ma could use some help running the big house.” Later, he’d tell her about Lucinda, his mother’s housekeeper, and his unmarried sister, who helped take care of the home.
“But, my ankle— What help can I possibly be, limping around like a—”
“You can sew, can’t you?”
She waved the question away as if swatting at an annoying mosquito. “Well, of course. Can you name a woman who can’t?”
“Then you can darn socks and sew buttons back onto the field hands’ shirts. There are bound to be dozens of chores you could do, sitting down.” He could tell that he had her attention by the way she was chewing her lower lip, the way her eyes were flashing. “And, once your ankle heals, you can do more.” He hoped she wouldn’t say that when her ankle healed, she’d leave.
“What would your poor mother say?”
“About what?”
She groaned. “Why, about your bringing a stranger into her house—one you found wandering around, alone, dirty, and bruised, in the middle of the night, one who can’t earn her keep because of her own clumsiness!”
Knowing Ma, he expected her to say, “It’s about time you brought a woman home to meet me!” But that wasn’t the answer Dinah needed to hear. Josh cleared his throat. “She’d say, ‘Thank heaven, I finally have some help taking care of this big, drafty, old house.’”
“How far from here to your—hey, wait a minute,” Dinah said, narrowing her eyes. She sat up straighter. “I thought you said you lived alone!”
“I built my house with my own two hands, but I spend a fair amount of time at the home place.” He couldn’t bring himself to tell her he’d built the house as a wedding gift to Sadie, and that he hated it more than anthrax now that she wasn’t around to share it with him.
It was clear by the way Dinah sat there, wide-eyed, that she was considering his offer. “Why not sleep on it?” he said, giving her hand another little squeeze. Then, he moved to the opposite side of the campfire and spread out his bedroll. “G’night, Dinah,” he said over the flames.
“G’night, Josh. And thank you.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know what I’ll decide to do after sleeping on it, but, whatever it is, it can’t change the fact that you’re very sweet to offer to take me home.”
Sweet? The last thing he wanted her to think was that he was sweet.
“Who would’ve guessed…?”
Did he really want to ask what she meant by that? “Guessed what?”
“That, in such a short time, you’d become such a dear friend.”
Her words touched him. But they disappointed him, too, because Josh didn’t want to be her friend. He wanted to be more. So much more.
But that was plumb loco, since what he knew about Dinah Theodore, he could put in one eye.
14
Well,” Josh said, “there it is. The Lazy N Ranch…home.”
He sat with one hand atop the other on the saddle horn, staring straight ahead. The view was impressive, to be sure, and Kate squinted, looking for a house, a barn, or a fence that might indicate a property line. Instead, the rise and fall of the gently sloping hills seemed to go on forever, some wearing a blanket of lush, green grass, others draped in brilliant gold, which seamlessly blended the earth and the vivid blue sky. “Where is the ranch?”
Josh swept one arm from left to right. Surely, he didn’t mean that all of this land made up the Lazy N! “How many acres?” she asked.
“Two hundred thousand—now.”
Kate had always lived in a city, or on the fringes of one, in houses surrounded by small yards. As a child, she would spent the summers with her grandparents, who’d owned two acres on the outskirts of Dodge City, and even that space had seemed as vast as an ocean to her. She couldn’t visualize two hundred thousand acres. “How many were you forced to sell?”
“Hmpf,” he snorted. “See that bluff over there?”
Kate followed the imaginary line he’d drawn with his forefinger.
“Used to be ours from there,” he pointed, “to there.” He gave another snort. “Ten thousand acres gone, just like that.”
She wondered how many cows had died of anthrax to force a sale that enormous. “And the contaminated area—where is that?”
Josh nodded. “Just over that rise, there. Nearly five hundred acres, all useless now.”
“But, that’s not forever, right?”
He tore his gaze from the distant horizon and fixed it on her face. “No. Not forever. But the land will be useless for generations.”
Despite the shadow cast over his face by the brim of his hat, there was no mistaking the pain that shimmered in his eyes. He loved this place, just as surely as he loved his family. Kate didn’t have the heart to ask him how long it would be before it was again safe to graze cattle there. Of course, she’d heard of anthrax, but she had no idea what it was. Perhaps, in the next few days, she’d learn more about it. She wanted to know about everything and anything that was of the slightest importance to this wonderful, gentle man. “Is your family expecting you?”
Josh’s mouth slanted in a wry grin. “I’d bet my saddle that George has eyes on us right now.”
“One of your brothers?”
“No, I don’t have any. At least, not by blood. Just four cousins, raised like brothers.” He paused, then added, “George might as well be blood kin, though. I’ve known him almost all my life.”
His reply made her wonder if, in addition to selling off acres, he’d been forced to let go some of his trusted employees, too. But it wasn’t a question she wanted to ask for fear of waking more sad memories. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to see you.”
Josh turned his attention back to the trail. “I reckon.”
“How long have you been away?”
“Twenty-one days.”
The way he enunciated each syllable told her that, to Josh, it might as well have been twenty-one months. It dawned on her suddenly that, very shortly, he’d introduce her to his family. She wanted to make a good first impression, especially on his mother—if that was even possible under the circumstances. “What will you tell her?”
Josh faced her and thumbed the Stetson to the back of his head. “Ma, you mean?”
“Yes.” Why the response had come out sounding like sandpaper grazing a rough board, Kate didn’t know. She knew only that the mere mention of the family matriarch caused her breaths to come in short, shallow bursts. She prayed he wouldn’t say, “Why, I’ll tell her the truth, of course.” Because what woman willingly invited a stranger into her home—especially one who looked, as Josh had said on the night they met, like she’d been dragged through a keyhole at the end of a rope?
“What will I tell her about what?”
“Well, about what you’re doing with the likes of me, for starters. And about why you brought a complete stranger into her house, and—”
“Dinah,” he interrupted her gently, “settle down.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You aren’t the one dropping in unexpectedly at the poor woman’s home.”
He sat quietly for a moment, then exhaled a sigh. “I guess I see your point. So, I’ll just tell her how I ran into you during the ride home, and that, when I realized you were hurt, I offered to put you up until your ankle healed.” He shrugged. “She’s always welcomed my friends. No reason to expect it’ll be any different this time.”
What he’d said sounded reasonable, except for one word: friend. But she’d gone over and over that argument a hundred times in the privacy of her mind, each time coming to the same conclusion: enforcing an arm’s-length distance in her relationship with Josh was the right thing to do. For his sake, anyway.
Until now, her life had rarely brought her face-to-face with the thorny side of doing the right thing. Sticking to her plan would test far more than her resolve; it would also determine the strength of her character.
“Is your ankle bothering you?”
“Not really.”
“Then, why the long face?”
“I was just thinking that maybe I should clean myself up a mite. It’ll be hard enough meeting your family for the first time without looking as scruffy as a barn cat.”
“You look beaut—you look fine. Just fine.”
Kate felt herself blush as she tucked several stray wisps back into place. “How long will it take us to get from here to the house?”
“Half a day, maybe longer.”
Her heartbeat quickened at the realization she’d meet his mother that soon. “Is there a creek or a stream nearby where I might wash up a little?”
“Yeah, but unless they got some rain from that storm we just rode out, it’s hard to know if there’ll be any water moving in it.”
“Is it very far out of the way?”
“Nope.”
And with that, he clicked his tongue, and Callie dutifully moved forward, inspiring Kate’s horse to do the same. “Have you named her yet?” she asked, patting her coffee-colored neck.
“Nope.”
Please, Lord, don’t tell me we’re back to one-word replies for the rest of the ride!
“She’s a lovely animal,” Kate said. “Seems a shame for her to go through life without a name.”
“What do you suggest?”