The glint of sun off metal caught his attention. He shot a glance in that direction, scanning the area.
“What’s the matter?”
He nodded toward the rocks. “Thought I saw something.” He pulled his binoculars from the saddle bag. He took the lens cover off and focused in on a rocky outcropping ahead. He could make out three men on horseback. “Looks like our friends are back.”
“They sure don’t seem to be concerned about us seeing them.” Naomi sipped the tepid water and splashed it on her face. “I don’t understand. One would think they want us to see them.” She handed the canteen back to him.
“Yeah, they’re trying to spook us.”
“You think they’ll attack us?”
He could hear the strain in her voice. “No, not yet anyway. Maybe when we get closer to town.”
“Maybe they know of your reputation with a gun, and that’s why they’re keeping their distance. Maybe they think you’re going to leave, and they’re just waiting.” She pointed at the binoculars. “Could I?”
“Sure.” As he handed the glasses to her, his hand touched hers. Sparks jumped off his hand, racing down his six foot four inch frame. She must have felt something too because she stepped away from him.
She put the binoculars to her eyes, then sucked in a breath. After a moment, she handed them back.
“You recognize any of them?” Wes asked as he stowed the glasses back in his saddlebag. “Any of them look familiar?”
“No, but then I didn’t know many of Roy’s, er, friends.” She paced nervously around the glade.
He could tell something was bothering her. An attack of conscience? “What’s the matter?”
His words seemed to startle her. She looked at him as if surprised to find him there. “Huh?”
“I said what’s the matter? You seem troubled?”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Now that’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. Strange men are out there, watching and waiting, circling like vultures, wanting to kill me for no fault of my own. Why should I be troubled?”
“Oh, they don’t want to kill you—not yet anyway—not until they find the money.” His words were cruel, but she needed to know what lay ahead for her. He wouldn’t sugar coat it just to allay her fears.
She moved to stand in front of him. “Tell me, Marshal, just how much money are we talking about?”
“Well, they got about $20,000 from a bank in Tuscon, another $10,000 from a Wells Fargo job, about $50,000 from train robberies, and several thousand more from a few military payrolls. The list goes on and on. Probably about two to three hundred thousand—or maybe more.”
She staggered backward and plopped down on a boulder. She cradled her head in her hands, a sob escaping her lips.
He could almost feel her pain. For the first time since he’d started this job, Wes believed maybe she hadn’t known of the full extent of her husband’s criminal dealings. As the tears came, he told himself the tears could easily be a ploy. She wouldn’t be the first woman to use tears to get her way.
Awkwardly, he patted her arm. “We’d best be going.”
“I need a few minutes alone. Okay?” With a hesitant smile, she walked away and disappeared into the trees.
The news had hit her hard. Wes chewed on his bottom lip, trying to be objective. It was hard to stay neutral when he wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, kiss her until the tears were gone.
When she returned, her eyes were dry, her lips pinched in grim determination. “I’m ready, Wes.”
“All right.” His admiration edged up another notch. She had strength and courage at odds with the slenderness of her body, yet a strength that didn’t lessen her femininity. “Let’s ride.”
Chapter Four
As Naomi climbed into the saddle and followed Wes, she chastised herself for her weakness. She thought she had no more tears, yet here she was bawling like a baby. During the three long years behind bars, she’d done her share of weeping. The amount Roy and his gang were said to have stolen staggered her. How many lives had they ruined? How many hopes and dreams had they stolen? And how many lives had they taken? It would be unrealistic and naïve of her to think no one had been hurt—or killed.
Wes had ridden ahead of her, giving her time to pull herself together. She studied his handsome physique, wondering what his real motives were. Was he really just a nice guy—’serving and protecting’ her? Or a bloodhound hot on the trail of stolen money?
Or both?
He angled in the saddle and glanced at her, raising his eyebrows in an unspoken question. She nodded she was okay.
When the sun reached directly overhead, Wes stopped at a small stream, dismounted, and motioned for her to dismount. She slid from the saddle and led Jo down to the water. As the mare quenched her thirst, Naomi knelt, scooped up water in her hands, and splashed it over her face and neck. It dribbled down her chin onto her blouse, but she didn’t care. She stood and studied her surroundings. Not a single cloud marred the azure blue sky. The bright sunlight glistened off gold and brown hills while clumps of green trees dotted the landscape. The vast prairie stretched endlessly. She smiled to herself. She loved the openness—the feeling it brought. No walls to hold her prisoner. No one to tell her what to do, where to go and when. Freedom—what a wonderful word—what a wonderful feeling.
Only the threat of the men following them dampened her spirits, ruining the beauty of the day.
Noises behind her grabbed her attention. She turned to see Wes making a fire. She tethered Jo’s reins to a low-hanging branch of a nearby tree. She found the coffee pot, filled it at the water’s edge, and walked back to the campfire.
“I know it’s a little hot for coffee,” he said with a smile, “but I’ve got a hankering for some. How about you?”
As usual, his smile turned her knees to jelly. How could she be attracted to a man who believed her guilty of horrendous crimes? And who was with her only to glean information from her? But his smile drew an answering one. “No thanks.”
“We’ll camp here about an hour to let the horses have a breather.”
“You mean so I can have a breather?”
Another dazzling smile. “Yeah, you too. Why don’t you get some rest?”
“I think I will.” Then, remembering the three men following them, a frown touched her lips. “Do you think it’s safe?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep guard.”
She nodded. There was no doubt in her mind that U.S. Marshall Wes Cooper could take care of himself—and her. After finding a soft grassy spot, Naomi sprawled on the ground, leaned back against a tree trunk, and closed her eyes. With conscious effort, she forced all thought from her mind. Within minutes, she was asleep.
Immediately, the dream came again. Confined by its jagged edges, Naomi fought it, yet couldn’t free herself of its shackles. At the same time, she looked for that elusive message she was convinced it contained. Voices came out of the darkness of her mind, sending shivers running down her spine. Blood was everywhere, the floor, her clothes. She heard Roy call out to her, warning her, telling her she was in danger. Then his image faded. “Roy…wait, don’t go…please wait.”
“Naomi, wake up. You’re dreaming.”
Strong hands shook her. “No, no. Don’t go.”
“Naomi, it’s me. Wes.”
She forced her eyes open. Wes knelt beside her. “What—?”
“You were dreaming.”
Then she remembered. “Yes, yes, I was.” She rubbed her eyes, trying to slow her racing pulse. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for.” He stood and stretched his hand out to her. “Time to ride.”
She grabbed his hand, his flesh warm against hers. He pulled her to her feet. “How long did I sleep?”
“Close to an hour, but not a very restful sleep I’m afraid.”
Naomi glanced at the distant hills. “What about our friends?”
“Not a peep out of them, but I’m pretty sure they’re still out there.”
“How do you know that?”
He shrugged. “I just know it, that’s all.” He motioned at the coffee pot. “You want some coffee?”
“No thanks. Just some water.” She walked to her horse and grabbed her canteen. Even though the water was tepid, it refreshed her. As she climbed into the saddle, Wes poured the rest of the coffee onto the fire and kicked dirt over it. He vaulted into the saddle and led the way out onto the trail.
About an hour later, he slowed his horse until she was at his side. “You okay, Mrs. Brecker?”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “So it’s Mrs. Brecker now?” When he didn’t respond, she massaged her pounding temples. “I’m fine, just a little bit of a headache, but I thank you for asking.”
“Must have been a pretty bad nightmare. You were screaming, thrashing around—calling out your husband’s name.”
Naomi knew he was fishing for more information, so she played dumb. “Was I? I never seem to remember the dreams.”
“How long you been having them?”
She locked gazes with him. “Oh, I reckon it to be about three years now.”
“I see.” He pointed at the ridge. “They’re back, getting more brazen by the minute.”
Naomi glanced in the direction he pointed. Three riders silhouetted darkly against the blue sky sent her heart pounding. “If they’re trying to spook me, they’re doing a damn good job.” She glanced at Wes, studying his strong profile. “They’re like vultures, circling and waiting...waiting.”
“They do seem to be waiting…on something…or someone.”
Naomi sucked in a deep breath. “But who would they be waiting on? Why?”
“Don’t know. It’s just a hunch.” He angled in the saddle, glanced over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping the area. “Haven’t seen any sign of anyone else though.”
“But who would it be?” she persisted.
He shrugged. “Hard to say. Your husband had a lot of unsavory friends.”
“So you keep reminding me.” She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice but failed. “Like I told you, I don’t know any of them.” Hot tears scalded her cheeks. She swiped her hand across her face, hating her weakness. “I don’t know where the money is, I swear it.”
“Maybe you do, but you just don’t realize it.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Maybe you heard Roy say something, or saw something, maybe you just didn’t understand what it was, maybe you read something…”
“You’re as bad as them. Just leave me alone.” She kicked the mare with her heels, sending her mount surging forward.
“Naomi, wait. That’s what they want to do—spook you into making a mistake. Come back.”
As his words sank into her confused mind, she slowed her horse and glanced up at the ridge. It was empty. When he caught up to her, she sent him an apologetic look. “You’re right. That was a very stupid thing to do. You just made me angry. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’ve been through a lot the last couple of years. I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
“Yes,” she sent him a tearful grin, “you should be.”
***
Wes’s admiration for Naomi again edged up a notch. She’d fought her emotions to keep a level head about her—and had won the battle. The more he was around her, the more he began to believe in her innocence.
Or she was the best damned actress he’d ever seen.
The riders up on the rim had disappeared, their absence sending the hair on the back of his neck straight up. He pulled his rifle from the boot, checked the ammunition, then did the same with his revolver. Beside him, Naomi followed suit.
“We’ll be in the foothills tonight,” he said. “We’ll start looking early for a place to hole up and make camp. We need to find one to cover our backs—so they can only come at us one way.”
“Makes sense.”
Her voice shook, and he glanced at her. She was trying so hard to put on a brave front. Roy Brecker had definitely been a fool.
By late afternoon, he’d found the perfect spot to defend. A cavern etched into the base of the mountain proved to be ideal. A small rockslide had covered one side and a portion of the front, leaving only two areas to defend. In the back, water dripped from the stones, forming a clear pool.
“We’ll eat early,” he told Naomi, “so we won’t have to light a fire later and give them a better target. There’s some dried branches right outside if you’ll get them while I take care of the horses.
“All right.”
“Just don’t wander off. Stay where I can see you.”
She sent him a shaky grin. “Believe me, I won’t go far.”
After she left, Wes watered the horses, then tethered them in the back where gunfire wouldn’t spook them—and where they couldn’t be stolen. Hearing a noise behind him, his hand went to his gun. Naomi entered the cavern, her arms full of firewood, a smudge of dirt on her face. When he caught her gaze, he nodded at a small clearing between a jumble of rocks. In minutes, he set coffee to brew, put bacon in the pan, and opened a can of beans. He knelt by the fire, ladled food onto a plate, and handed it to her. “Not much of a meal. I had hoped to get us some fresh meat, maybe a rabbit or two.”
“It’ll do,” she answered with a shrug of her slim shoulders. “Any meal I have out here, with no prison bars, is a good meal.”
“I guess so.” He filled another plate, stood, and ambled to the entrance. As he scanned the area, he ate quickly. “We might get lucky tonight—the moon’s full. They won’t be able to get close to us without showing their ugly mugs.”