Charlene Sands (10 page)

“Damn it, Emmy. What the hell are you—”

Emma jerked back, startled. “Bodine, you nearly scared the—”

Bodine froze and stared at her.

Heart pounding, she stared back.

“What is it?” she asked, her arms trembling at her sides from his intense scrutiny.

He looked her over, once, twice then drew in a breath. “Nothing.” He glanced at the bed for a lingering moment and met her eyes, speaking in a husky tone, “You about ready?”

Emma shivered from the promise in his eyes. A promise he would never fulfill. She broke eye contact, gathered her belongings, including the cash Bodine had granted her, rolled up her old dress then faced him once again, hugging the garment to her chest. “Don’t I look ready?”

“You
look
…you look ready. Let’s go.”

“Fine, we’ll go. I just wish you hadn’t barged into the room scaring me half to death,” she said, then marched right past him, head held high.

Darn him anyway if he couldn’t give a girl a compliment. He’d seen her in rags, her hair disheveled for days, and the least he could do for her efforts was to comment in a pleasing way.

Joseph had no such trouble. “Miss Emma,” he said as she entered the shop once again and approached the counter, “The dress suits you. You look very nice.”

“Thank you, Joseph. I appreciate the use of your home. How much do I owe you?”

Joseph had a list all ready for her. “It comes to fourteen dollars even.”

Emma handed him the cash then noted the glass jars filled with candies, and her mouth simply watered. “Please add in some gumdrops and licorice sticks to my order.”

Joseph wrapped several pieces up and handed the package to her. “These are for you,” he said, “at no charge.”

“Why, thank you. That’s very kind.”

Bodine walked up to the counter to stand right beside Emma. “You have the supplies I asked for?” he asked Joseph.

“Yes, sir,” he said, “everything’s in this package.” Bodine grabbed the package, sliding it under his arm then took up the pencil on the counter and wrote something onto the notepad.

“This note is for Big Ed Minton,” he said. “I appreciate you seeing he gets it when he gets back.” He put a bill on the counter. “This is for your trouble,” he said, before setting another bill down. “And this is for the lady’s candy.”

Emma wanted to die of mortification. But causing a fuss just now would surely create more trouble, and poor Joseph looked flustered enough as it was. Even from under his beard, she saw his face flame.

“Yes, sir. I’ll see that he gets the note.”

He sent a tentative smile Emma’s way and she could only wave her farewell with apology in her eyes.

Once outside, the brisk air hit her anew. Immediately, she put her coat back on. She’d almost forgotten how the cold could set into her bones, but she was grateful for the sunshine fighting off the chill in the air.

“Should warm up soon,” Bodine said, “being that it’s nearly noon already. Wasted the whole morning.”

“I don’t think of it as a waste, Bodine. And I’m appalled at how you treat people. Joseph was only being kind to me.”

Bodine shrugged. “You’re not the best judge of character, Emmy.”

Emma’s ire sparked. “You know…I think you’re right. At least in your case, it is. So as soon as we get to Bridgeton, we’ll set off on separate paths.”

Bodine walked over to Lola and waited. “Suit yourself, Emmy.”

Emma tossed her package to him and waited as he tied both his and hers to the back of the saddle. He turned from Lola to face her. “But for now, you need me.”

“As transportation.” She set her features firm. “Nothing more.”

Bodine tightened his jaw. He nodded. “Glad we finally agree on something.”

Emma’s heart ached. She’d actually begun to fall in love with Bodine. Now she could barely stand to look at him. He wasn’t the man she thought he was.

Or maybe he was, and that’s what hurt the most.

He was a man who’d pledged himself to another woman.

T
hey’d made it only halfway to Bridgeton before nightfall. Bodine wasn’t thrilled about having to make camp another night on the road and sleep beside Emmy in the bedroll.

She’d been stiff as a washboard on Lola, refusing to speak to him which, at this point, was probably for the best. Emmy’s contrary behavior back in Oakhurst had rankled him. He knew she’d done it deliberately, wasting time on purpose and being coy with that young shopkeeper.

Hell, he hadn’t meant to hurt her this week. He’d been a damn fool, letting her mesmerizing voice and those big brown eyes get in the way of his job. Now they both were paying the price. Emmy didn’t have a clue as to why he was sticking close to her and he’d have to find a way to keep her from discovering the truth.

It galled him to no end that every day she remained stubbornly set on her goal was one more day he couldn’t track down his brother’s killer. Metcalf was going to pay for murdering Josh and making Rachel a widow.

When they came to a small clearing surrounded by concealing brush, Bodine reined in Lola. “We’ll make camp here.”

Emmy shrugged her shoulders with a dispassionate sigh.

Bodine dismounted and led Lola to a thick oak tree where he tied her reins to a branch. He looked up at Emma, waiting. She sat quiet as a mouse in the saddle, refusing to spare him a glance. He wasn’t about to pull her from the horse forcefully. “Fine. Sit up there all night, Emmy. I’ll probably get a better night’s sleep.”

He turned his back on her and searched for broken branches and sticks to make a fire. From behind he heard her struggling to get down. He refused to watch, but the sound of Lola’s feet shuffling then Emmy’s bottom plopping on the ground tickled his funny bone.

“Ouch!”

He chuckled.

“What’s so darn funny, Bodine?”

He turned to find her rising from the ground, brushing dirt off her backside. Back at Fender’s place, she looked pretty as picture wearing pink calico with her shiny hair all combed and fussed with. Bodine’s mouth had gone dry then and he had fought off jealous urges when young Joseph’s eyes had bugged out of his head. But now, with the shrewish scowl on her face, Bodine could relax some. As long as she kept that bitter look on her face, he’d be fine.

“You made Lola jittery. She couldn’t figure out what you were doing,” he said, amused.

“I was trying to dismount, since you were too bad mannered to help me.”

He grabbed some dry branches from the ground and then faced her. The sun faded on the horizon and yellowgold light framed her body in a glow that Bodine could only name as angelic. Thank God, for the stubborn look on her face. “Don’t play games with me and we’ll get along just fine.”

“I wasn’t playing any sort of game with you, Bodine.”

“I was there to help you dismount, but you refused my help, Emmy. I only offer my services once. To anyone. After that, you’re on your own. Remember that.”

Emmy scowled once again. Little did she know that he relished her cold, angry appearance. It helped him forget how good she had felt in his arms, the perfection of those small uplifted breasts and the compelling allure of the ballads she sang.

“I’ll be on my own soon as we get to Bridgeton,” she stated with hands on hips. “We won’t have to see each other again.”

Bodine didn’t answer her. He
had
to see her again to keep his promise to Eloisa Rourke and earn the money he needed to set Rachel and the baby up for a lifetime. Bodine would have to relinquish his vocation as a bounty hunter. He’d always believed it was what he was meant to do, but the sacrifice would be worth it. Bodine felt he’d failed Josh, and giving his brother’s wife and child the life they deserved would be the one sure way Bodine could repay him.

Bodine struck a match and lit the fire he’d built. The flames roared to life and Bodine lifted his head to find Emmy stroking Lola’s mane, speaking softly to her, cuddling her face into the mare’s neck.

He approached.

“I didn’t make you jittery, did I, Miss Lola?” Emmy’s sweet words flowed like warm molasses.

Something tugged at Bodine’s heart. “She can’t know what you’re saying.”

Emmy whirled around. “I think she does. She can tell from my tone and my touch how I feel about her.”

Bodine recalled Emmy’s touch on his skin and the tone of her voice when she was fully enthralled. He’d known what that had meant and he couldn’t allow it. He blocked the image out. “Maybe. But she’ll be a hell of lot more grateful to me once I unload the saddlebags and take off this saddle. Though you’re light as a feather, she’s been carrying the weight of both us and needs a rest.”

“I know she does,” Emmy said softly before she removed the saddlebags. They weighed her down some, but she managed to bring them over to the fire.

“Why don’t you get a meal started,” he said to her, “while I comb her down. There’s beans and jerky inside the saddlebag. Coffee, too. And some leftover biscuits.”

Bodine walked to a saddlebag, lifted out a bag of oats and proceeded to let the hungry mare eat her well-deserved meal. After that, he worked on her coat, combing her down and checking her shoes for any thorns or small pebbles that could lodge in them. Once done, he stroked her along her nose, running his hand up and down, then gave her a firm pat on the behind, before returning to the fire.

“Coffee’s ready.” Emmy handed him a cup. She sat on the rolled-up blanket while Bodine took a place on a nearby rock.

“Want some?” He offered her his mug.

“No, thanks. I’ll have some water.” She sipped from a canteen.

Beans heated in a small pan over the fire and biscuits warmed on rocks nearby. The air became increasingly cooler and, as they ate, the sun disappeared entirely, leaving them in complete darkness but for the firelight.

“Why don’t you tell me more about Grant Harper?” he asked, suddenly curious about the man who intended to marry her.

Emmy appeared surprised, her brows lifting while she moved beans around on her plate with a spoon. “I will, if you tell me about Rachel.”

“I told you all about her. She’s my brother’s widow, that’s all.”

“Is she pretty?”

Bodine pictured Rachel in his mind. She was a true beauty, with the bluest eyes and hair the color of corn silk. Josh had been taken with her from the instant he spotted her coming out of the diner where she’d worked. And he’d spent the next month having his meals there, getting to know her, charming her until she’d finally agreed to marry him.

Bodine bit off a chunk of jerky, chewed his food slowly and took time with his answer. “I suppose. The truth is, she was Josh’s wife, my sister-in-law. That’s how I thought of her. What of Grant Harper?”

“Why are you so interested?” She rounded her eyes on him.

He rubbed his jaw and the stubble that would soon be scraped clean. “You got anything better to talk about?”

She’d been so dang quiet all afternoon that Bodine thought a bit of talk would help settle them both back into civility. Besides, he needed a chance to persuade her to go back home, and the sooner the better.

“Grant is a friend. I’ve already told you that. We used to play together as children. We’d been schooled together and when we got older, I guess he sort of assumed that I loved him the way he loved me.”

“And you don’t love him?”

Emmy set her plate down. She looked past the firelight and into the darkness. “I do. I love him as a dear friend. He’s pleasant, kind and a true gentleman.”

Whether she meant it that way or not, Bodine felt the subtle gibe. “What does the
gentleman
do?” he asked, a little peeved and more curious now than he had a right to be.

“He’s a banker. He runs the First Fresno Bank.” There was a note of pride in her voice when she turned to look him square in the eyes.

“A little young for that, wouldn’t you say?”

“His father passed on the position to him. Grant’s very intelligent and a hard worker.”

“So why’d you leave him?”

Emmy turned to stare at him. “You know why.”

“I know you’re chasing your father.”

Her eyes filled with wonder and a sense of true yearning. “I’m also chasing a dream. I want to entertain, Bodine. I want to be up on stage and sing my heart out. It’s inside me and needs to get out. My mama never got that chance. But I’m taking mine.”

Bodine understood her motives for running away from home now. Small wonder Eloisa Rourke had hired him. She’d known all along what Emmy wanted from life and she’d also known the hard road her granddaughter would have ahead of her. Bodine couldn’t fault Emmy for pursuing her dreams. She had a rare gift, but he wasn’t being paid to agree or disagree. He was being paid to protect. “Harper wouldn’t allow you to do that?”

Her wistful expression changed and a determined look crossed her features. “I don’t know. I never asked him. This is something I need to do on my own.”

“Seems to me, a woman should be satisfied having such a gentleman willing to marry her. Why, you could be sleeping in a big soft bed instead of the hard ground, eating good food instead of hardtack and beans, and making a houseful of babies.”

“A houseful?” Her eyes lit with amusement and she laughed, the sound rich and inviting.

Bodine felt he was losing ground. “Isn’t that what all women want?”

Emmy rolled her eyes. “Maybe most, but not me. At least not right now. Besides, I’m not like most women.”

Bodine wouldn’t venture to comment. Harper wasn’t the only man who had some intelligence.

He sipped his coffee, the bitter brew tasting cold and unappealing. He nearly spit it out but managed a swallow, downing it with a big gulp. “Damn it all to high heaven,” he muttered under his breath.

Emma grinned now, not trying in the least to hide her glee. “Hard being a gentleman, isn’t it?”

Bodine looked at her smiling face, those brown eyes glittering like a schoolgirl who’d just bested the teacher’s pet and he couldn’t find any anger. His mouth quirked up and he let out a big belly laugh. She joined him, her sweet laughter mingling with his.

It felt better than he could’ve imagined, letting go and enjoying a moment of mirth with Miss Emma Marie Rourke. And when the laughter died down, he continued to look into her eyes, his heart taking a bit of a tumble.

He couldn’t allow these warm feelings to come through. She’d caught him unawares and always managed to surprise him. But her place wasn’t beside him and it never would be. She had a beau to return to and, as much as it irked him to admit it, Emmy deserved a good man like Grant Harper.

“Sure would be best if you went back home, Emmy.” Bodine felt a measure of regret for destroying the good mood, but it had to be said.

Her joy disappeared and she took a moment before setting her expression with stubborn resolve. “No, Bodine. Not until I settle what’s in my heart. I feel empty inside right now, like I’ve been missing the best part of myself. I
need
to do this. And you know, I think my grandmother understands that, in her own way.”

Eloisa did understand her adventurous nature. Emmy had a way of getting herself in trouble and it was a darn good thing her grandmother had seen fit to hire him to protect her.

As soon as they reached Bridgeton, he’d send Mrs. Rourke a wire, alerting her to the news that her granddaughter was set and determined to continue on.

Bodine would be only steps behind.

Emmy sang as she cleaned the few utensils she’d used for the meal, a silly song about cows in the pasture and rabbits in the garden, her face alight with pleasure as she worked. Bodine couldn’t deny that Emmy had talent and that she seemed most content when she was lifting her voice in song. Trouble was, he felt most content listening to her.

“I’ll be back,” he said without explanation. “I won’t go far.”

Emmy peered at him and then shifted her focus back to her task. “All right.”

There were times when each needed privacy for nature’s call and Bodine let her believe this was one such time.

He took off for a walk, staying close enough to the campsite to keep her safe from harm, but far enough away to keep her safe from
him.

They’d bed down together again tonight to share the blanket and the warmth of the fire, but this time, Bodine wouldn’t succumb to temptation.

Not that Emmy would invite any affection. She’d been clearly hurt and confused by his admission last night. He wasn’t a free man and he’d finally convinced her that further involvement wouldn’t do either of them any good.

Bodine pulled a cheroot from his pocket and set it between his lips. Once lit, he inhaled and blew out smoke, listening to the subtle sounds of her voice. Even from this distance, her songs touched him and reminded him of happier times in his life.

He yanked his slicker to his ears, pulled his hat lower on his head, blocking out her voice the best he could, and concentrated on his plan to locate Rusty Metcalf.

Nearly an hour passed and the night became eerily quiet but for the evergreens rustling in the breeze. Emmy had stopped singing. Wary now, he headed back to the campsite, drawing his revolver. As he stepped from the darkness into the circle of light, he stared down the barrel of a shotgun and came face-to-face with the shooter.