The Redhead and the Preacher: A Loveswept Historical Romance by Sandra Chastain

clothes?”
    She knew he could feel her muscles contract beneath his touch and feared that he’d misunderstand. She was sure of it when he said, “Perhaps it would be better if you stayed with Jenks. I can travel faster without you.”
    “Stay here?” She was torn. She couldn’t be sure about the bank robbers and Jenks needed her. But her feelings about allowing the stranger to walk off across the prairie alone was even more worrisome.
    “No, lass,” Jenks said. “You go with him. He might needhelp. If somebody doesn’t get to the station, we’re all lost. I’ll wait for you.”
    Rationally, Macky knew that he would make better time alone, but irrationally something stopped her from allowing him to go.
    “Make up your mind, Trouble. Do you stay or go?”
    Jenks was right. She’d done what she could for him. Making certain that someone got to the way station was what he needed now. “I’ll go. Are you ready to leave?”
    Bran looked at her. “You have any long pants in that case of yours?”
    “Why?”
    “You’d make better time if you weren’t wearing a skirt.”
    Macky knew he was right. But if it was Pratt who attacked the stagecoach he’d be more likely to recognize her if she were dressed in the clothes she’d worn back in Promise. She couldn’t risk discarding her skirt and she couldn’t be too curious about the outlaws.
    “Don’t worry. I won’t slow you down.”
    They gathered as much brush as they could, leaving Jenks surrounded by brambles. Finally, satisfied that he had enough to stay warm, Bran took a long look at his traveling companion. He hoped he wasn’t making a big mistake. “All right, let’s move out.”
    Macky lifted her portmanteau and started to follow.
    “You’re not planning to drag that along,” he said, taking the carrying case from her hand, surprised at the weight.
    “Of course I am. I’ll carry it.”
    “Don’t be foolish. You’ll never be able to keep up. Besides, who do you plan to dress for? There’s only me and, I assure you, I don’t care what you wear.”
    Macky blushed. She knew he was right. But she couldn’t abandon the money. How would she return the part of the money she didn’t have a claim to?
    Bran’s expression dared her to argue. “If you can’t wear it, you’ll have to leave it behind.”
    Macky grabbed on to that idea. “Just a minute.” Shedragged the case to the outside of the biggest rock and opened it. She stuffed paper money in her pockets and inside her shirt, managing to carry part of it. The rest she’d have to leave until someone could return for Jenks.
    She tucked a few of the gold coins into the sleeves of her torn blouse and shoved them inside her coat pocket. Then she refastened the case and tugged it back inside the stand of rocks, leaving it beside Jenks.
    “Don’t worry, lass, I’ll keep it for you.”
    “Thanks, Jenks. Well get back for you soon.”
    Moments later she was charging along behind the preacher. Adding the money to her clothing did keep her warmer, but walking through the clumps of prairie grass was hard. It caught in her skirt and slowed her down, making her stumble. Not so, her companion. Even with the head injury he’d refused to let her treat, he set a steady pace that would have daunted most people.
    But Macky kept up.
    The ruts in the trail made a thin brown line across the plains. She set her eyes on the horizon, willing her feet to keep moving. A brisk cold wind swept across the plains, tugging at her hair. She was grateful for the heat of the sun as it climbed higher in the sky.
    In spite of their dire circumstances there was something stimulating in the air, something that made Macky feel at home. The Kansas Territory had become a melting pot of people and ideas. Farmers, bent on escaping the close confines of the East, were pouring down the Overland Trail looking for a new life, fleeing the growing discord between the Northern and Southern states.
    The finding of gold and silver in the