watched her like a friend, same as ’Gade.
“I’ll tend Snap,” she muttered, waiting and worrying.
His smile was slow, the same one she’d seen that morning in the wagon. She relaxed somewhat. Truly it was not the smile of a sly man who’d discovered her dark secrets and planned to turn her in.
“Pleased if you do, Mary,” he said with the gentle voice she’d heard when he rescued her on the trail.
He was still using his ma’s name for her, and his eyes didn’t look upon her like their kiss had made her a soiled dove.
Her heart warmed and her nerves settled, and she smiled right back.
Then her heart stopped. With eyes that changed to hard black pebbles, Redd’s gaze raked her like she was fish-innards. She knew he knew who she really was. Knew she was worth one hundred dollars alive or dead.
Money a man could use for a decent plot of land. And someday, support a decent woman.
“Good afternoon, Miz Perkins. Or would you allow me to call you Jessy Belle?”
A decent woman that could never be her.
****
Redd glared the scout’s glare that always got him his way. No need to speak another word to the little thief, liar. Fraud.
But her face paled so white his heart couldn’t stop a tug.
“Redd? Mister Redd, it’s not what you....” she whispered, slowly leading Snap toward the barn, him alongside. “I mean, I reckoned you’d figure me out. Recognize me somehow, on your rambles.”
She cast her gaze to her toes. The warm wind rustled her lovely hair, unbound but tied back with an ugly little scarf like the other sisters wore. His fingers itched to wind in it. “Thank you for keeping your word.”
“How’s that?” He raised his eyebrows. Still she didn’t look at him, and he could barely hear.
“You coming back to explain things, first. Whatever you found out. You promised.”
Redd tipped his brim, anger, heat, betrayal swamping his shoulders. Shame, too. He’d given his honor to protect something that was criminal and loathsome, not helpless at all. “Don’t get too comfy. It’s not going to last long. There’s a reward on your head.”
“You’ll turn me in?”
In front of him he could sense her knees collapsing, so he grabbed her. Ground-tethered Snap. Hauled her to a wretched hitching post to lean on. Not gentle, teeth grinding hard at the heat assaulting his fingers upon touching her arm, even through the cloth of her sleeve.
“I’m ever a man for justice and minding the law.” His hard words smacked his own ears.
“But it’s not what you think.” She clutched the crosspiece hard, and little slivers of blood seeped from her thumb. The knife wound had yet to close. Otherwise she seemed a good distance more hale and hearty from what he’d come across yesterday.
Redd gave out a snort. “I think it’s exactly what I think, Miz Jessy Belle. You’re a horse thief who got hung for it. Who cut you down, anyway?”
Now she raised her eyes to heaven, clasping her fingers tight in a ball at her waist. Hell, had she learned to pray while he was gone?
“Nobody,” she whispered.
“Like hell.” He didn’t mind the cuss and didn’t say sorry. She wasn’t a nun or a lady. Nothing but an outlaw.
“It’s true.” She glared at him, then wrestled her arms behind herself, whether to stop from punching him or from touching him like she’d done when he left. The memory stirred something deep inside. Not only the crotch of his denims but also his heart. He hated both sensations. “Nobody helped me, Redd. It’s a trick Ahab taught me.”
With some fascination, he watched her pull her hair into a twist, then she reached for the knife at his belt, stabbed it into the blond mound. “I always had a knife in my boot. I hid it in my hair like that, wrapped my neck in canvas strips. I was wearing ’em when I got caught. To keep my chest flat as a boy.”
Her face turned a pretty purple, and he hardened his heart again, forced the memory of her bosom from his head.
“Even me
“I’ll tend Snap,” she muttered, waiting and worrying.
His smile was slow, the same one she’d seen that morning in the wagon. She relaxed somewhat. Truly it was not the smile of a sly man who’d discovered her dark secrets and planned to turn her in.
“Pleased if you do, Mary,” he said with the gentle voice she’d heard when he rescued her on the trail.
He was still using his ma’s name for her, and his eyes didn’t look upon her like their kiss had made her a soiled dove.
Her heart warmed and her nerves settled, and she smiled right back.
Then her heart stopped. With eyes that changed to hard black pebbles, Redd’s gaze raked her like she was fish-innards. She knew he knew who she really was. Knew she was worth one hundred dollars alive or dead.
Money a man could use for a decent plot of land. And someday, support a decent woman.
“Good afternoon, Miz Perkins. Or would you allow me to call you Jessy Belle?”
A decent woman that could never be her.
****
Redd glared the scout’s glare that always got him his way. No need to speak another word to the little thief, liar. Fraud.
But her face paled so white his heart couldn’t stop a tug.
“Redd? Mister Redd, it’s not what you....” she whispered, slowly leading Snap toward the barn, him alongside. “I mean, I reckoned you’d figure me out. Recognize me somehow, on your rambles.”
She cast her gaze to her toes. The warm wind rustled her lovely hair, unbound but tied back with an ugly little scarf like the other sisters wore. His fingers itched to wind in it. “Thank you for keeping your word.”
“How’s that?” He raised his eyebrows. Still she didn’t look at him, and he could barely hear.
“You coming back to explain things, first. Whatever you found out. You promised.”
Redd tipped his brim, anger, heat, betrayal swamping his shoulders. Shame, too. He’d given his honor to protect something that was criminal and loathsome, not helpless at all. “Don’t get too comfy. It’s not going to last long. There’s a reward on your head.”
“You’ll turn me in?”
In front of him he could sense her knees collapsing, so he grabbed her. Ground-tethered Snap. Hauled her to a wretched hitching post to lean on. Not gentle, teeth grinding hard at the heat assaulting his fingers upon touching her arm, even through the cloth of her sleeve.
“I’m ever a man for justice and minding the law.” His hard words smacked his own ears.
“But it’s not what you think.” She clutched the crosspiece hard, and little slivers of blood seeped from her thumb. The knife wound had yet to close. Otherwise she seemed a good distance more hale and hearty from what he’d come across yesterday.
Redd gave out a snort. “I think it’s exactly what I think, Miz Jessy Belle. You’re a horse thief who got hung for it. Who cut you down, anyway?”
Now she raised her eyes to heaven, clasping her fingers tight in a ball at her waist. Hell, had she learned to pray while he was gone?
“Nobody,” she whispered.
“Like hell.” He didn’t mind the cuss and didn’t say sorry. She wasn’t a nun or a lady. Nothing but an outlaw.
“It’s true.” She glared at him, then wrestled her arms behind herself, whether to stop from punching him or from touching him like she’d done when he left. The memory stirred something deep inside. Not only the crotch of his denims but also his heart. He hated both sensations. “Nobody helped me, Redd. It’s a trick Ahab taught me.”
With some fascination, he watched her pull her hair into a twist, then she reached for the knife at his belt, stabbed it into the blond mound. “I always had a knife in my boot. I hid it in my hair like that, wrapped my neck in canvas strips. I was wearing ’em when I got caught. To keep my chest flat as a boy.”
Her face turned a pretty purple, and he hardened his heart again, forced the memory of her bosom from his head.
“Even me
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