Dakota Cowboy. Linda Ford

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Название Dakota Cowboy
Автор произведения Linda Ford
Жанр Исторические любовные романы
Серия
Издательство Исторические любовные романы
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      The pair of them seemed to think a walking glue factory was a wondrous gift. It amazed him. Delighted him. Filled him with admiration for the kind of spunk his Lucy showed.

      His? Was his brain addled from surprise and too much laughter? She wasn’t his. Never would be. She had only agreed to accompany him because she needed to get away from Smitty. Would she stay on the ranch any longer than it took to say “Hello, Father. Goodbye, Father.?” Then reality hit him square between his eyes. Lucy couldn’t ride away after a hurried goodbye. Not until Smitty had been locked behind bars. The idea of that man posing a threat to Lucy or Roy made his fists coil.

      They inched across the flat prairie. Although he took a circuitous route that kept him away from town, he felt as exposed as the sun. His skin itched at how easy it would be for someone to spot them and ride after them. Running from pursuers was impossible. But getting back to Dry Creek and catching the train was equally impossible. By the time they got there, Smitty would have every way in and out of town guarded by one of his cohorts.

      He pulled up. “This ain’t going to work.”

      Lucy’s shoulders drew back. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

      He chuckled at her determination. “You planning to push that nag all the way across Dakota?”

      Her eyes sparkled. “Now, how gentlemanly would that be? If someone is to push…” She left the rest unsaid. But he understood her message. If anyone had to do the pushing, she expected it to be him.

      He eyed the tired old horse. “I could try riding her. Maybe I could convince her to go a little faster. Otherwise, we’ll be spending the winter out in the open plain.”

      Lucy scowled. “You’d whip her, I suppose?”

      Roy dropped to the ground and rushed to the old nag’s side. “You can’t hit her. She can’t help if she’s old.”

      “Don’t suppose either of you thought to bring wheels?”

      Two pairs of eyes regarded him suspiciously.

      “The way I see it…” He pushed his hat back on his head and leaned over the saddle horn as if contemplating one of the universe’s darkest mysteries. “Either we plan to inch across the prairie—easy for anybody to see us, easier for them to chase us down—or we put wheels under that thing and I’ll drag her.”

      “’Course we didn’t bring any wheels.”

      He sighed. “I feared that might be your answer. Like I said, this isn’t going to work.”

      They all stared at the horse.

      “She happen to have a name?” Somehow, it might be easier to deal with her if she was more than a nameless pile of skin draped over protruding bones.

      Roy wrapped his arm around the sorry animal’s head. “’Course she has a name. It’s Queenie. ’Cause she’s like a queen.” His tone dared Wade to question the name.

      In order to restrain his laughter, Wade drew his lips in tight hoping he looked thoughtful. He slanted a look at Lucy and when he saw her eyes brimming with merriment, he had to bite the inside of his lip.

      But their lack of speed was no laughing matter. They had to find some other way of getting across this open land. He studied the landscape trying to come up with a solution. Wheels were not the answer. Unless…he stared southwest. “We’ll go that way.”

      “We aren’t going back, are we?”

      “Lucy, we’re going to find some wheels.”

      “Who’s going to push?”

      “The iron horse.”

      “A train?”

      “Yup.” He’d planned on catching the new SOO line that was direct to Minot and from there they would ride. But if he dropped down to the Northern Pacific line and the less direct route, it might serve their purpose even better, make it a little harder for any pursuers to know for sure where they were headed. And the line was considerably closer if his reckoning was right.

      Lucy brightened faster than the sun that now sat several degrees above the horizon, promising another searing day.

      Wade eyed the flat land. Being out on the unprotected prairie didn’t seem like the best plan a man could devise. “Come on, Roy. Climb on.” He reached out a hand.

      “Will we get breakfast when we get there? I’m awfully hungry.”

      “Roy, you’re always hungry.” Lucy’s tone warned him not to complain.

      Wade lifted the boy to the back of his horse. “I’m feeling kind of hollow myself. I’m sure we’ll be able to rustle up something.” If he was correct they should connect about the same place as the little town of Anders. They’d find food there. Plus water and relief from the unrelenting heat.

      Three hours later, the heat shimmered unmercifully and between them they had downed his entire supply of water.

      Wade began to wonder if they’d missed the line entirely and were doomed to wither into nothingness in the baked grass.

      Chapter Four

      The hat Lucy wore did little to provide adequate shade. The sun was unrelenting, threatening to bake the three of them. She’d watched Roy swallow the last of the water what seemed an hour ago but was likely only a few minutes. Roy had long since stopped complaining about hunger. He no longer mentioned the heat. In fact, he looked about ready to perish. And she felt the same. Did Wade have any idea where they were or was he, as she suspected, only guessing? She kicked Queenie mercilessly until she rode at Wade’s side. “How much farther?”

      “Can’t be far.”

      “Seems I heard that a time or two already.”

      “It’s closer than last time you asked.”

      She sighed mightily, too hot to hide her worry. “So is Christmas. I’m wondering which will get here first.”

      “I ’spect we would have been there by now except we have to move at a snail’s pace thanks to Queenie there.” Sarcasm edged his words. “A mistake if I ever saw one.”

      “Would you suggest we should have hung around making detailed plans until Smitty found us?”

      “’Course not. But next time steal a fast horse.”

      Roy tipped sideways and Wade caught him. “Hang on, Roy, we’re almost there.”

      “We’re already there.” Lucy’s lips pursed as she spoke. “Which is where? Lost in the middle of nowhere. Going round in circles waiting for the buzzards to find us.”

      “We ain’t lost. We ain’t going in circles.”

      “I suppose you mean that to be comforting? It’s not.”

      “Look yonder.” He pointed.

      She squinted into the distance. “Nothing but more heat waves and endless grass.”

      “Right down on the horizon. See. A water tower. It’s our destination.”

      She finally located it. Her whole insides kicked with new hope. She checked over her shoulder and allowed herself to relax when she saw no dust trailing in their direction. “Roy, hear that? We’re almost there. Thank God.”

      Roy stirred himself. “I’m thirsty.”

      Wade patted Roy’s leg. “There’ll be water there. And food.”

      Now that her inner knot of concern had relaxed, Lucy’s conscience smote her. Wade had led them to safety. And she’d been snippy about how long it took when really she had only one party to blame— Queenie, the slowest moving horse this side of eternity. “Wade, I’m sorry for being impatient.”

      He slowed