Randee Hollis sat in Sheriff Brody Wade’s squeaky chair and impatiently waited for his return from the hotel. He had gone to pick up the food which he had ordered from Mrs. Scott for their private dinner. The room was small and cluttered between the cell and the front door, and looked as if it could use a good scrubbing from ceiling to floor. A smelly cigar—which wasn’t Brody’s—had been mashed recently into a clay bowl on the scarred wooden desk, and its remains continued to send foul odors into the stuffy air. Above the desk, light flickered depressingly from a grimy lantern, the only one lit in the office. She was certain Brody would have arranged a thorough cleaning if he’d been given the time, as these surroundings were hardly conducive to the romance which he so obviously had in mind for tonight.
Randee sighed heavily in the empty office. She wasn’t behind the bars, but she felt oddly confined. The urge to jump up and run out plagued her, but it was an impulse to which she knew she couldn’t yield. She was tense and weary, and she didn’t want to be here. Yet, to avoid suspicions and problems, she knew she had to go through with this evening and had to act natural. Natural, she fretted. What was normal behavior for such circumstances? Things were different tonight; she was different! Why ever had she suggested this stupid picnic? She knew why. In her attempts to be kind to Brody before leaving town and to mislead him about her scheme, she had come up with this foolish idea.
Lively music from the saloon reached her ears, but. did not lift her dragging spirits. She listened to other sounds from the street: horses’ movements and soft whinnies, muffled talk, laughter, quarrels, enticements to cowboys from the working girls, the barking of dogs, and the slamming of doors. Through open windows, she inhaled the scents which accompanied those sounds: food, tobacco, dust, leather, sweat, horseflesh, and more. How she wished she were on the ranch, near a serene pond, beneath a setting sun and rising moon, lying on a blanket with … She cautioned herself to get Marsh Logan off her mind so she could deal properly with Brody Wade. She was eager to get this meal under way and over with as quickly as possible.
Today she had packed her garments for the impending trip, and stored her remaining clothes with the hotel clerk. After purchasing her stagecoach ticket to Dodge City, she had tried to visit Brody as promised yesterday, but the lawman had been called to the Sharp’s Ranch to settle a land dispute with squatters. She mentally rushed her companion’s return, even though her appetite was nonexistent. She wanted to get to sleep so the night could pass swiftly, for tomorrow she would be on her way to meet Marsh Logan and begin their adventure. Marsh Logan! There he was again, taking over her thoughts and mood!
Randee heard the thudding of Brody’s boots as he hurried across the planked walkway to rejoin her. She returned his broad smile as he entered the office and set the basket down. She watched him close and lock the door, then turn and smile at her again. There was a sparkle in his brown eyes, which reminded her of sunlight dancing on the surface of muddy water. She knew the meaning of that happy sparkle, one which made her feel more guilty about her deception, one which she wasn’t in the mood for tonight.
“You sit down, Dee, and let me get everything ready. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier today and was so late getting back to town. Bill has his ire up about those squatters on his north pasture, If I hadn’t gone out there and talked them into moving on, I think he would have shot them all. Seems to me that his temper gets darker every year.”
Brody cleared his desk, placed a tablecloth over it, and spread out food and dishes. Lastly, he filled two glasses with wine. Grinning, he said, “I got this from the saloon’s secret stock.” After lighting several tall white candles and dousing the smoky lantern, he eyed the makeshift table and said, “I think everything’s ready.”
As he had talked and worked, Randee had wandered around the room instead of taking a seat. The entrapped female had watched the sheriffs actions with mounting dread.
Randee took the chair he pulled out for her, and thanked him. They dined leisurely on slices of tender roast beef, spring vegetables, and hot biscuits with jelly. As Brody feasted happily, Randee forced herself to eat the delicious meal which Mrs. Scott had kindly ‘ prepared. They talked about people and events in the area, except for Indian attacks and the Epson Gang, which Brody said would spoil their “lovely evening.” When the meal was finished, they sipped wine and spoke of the approaching summer with its many local activities.
Finally, to assuage Brody’s worries about her trip, Randee was forced to continue a story about nonexistent relatives. “I haven’t seen my kin in years, sd I don’t know much about them. I got a letter from my aunt and uncle right before I came here. I promised I would visit them this summer, but I really didn’t want to go. Now, it seems best. What are you planning to do while I’m away? Attend all of those barbeques, barn dances, and church socials?”
Brody laughed, then nodded with a playful grimace. “It’s the sheriffs duty to attend each one and keep the peace. Some men get a little drunk and loud, and sometimes they have to be persuaded to leave early or settle down. Nothing will be any fun with you gone.”
Randee mischievously suggested, “I’m sure there are plenty of girls around here who would swoon with pleasure to be your companion for an evening, even if you chose a different one to escort to each function. What better way to fulfill your duty, Sheriff Wade, than by making the local females ecstatically happy? Their parents, too.”
“You wouldn’t get jealous?” he teased with undisguised hope.
She jested, “Only if you woo them during your kind escort. You don’t want to sit alone or stand around on guard all night, and you surely can’t dance alone. There’s no reason for you not to have fun.”
“I’ll think about it,” was Brody’s response. Then he surprised her with a change of topic. “I want to buy a ranch and give up law enforcement by the end of this year. I’ve saved enough money to make a good down payment and to buy a small herd, if the right place comes along. I was raised on a ranch nearby and I miss that life. After the war, I didn’t want to become a cowboy or drover, so I let them talk me into becoming sheriff. Since everything’s furnished for me, I’ve been able to save most of my wages. And I’ve earned a few rewards from bringing in criminals with prices on their heads. I guess I’m just tired of being shot at every week, and tired of having to chase down killers and rustlers, and tired of breaking up saloon fights and jailing drunks. Mostly I’m tired of being responsible for the lives of so many people that I’ve known all my life,” he admitted freely. “These days, I’m mainly burying friends and looking up heirs to their properties. This job’s gotten stale and depressing, Dee. It’s time to give it up.”
Randee saw how troubled he was, so she stopped joking about his attending any social functions. A few times since her arrival, Brody had mentioned going back to ranching one day, but his announcement tonight was unexpected. And meaningful? she wondered. She nodded in understanding. “It’s a terrible job, Brody, but somebody has to do it, and you’ve done it so well. The folk around here love you and respect you, and appreciate your dedication and skills. Don’t feel guilty because you want to give it up and settle down to a peaceful life for a change. You’ve earned that right.”
“I guess it’s just hard because so many people depend on me for safety and survival. It gets to be a heavy burden after a while.”
“Come election time, let them start depending on someone else. You’ve risked your life countless times to serve these people. There’s nothing wrong in turning the task over to someone else.”
Brody’s brown eyes brightened and he sent her a grateful smile. “With so many families leaving because of this trouble with the Epson Gang, I should be able to buy something reasonable. I just hate to take advantage of somebody’s problem or tragedy. But if I don’t buy ‘em out, somebody else will or they’ll have to leave broke. Anyway, I need to wait for a while. It’s too dangerous to begin a new life until that gang is defeated. I wouldn’t want them burning down the place faster than I can build it. All I need is a good wife to work at my side.”
Randee knew what was coming before Brody continued, but there was no way to stop him.
“I want that woman to “be you, Dee. I hope you’ll marry me, or at least accept my proposal, when you return from Ohio. You must know you’re driving me loco with love for you. I want us to settle down, have a family, build a nice spread. I need you, Dee.”
Randee gazed at him for a few minutes. If she told him “no,” he might suspect something about her leaving so soon after the Durango Kid’s arrival and departure. If she told him “yes,” that wouldn’t be right or kind. If she told him “maybe,” he would wait for her return, while assuming her final answer to be “yes.” And she didn’t know how long she would be on the trail with Marsh, or if she’d survive her task. But if they won, Marsh vanished from her life, and she returned to live on the ranch—what about her future here? What about a mate and children? What about Brody Wade and his love for her?
“Brody, I …” she faltered as his loving gaze locked on her apprehensive green one, mutely pleading with her to respond positively. She forged on bravely, “I’m sorry, Brody, but I can’t give you any kind of answer tonight. I don’t know what my feelings are, except that I’m very fond of you. I have so much on my mind right now that I can’t think clearly and fairly about your proposal. I don’t want to take advantage of you by marrying you for the wrong reasons. Presently, I’m scared, I’m alone, I’m vulnerable, I’m … I’m too susceptible to your beautiful plans.”
She covered his right hand with both of hers and halted his interruption. “Wait, let me finish while I have the courage and words because this is very hard for me. Marriage is a serious undertaking; it’s a lifetime commitment. You know all about duties and obligations. It’s scary to take on the responsibilities of husband, home, and family. And it isn’t right to make a man accountable for a family and property if you don’t feel as strongly about them. as he does. I don’t want to marry you to keep from being alone or because marriage is the proper course of action at a certain age. I want and I need more than a ranch partner, more than a father for my children, more than a spinster saver. I have to make certain I love and want to marry only you. With some distance between us and time on my hands, I can decide what’s the best answer for both of us. I promise I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Disappointment showed in Brody’s expression before he smiled and acquiesced, “You’re right, Dee, but it’s hard to wait. I’m so afraid you’ll meet someone else and forget about me. You’re the first woman I’ve loved, the first one I’ve asked to marry me. Actually, you’re the only one I’ve wanted to be around me day and night. You made me happy again. I haven’t felt that way since before the war. I love you, Dee, and I need you in my life.”
Tears glittered in her eyes as she listened to his revealing words. More guilt plagued her until she told herself it wasn’t her fault if she didn’t share his feelings and desires. She knew she was fascinated by Marsh Logan, but there was no future with a notorious gunslinger. What troubled Randee most was knowing that if the Carsons had been killed accidentally and if Marsh Logan hadn’t appeared and if Brody had said these things to her, her answer might have been “yes” tonight.
Soon, she would need someone to help her rebuild the ranch. No, she corrected herself, the ranch didn’t belong to her. One day Dee Carson Hollis Slade would learn of her brother’s death and that valuable inheritance. Randee asked herself if she could build her life around a ranch she didn’t own, the ranch which Payton Slade would claim when he learned about it. If the Carsons failed to write or to answer letters for a long time, her mother would check on the matter. If her mother told her deceitful husband where Randee was … Where would she go then? What would she do alone? Who would protect her from her insidious stepfather? Whatever happened, those were her problems, not Brody Wade’s. Randee didn’t need anyone to take care of her, but she wanted someone special to share her life.
Brody clasped both of her hands between his. “I’m sorry, Dee. I’ve upset you and spoiled a lovely evening. I won’t push you anymore.”
“That isn’t it, Brody. I’m just touched by your feelings for me. You’re such a special man, and I hope my answer can be yes. If it is, I don’t want to live on the Carson Ranch; too much happened there.”
“It’s a marvelous spread, Dee, but I understand. Besides, I want to build my own from scratch. We can choose the spot and plan the house together; then it’ll be just what we want. I’ll keep an eye on the Carson Ranch until you get back, then you can see about selling it. If you like, I can keep my ears open for a buyer while you’re gone.”
“I’d appreciate that, Brody,” was the answer she had to give.
“I want you to be careful on the stage and train, and to have a good time with your kinfolk. I’m glad you dropped that scheme about hiring the Durango Kid. I was worried. He’s sneaky and dangerous, a real bad apple. He walks just a shave inside the law, but one day he’ll slip up and get himself hanged. Some of the cold blooded stories I’ve heard about him would freeze off your ears to hear them.”
Randee almost laughed at the comparison of Marsh Logan to one of the gunman’s intense dislikes. She hoped Marsh’s colorful reputation was just that, a colorful reputation. To change the subject, Randee said, “It was silly to think I could take off after a band of murderers. I was just filled with anguish and fury, and I was upset because they’re getting away with it. Let’s don’t talk about them tonight. It …” Randee was silenced by a loud thudding on the front door. It sounded as if someone was beating on it with a boot.
A man’s voice shouted, “Open up in the jail. Marshal Foley Timms here with a prisoner.”
Randee glanced at Brody, who was scowling and making no attempt to get up and let the marshal inside. The man kicked the door again, harder and louder, and called out, “You in there, Sheriff?”
Brody apologized to her as he slowly got up to respond. He opened the door and asked curtly, “What do you want, Timms?”
The persistent lawman looked surprised by the terse greeting. He peered around Brody and saw the remains of a private dinner with a lovely woman. “Just passing through and need a prisoner locked up for the night. Looks like I came at a bad time, Sheriff Wade. Sorry to disturb you, but I saw a light and thought you might be reading or napping. I suppose I could tie him to a chair in my hotel room.”
Randee saw the opportunity to end this trying evening, so she promptly joined the men at the door. She said, “That isn’t necessary, Marshal Timms. It’s late and I need to get home.” Turning to Brody, she said, “I’ll see you in the morning before the stage leaves”
“You don’t need to leave yet, Dee. Marshal Timms can keep his prisoner at the hotel with him. It won’t be any bother. I’ve done it several times when jails were full, or towns didn’t have one.”
“I have a long and hard journey ahead, Brody. I really should get plenty of rest tonight. And I’m sure Marshal Timms sees enough of criminals during the day without having to sleep with them at night. He’ll probably be overjoyed to sleep with both eyes closed for a change. The dinner was wonderful. Thank you again. We’ll speak in the morning. Good night, Brody. Good night, Marshal Timms.”
“I’ll walk you to the hotel. It’s dark and late,” Brody announced. To Foley Timms, he said, “You know where the keys and cell are.”
At her door, Brody whispered, “I’m sorry he ruined our evening, Dee. I’ll be over about eight thirty to carry your bags to the stage.”
“You could hardly let him bring his prisoner to the hotel for the night. If we refused to let a marshal inside the jail, people would wonder what we were doing over there. Then, if we married soon after my return, they’d think there was some wicked reason for doing so.”
The grinning sheriff confessed, “I guess the intrusion was good, since you’re such a desirable woman and I promised to give you time. This way, I’m forced to behave. Can I have a good-bye kiss?”
They embraced and their lips met. The kiss was more intense than Randee planned or wanted, but she allowed it to run its course. She felt the force of his desire in his taut body and snug embrace. His mouth hungrily claimed hers and she tried to respond.
His hands gently captured her head and he spread rapid kisses over her face before she could caution him to halt. When he did, he gazed deeply into her eyes and vowed hoarsely, “You’re ‘my own weakness, Dee, the only thing that can hurt me or harm me. I won’t give up my chase until you’re my wife. I must have you, I must.”
Randee watched the lawman round the corner and disappear down the steps. She felt traitorous to Brody as she dreamily thought, If only Marsh Logan could feel and say such things …
It was two o’clock in the morning when Randee began to thrash on her bed and to endure a bad dream: She witnessed her father’s murder by rustlers who wore the faces of the Epson Gang; she watched Payton Slade woo, wed, and dupe her mother; she. saw Dee’s husband join the Hollis Ranch to the Slade Ranch and claim it all as his; and she saw how her stepfather’s stare got bolder every day.
The dream got worse: Randee found herself trapped inside the barn while her mother was occupied with a bath. She felt Payton’s lips and hands on her body. She heard him threaten to kill her mother if she refused him and if she exposed him. She saw her shirt ripped away and Payton bury his face between her breasts. She felt his dirty hand slipping up her thigh. She desperately wanted to scream and resist, but couldn’t because Payton had two of his men standing on the front porch, prepared to enter the house and brutalize her mother if she did so.
Randee heard her stepfather say, “It’s more fun this way, girl. Keepin’ it a secret makes it more excitin’. Even if you told Dee. about us, she wouldn’t believe you. She would let me strip you an’ beat you for speakin’ such evil about her beloved husband. I like you bein’ real scared an’ wantin’ to kill me, but obeyin’. It makes me real hard for you. You’re my private prisoner, girl. I can do any thin’ to you. I’m sendin’ yore ma on a trip next week to help out at the Kirbys’. While she’s gone, I’ll teach you a few things; you’ll probably like ‘em. In case you get any crazy ideas, I’m sendin’ one of my men with yore ma.”
Randee awoke trembling and in a sweat. She was breathing erratically and her mouth was dry. She sat up in the bed and tried to clear away all thoughts of the nightmare, parts of which were real. She fetched herself water to wet her lips and throat, then changed into a dry nightgown. She turned and fluffed her pillow and “ straightened the sheets.
Randee knew she could never return to Kansas, even if that meant never seeing her mother again. She hated knowing that her mother was fooled by Payton Slade, but ignorance kept Dee happy and alive. Randee recalled how she had left her mother a note which said she was running away to New York to seek adventure. She remembered how she had packed and escaped during her mother’s visit to the Kirbys’. She had confided in the Carsons, and finally convinced them that Payton Slade was too powerful to challenge and that her mother wouldn’t take Randee’s word against her stepfather’s. The Carsons had believed her and protected her secrecy. Now they were gone, and Payton Slade would soon be staking his claim on another special ranch. Since she hadn’t exposed Payton’s wickedness in the note, her stepfather had no reason to harm her mother. But how long would he keep Dee around?
A bold idea entered Randee’s troubled mind. Following the destruction of the Epson Gang, why couldn’t she hire the Durango Kid to, defeat her stepfather? Of course, Payton Slade was not a wanted criminal like the savage gang they would be hunting down legally. Marsh would have to force him into a fight and gun him down! After she explained why she needed Payton killed and if she offered Marsh a great deal of money, surely he would take the additional work.
When the deed was done, she and her mother could force Payton’s men off the ranch, or they could move here for a fresh start on the Carson Ranch. Somehow she would convince her mother of Payton’s evil, after his death. If Marsh refused the second job, she would plead for Brody’s help, even if she had to marry him to get it. “Don’t worry, Mother, I’m going to save you from that bastard. If we’re both lucky, you’ll discover how bad he is before I come after him.”
Randee snuggled to her side and closed her eyes. Yes, she mused, they were her problems and she would solve them … .
By eight forty-five on Thursday, May 18th, Randee had bathed, dressed, eaten breakfast, and followed Brody to the waiting stage. She listened as the driver explained the rules to the passengers: “Don’t drink unless you need to and can share the bottle. Don’t smoke with ladies aboard. No cussing or swearing. Don’t crowd your neighbor or use him for a pillow. No shooting from the coach unless there’s trouble. If we have trouble, be calm until it’s settled. Obey these rules and you’ll enjoy a good ride. If not, you can be put off anywhere to make your way to the nearest town or station, with no refund.”
Randee and Brody exchanged amused grins as the passengers climbed inside the coach. He handed her a limp, paper-wrapped package. “A present to remember me by, ribbons for your hair. Every time you wear one, think of me and what’s waiting here for you.”
Randee ignored any stares or cause for gossip to hug the man and kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Brody. I’ll miss you. Stay safe and well.”
As Brody assisted Randee into the coach, the man on the left slid over to give the coveted window area to the sheriffs “sweetheart.” The route was posted at the office and on the stagecoach door: Wadesville to Fort Worth to Red River Station on the Texas border, across Indian Territory, and into Kansas to Dodge City. It was alleged to be a dusty, bruising, bone-tiring experience of eleven to twelve days, depending on the weather and any trouble along the way. For the passengers’ information and convenience, the schedule was also posted: departure at nine, a ten-minute horse change at a relay station at eleven, a forty-five minute halt for lunch and rest at a home station at one, a ten-minute horse change at another lay station at four, and a halt for the night at six at a home station or town. Since the horses were run fast and hard at eight to nine miles per hour, they were changed every fifteen miles. The driver and guard took their seats, and the momentous journey began at nine o’clock sharp.
Randee waved farewell to Brody and settled back to make herself as comfortable as possible. She was glad to be sitting against the front boot and facing backward, because that was the best bench available. She did not notice the man who began following the stage at the edge of town ….
Some of the passengers conversed casually, but avoided the forbidden topics of robberies and Indian attacks.. One woman took out her sewing for a while until she realized it was impossible to do such work under such jarring conditions. The same was true of a man who tried to read a book. A youth finally took out a’ harmonica and began to entertain the passengers with lively music, which helped to pass the time.
Around eleven, the stop at the relay station was brief because the attendant was swift and skilled, carrying out his task in less than five minutes. Passengers were not allowed to leave the coach at relay stops unless it. was an emergency.
At twelve-fifty, the stage halted at a home station for lunch. Randee only picked over the unappealing fare of beans, biscuits, and coffee. Back in the coach, many dozed after the quick meal and exercise. Randee watched the scenery rush by and wondered what lay ahead for her.
They reached Fort Worth on time and the passengers were on their own for the night, after being ordered to be on time for the morning departure. Randee hired a youth to take her bag to the local hotel, where she registered for the night and paid for a bath to be brought to her room. Afterwards, she went to the hotel restaurant for a decent meal, devouring each delectable bite. She doubted Marsh would join her this soon, and she was right. The night passed in fitful sleep and she was up and ready to leave at nine.
Some of the passengers were different today, but things went much the same as the day before. Still, she did not see the man who was stealthily following the coach … . Nor did she hear the tales of how the Durango Kid was giving the locals excitement far away in San Antonio …. Nor did she hear of the vicious raid on Bill Sharp’s ranch near Wadesville ….
Today, her tawny hair was becomingly secured by one of the ribbons from Brody Wade. As she fingered it, she pondered the ruggedly handsome lawman and his stirring revelations. Over and over she considered her plans and options, always finding Marsh Logan in the midst of them. He was something to deal with before her task ended!
That night, they halted at a home station. Following another unappetizing meal—served with an edible cake for dessert— they listened to music from a fiddler before the women were sent to one room and the men to a different one. Randee was unaccustomed to bedding down with another person, so she slept little. The other woman was the wife of an Army major, on her way to join her husband, who was stationed at Fort Sill just inside Indian Territory. The woman was painfully shy and talked little, despite Randee’s attempts to draw her out for a much needed distraction. At least Indian Territory— one day to become the state of Oklahoma— was heavily dotted with Army posts to protect whites and to keep the Indians on their assigned reservations.
Saturday passed without trouble, and without an appearance by Marsh Logan. The Red River was nearby and it seemed to warn Randee, “Don’t cross me or you’ll be in deep trouble.” As she tossed in the bed with the other young woman, she wondered what she should do if Marsh didn’t meet her soon as promised. In the morning, they would leave Texas, placing her closer to Kansas and Payton Slade. By the time she reached Dodge City, if she did, her funds would be too low to catch the stage back to Wadesville. She asked herself if she should halt here and turn back, or continue onward. Once she entered Indian Territory, she had no choice but to pass through it into Kansas ….
Randee stood beside the coach with mounting tension and doubts as the stage was ferried across the river boundary. The driver pulled it into a level clearing and ordered the passengers to reload. Randee hesitated a minute, fear gripping her heart. Had she trusted Marsh too quickly and fully? Had he taken her money and …
“Miss Hollis,” the familiar voice called out as she was slowly mounting the fold-down step.
Randee whirled and smiled, her heart pounding fiercely in relief and pleasure. She noticed Marsh’s roguish grin as he told the driver he was picking her up at this point and taking her home. The driver asked if she knew the man and if she agreed to leave the stage with him. Randee smiled at the man and replied, “Yes, sir. It’s fine.”
Her bag was. tossed down and the stage left them standing there. Randee looked at the gunslinger and demanded, “What kept you so long?”
“Getting worried, huh?” he teased. “I couldn’t get you sooner, because you were being dogged by Deputy Matthew Johnson. Obviously your loving sheriff asked him to make certain you left Texas alone. He turned back after the ferry started across the river. I suppose old Wade wanted to make sure you didn’t hook up with me in Fort Worth. I made the mistake of telling him in the bank that’s where I was heading. Must have been that robbery attempt that had my brain dulled. I guess he ordered Johnson to follow you until it was clear we weren’t joining up somewhere. Mistrustful sweetheart, isn’t he?”
“Maybe he just wanted an extra guard on me for protection,” she retorted in annoyance and fatigue. “Brody might not trust you, Durango, but he trusts me totally.”
“Is that so?” he taunted helplessly.
Randee glared at him “Yes, it is so,” she replied confidently.
“I see we’re tired and fussy today. Why don’t we blame it on that bumpy trip and cease this silly quarrel?”
“I wasn’t quarreling; you were. Let me get changed and we can get out of here,” she suggested to halt the vexing banter.
“Good, ‘cause that pretty dress would be hard to ride in. I hope you packed some trail clothes like I ordered.”
Randee sent him another icy glare at his last word, but didn’t challenge it. She took her bag and disappeared behind the thick underbrush near the river. She quickly changed into a split-tail riding skirt, matching shirt, and boots. She strapped on the holster and gun which her father had given to her before his death in ‘68. Ready, she joined Marsh at the horses.
He eyed the dark blue outfit and smiled approvingly. He tossed her a double-sided saddle bag and said, “Put your things in there. A carpetbag doesn’t tie well to a saddle.”
Randee caught the leather pouches and said, “Thank you.” She knelt to stuff her garments inside as Marsh watched her attentively. When she stood, he handed her a hat, commenting that she might not have one and would need it on the sunny trail. Again, she thanked him for his foresight and preparation. She was delighted to find that the hat was a perfect fit.
Before she could check out the horse and saddle he had purchased for her, he handed her a new holster with two guns—Smith & Wesson .44’s. “I’ll teach you to fire with both hands; it might be handy along the way. These guns don’t have to be hand-cocked after each shot, like that Colt you’re wearing. I’ve also put a new Winchester rifle on your saddle.”
Randee studied the revolvers and rifle, and was pleased. She lifted the gun and checked its weight. “It’s heavier. How’s its accuracy?”
“You’ll find out when we camp tonight. I don’t want that stage or station to hear gunfire. Just watch its kick if you use it before then; it’s a powerful weapon. I’m sure you’re a good judge of horseflesh and leather, so you’ll see I bought you the best of both.”
Randee went over the animal thoroughly and skillfully, examining his legs, teeth, eyes, hide, and hooves. Next, she ran her hands over the saddle, outside and underneath. She smiled and nodded her appreciation. “I see you spent the money well, Mr. Logan. Thanks.”
“I’m glad you like my selections, Miss Hollis,” he replied mirthfully. “They did cost us a mite more than we planned, but they’ll prove their worth in the weeks to come. So will those weapons,” he added as she traded her prized Colt for the new revolvers.
Randee tied her pouches to her saddle and checked the stirrup length and girth-strap snugness. He told her the chestnut’s name was Rojo, Spanish for red, unless she preferred to change it. “If she’s used to it, there’s no need to confuse her,” Randee said. She gently stroked the mare’s forehead and neck, allowing the animal to accept her touch and smell. She mounted agilely and asked, “Ready to ride, Mr. Logan?”
“Since we can’t use the ferry without notice, let’s go for a swim, Miss Hollis.” With that statement, he headed down the bank to a safe crossing point and guided his sleek black stallion into the water.
Randee removed her boots and held them in her lap to prevent them from filling with water and becoming uncomfortable; plus, she didn’t want her concealed pistol to get soaked. She wasn’t concerned about her skirt tail getting wet as it would dry quickly in the warm sun and the breeze that would be raised when they resumed riding.
Randee and Marsh forded the river in a short time. Neither one had any trouble with the often dangerous task. Marsh halted long enough for Randee to dry her feet and replace her boots. Accustomed to crossing many rivers during his travels, Marsh had learned how to hold his feet and legs to avoid water-filled boots. But, he realized, Randee’s way was simpler and safer— if you weren’t being chased.
Conversation was impossible as they rode toward Jacksboro at a swift pace and with Marsh’s intense concentration on their surroundings. Randee noted that ‘clearly this was a man who stayed on alert and who constantly gathered numerous perceptions at the same time. They halted briefly around noon, to rest and to water the horses and to eat cold biscuits with baked ham. The sparse fare was washed down with water since Marsh thought it best not to make a campfire for coffee. During that stop, he kept busy and to himself, so Randee did the same.
As they traveled, both had similar thoughts: each other. Both knew that each was being watched and tested by the other. All day, Marsh pushed the lovely blonde hard and fast to test her strength and mettle. Randee surmised his behavior and motive, and proved herself.
Marsh recalled what Randee Hollis had said about hiring a “special man” … . “only the best.” Since it was he who was with her right now— and not the other two applicants she had mentioned— that revealed her high opinion of his prowess. He took the lead to avoid her tempting distraction, as watching her would surely take his mind off of the road.
To the north of them, shortly after Marsh picked up Randee, trouble had struck. A band of renegade Indians, led by the Kiowa Chief Satanta, had attacked the stagecoach which had transported the blonde from Wadesville to the Red River border of Texas. Boldly they had crossed the river and raided the home station where Randee had slept Saturday night. They took horses, goods, and female prisoners; but the white men had been left behind, all dead.
In 1867, the Kiowas and Comanches, fierce tribal enemies, had given up the Texas Panhandle and agreed to settle on reservations in Indian Territory. But the land was barren and promises were broken, so Chief Satanta had rebelled and returned to “the old way.”
When the Army major’s wife and the stagecoach failed to arrive Sunday afternoon as scheduled, a search would begin immediately. The dreadful evidence would be found by dusk. By Monday morning, soldiers from Fort Sill would be on the march to recover the captives and to punish the renegade Indians. And, news of the lethal raids would be sent to the passengers’ and station workers’ next of kin in Fort Worth and Wadesville ….
As the miles raced past, Randee studied the irresistible man who rode just ahead, of her. No matter how amiable and charming he was, she always sensed a protective reserve about him. Yes, she admitted, he talked to her when it suited him to do so, but he always revealed very little, especially about himself. One thing she did know, she was safe with him. If he had been after the expense money, he wouldn’t have joined her at Red River. If he had been after her for other wicked reasons, he would have halted and taken advantage of her by now. Somehow, she had sensed she could trust him in those areas, even if he kept things from her or lied to her about himself.
Randee’s eyes roamed the sturdy physique on the saddle before her. Marsh possessed a combination of visible strengths: physical, mental, and emotional. At the hotel, he had given her a scant insight to an array of feelings, but by accident and without his awareness. It didn’t surprise her that he was a wary and private person, but she hoped he would relax and reveal more during their journey.
She eyed the strong jawline which was .firmly set on that handsome face. She remembered how light his blue eyes appeared against a darkly tanned face surrounded by ebony hair and heavy stubble. When he smiled, it created such an arresting effect, and he seemed to do it easily and naturally for the “coldblooded” gunman Brody had called him. She liked his intelligence and concern, shown to her by the horse, saddle, hat, and weapons. This man was a rare combination of traits that potently drew her to him, a man not to be taken lightly or foolishly.
They didn’t halt their tiring journey until dark, as Marsh said they needed to get at least halfway to Jacksboro. After tending their horses and setting up camp, they finished off the cold ham-and-biscuits with hot coffee made by Marsh. As both were weary and sleepy, they turned in immediately after eating, with only boots and hats removed. This wasn’t the time for conversing about anything, so they didn’t. Both were asleep quickly, Randee more deeply than Marsh.
It was shortly after dawn when the gunman awakened Randee and told her it was time to eat and move on. He secretly eye’d her for signs of excessive fatigue and fragility, and decided she was doing more than fine on the arduous trail. In fact, she had done better yesterday than most men would have, and without a single complaint or problem or sluggishness. He was most impressed, and surprised, by this beautiful lady who matched his endurance and determination. To keep her from slacking off, or so he mistakenly thought, he did not compliment her on her favorable skills. They ate the beans and biscuits which Marsh had ready almost minutes after she was astir.
Randee furtively observed the handsome man whose ebony hair fell appealingly over his forehead. Shadowy stubble darkened the strong jawline on his bronze face, and his eyes looked very blue and enticing this morning. He hadn’t buttoned or tucked in his shirt yet, and that golden chest was most tantalizing. Feeling warm and itchy all over, Randee knew she had to get her mind off the tempting sight of this man. The nineteenyear-old female smiled and stretched after finishing her breakfast. She told him, “You make wonderful coffee, Mr. Logan, and you’re an excellent cook.”
Marsh realized she was slightly nervous this morning, and he hoped he had guessed the correct reason for her tension: him. As she straightened her garments and brushed her hair, he grinned and teased, “I reckon that means I’m not supposed to be good in those areas because I’m a man. Or because I’m a gunslinger. Fact is, Miss Hollis, I’m on the trail most of the time, so I have to know how to cook good to keep from starving or spending too much time in noisy towns. Let’s get packing, woman, or we won’t make Jacksboro by nightfall.”
At dawn, while Randee and Marsh were beginning their day, the notorious Epson Gang made a bloody raid on a ranch near the Trinity River West Fork, a cattle spread northwest of Jacksboro ….