Odessa

By
Ginger Simpson

Eternal Press
A division of Damnation Books, LLC.
P.O. Box 3931
Santa Rosa, CA 95402-9998

www.eternalpress.biz

Odessa
by Ginger Simpson

Digital ISBN: 978-1-61572-294-5

Print ISBN: 978-1-61572-295-2

Cover art by: Dawné Dominique

Edited by: Gwynn Morgan

Copyedited by: Barbara Legge

Copyright 2011 Ginger Simpson

Printed in the United States of America
Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights
1st North American and UK Print Rights

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

To my grandson, Spencer, who is the light of my life and holds my heart in the palm of his little hand.

There are times in this life when you meet people who extend a helping hand when you need it. Janice Hendricks and Keith Davis from the Tombstone Times are two of those wonderful human beings who helped me keep my historical facts accurate. They went above and beyond my call for assistance.

“For my handling of the situation at Tombstone, I have no regrets. Were it to be done again, I would do exactly as I did it at the time.”

—Wyatt Earp, lawman

Odessa

Arizona Territory 1880

Chapter One

Odessa Clay struggled to lift the overturned wagon off her father. Her muscles burned and splinters dug into her palms, but Papa’s ashen face and eyes squinting with pain inspired her determination. She bit her bottom lip and struggled to stay calm.

“God, please help me,” she muttered through clenched teeth, as she pushed, shoved, and lifted with every ounce of strength she had left. The veins in the backs of her hands bulged, but the wagon didn’t budge. At one hundred pounds and barely five feet tall, she proved no match for solid wood. Her chest heaved and each breath took effort. She brushed sweat-dampened hair from her brow and knelt. All her struggling had only succeeded in setting the left rear wheel into a slow spin and creating an eerie whirring in the silence.

“Hold on, Papa. I’ll find some way to help you.” Her nails bit into her fisted palms.

His pale features contorted, and fear clutched her heart. She rose and stared up and down the trail. Nothing stirred except the hot wind that whipped her long hair into tangles and sent a dust funnel swirling in the distance.

Turning her attention back to her father, she again attempted to lift the wagon’s cumbersome weight and failed.

“Can anyone hear me?” She screamed the words as she searched the trail again.

The dirt road unfurled like a brown ribbon between the expanse of cactus and sagebrush. Odessa, refusing to let her father see her hopelessness, blinked back tears.

Anger heated her blood. This was all her fault. First her mother died giving birth, and now her father was dying because of her. He wanted her to have a woman’s influence in her life—have more opportunities. Their trip had gone smoothly until Papa failed to see a treacherous spot in the trail in time for the team to avoid it. The same wheel that spun now had been the one that slipped into a ragged rut and tipped the wagon over. She’d jumped clear, but her father remained pinned beneath the sideboard from the waist down. The accident snapped the harness rigging, and the animals ran off. What she wouldn’t give for one to wander back right now.

She rushed to the other side and pulled with all her might on the front wheel. Praying for strength, she gritted her teeth and tugged until splinters from the prickly-wooded spoke tore into her flesh. There was nothing she could do. The wagon wouldn’t shift.

Something stung above her left eye and she swiped her knuckles across the spot. Blood mixed with the dirt on her hand and created rust-colored mud. She wiped the stain on her sleeve and scanned the area for something to use for leverage. Her father had often lifted things by using a piece of wood or a log from a fallen tree. She hitched up her skirt and traipsed through sparse knee-high weeds, praying to find something—anything. 

“Stay with me, Papa, I’m looking.” She cast another hopeful glance at the trail. Still no one in sight. Why had they decided to make this wretched trip to Phoenix? Just because Aunt Susan lived there? Odessa’s stomach churned with fear and her mind spun in a hundred directions. What if she couldn’t get Papa out?

She spied nothing but rocks, boulders and a broken saguaro arm too rotten to use. Her shoulders sagged as she returned empty handed to the wagon. Her father’s face appeared even more ashen and his breathing ragged. A scarlet pool colored the dirt beneath him. She hunkered beside him and took his hand. Why had God let this happen?

Before she found her voice, his eyes fluttered open. “Don’t fret, Dessie. I’m not afraid to die. Your Ma is waiting for me.” His weak voice faded into a cough then his face puckered into a grimace. He licked his lips.

“Do you want water, Papa?” She swiveled to fetch the canteen, but he grabbed her arm.

“No.” He took a shallow breath. “I’m worried about you, darlin’. Find your Aunt Susan and let her know what happened. She’ll take care of you.” He moaned and swallowed hard. “All I know is she’s somewhere close to Phoenix. Tell her I’m sor….

Odessa squeezed his hand. “Don’t leave me, Papa.” 

His hand slackened in hers, and a final breath escaped his already blue lips. She remembered the distinct death rattle from when her grandmother passed away a few months back. Odessa collapsed across her father and wept. The day had started out with such excitement, and now she’d become an orphan. Being alone in the middle of nowhere magnified the pain of her loss. Was she destined to die too?

She sat up and gazed through blurred eyes at her father’s face. Her chest ached as though someone embedded a knife within her heart. If not for the smudges of blood and dirt on Papa’s cheeks, he almost appeared to be sleeping. In a way he was. The eternal sleep of the angels. She splayed her fingers through his hair and sobbed. “Please wake up. I don’t want to be alone.”

Numb and disbelieving, she stared into space. Her thoughts drifted back to the conversation she’d had with Papa about this trip. His deep voice still rang as clear in her mind.

“Dessie, you deserve more than Tucson has to offer. This place has grown too dangerous.”

The neighboring mining sites, rich with silver ore, attracted a less desirable crowd. More and more wanted outlaws roamed the streets, cocky and almost daring anyone to draw down on them. The town grew, but the environment became more dangerous, and Papa wanted to move to a place where Odessa could get an education and perhaps find a suitable husband. At seventeen, the thought of marriage made her queasy.

“But, Papa, I like living here,” she’d argued. “Momma, Granny and Grandpa are all buried in the church cemetery. We can’t just pack up and leave them.”

“Darlin’, where they’re at is a much better place, believe me. Besides, your Ma wouldn’t want you raised in this God-forsaken place. This town wasn’t like this when we first came here. The population is being overrun with gunslingers and fallen women. It’s not fittin’ for a girl your age not to be able to walk down Main Street and be safe.”

“But where will you work, Papa?”

“I’m sick of mining and I can’t afford cattle to start a ranch. I can find something in Phoenix. Hear tell the Phoenix-Maricopa Railroad is about to start. There’s bound to be something I can do. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, I’ll take care of us.”

So the decision was made.

Slumped beside her father’s still form, she lapsed into another crying fit, wishing she’d argued more for staying in Tucson. When she had no more tears to shed, she took stock of her predicament. She could not afford to waste what was left of the daylight.

Her only choice was to leave and hope some kind soul would come along and bury Papa. There was no more she could do. Determination to see her eighteenth birthday built within her breast. Dying wasn’t an option, but living was. If indeed her time to pass had come, she wasn’t going willingly.

Should she sit and wait for help to come? What were the chances? Granny always told her an idle mind was the devil’s workshop. Odessa wasn’t about to tempt fate.

Unlike their few belongings which were strewn about, Papa’s rifle, the food they’d packed for the trip and two filled canteens were somewhere beneath the wagon. Odessa wriggled under the bed and crawled toward the front. Cactus thorns poked through her clothing and pebbles and stones scratched her legs, but she found the things she needed. Inching backwards with them in tow, she made her way out from under the overturned rig and, rising to her knees, inhaled the fresh air. Her fingers held tight to the pouch holding the few spare bullets Papa had brought.

Pondering her options, she muttered an oath. She wouldn’t have minded if they’d stayed in the town where she’d been raised. Tucson had grown in the past year, with another general store, a new boarding house, and two laundries operated by Chinese men in silken suits and funny little hats. But her father saw danger she didn’t. “Oh, Papa,” she groaned. “You didn’t have to die because of me.” A lump formed in her throat.

She stood, purposely avoiding the other side of the wagon and his body, and bent to pick up the lap blanket normally kept stored beneath the seat. After shaking the dirt and thistles from the cover, she folded the material across her arm. Although the late April day grew hotter, desert nights were often cold and unpredictable. Flash floods were common, and even an occasional snow flurry wasn’t an odd sight on the higher plains.

The thought of being alone at night raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Predators filled this barren land and she had no desire to become a meal for one. Something rustled through the nearby scrub brush. She jumped, but sighed when she heard nothing further. At least if she remained with the wagon, she’d have some sort of shelter and could start fresh in the morning. She’d spent the night with Granny’s lifeless body in the house, so being with Papa was the lesser of her concerns. He loved her in life, and death wouldn’t change that. Perhaps he’d watch over her and keep her safe.

Odessa propped the rifle against the wagon, hung the canteens and pouch from a wheel hub and spread the blanket by the tailgate. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Papa had planned to stop for an early dinner in a good place to camp for the night, but the trip hadn’t lasted that far.

She dropped to the ground, tucked her skirt around her legs, and pulled a sandwich wrapped in a blue-checkered cloth from the basket. The thought that Papa lay only a few feet away stole the taste from the ham and brought tears to her eyes again. While she chewed, she watched the bright orange sun sink lower in the western sky. Her heart hammered with dread of the coming night.

The temperature dipped along with the sunlight. The air grew cold and raised goose bumps on Odessa’s arms. She kept vigil at the end of the wagon and snuggled beneath her blanket. A golden slice of moonlight hovered above. The outline of the nearby saguaros took on a human appearance. Arms and legs and faces masked by darkness. She shivered as a coyote howled in the distance.

Before long, another desert dog launched into a hair-raising cry, only to be answered by yet another. This one sounded too close. Letting go of the blanket, Odessa reached for the carbine and pulled the weapon across her lap. She’d never shot at anything other than a bottle on a tree stump, but having the rifle slowed her racing heart.

Her gaze scanned the shadows for movement. An occasional rustling indicated something small skittering about, but that didn’t frighten her as much as the continued yowling that grew nearer. Her rigid shoulders ached and her eyes blurred from staring. Despite only muted moonlight, being so exposed made her uncomfortable.

What if the remaining food attracted the coyotes? Odessa pushed the basket back beneath the wagon then realized a dead body was more likely to attract scavengers than her meager fare. Feeling foolish, she stood and gathered her canteens, then lay on the dusty ground and inched her way back beneath the tailgate, pulling the rifle in with her. There was not room enough to spread the blanket, and despite the stickers and pebbles poking at her, she’d much prefer the discomfort to the sharp teeth of a hungry animal.

On her stomach and clutching her weapon, Odessa peered into the darkness. She focused on happier times when Granny was still alive and had told stories of her own childhood. Most of them were tall tales, but what she wouldn’t give to be back next to the hearth and a roaring fire, listening to those yarns. Her favorite had always been about the ghost who lived in the pasture, but the fright Granny inspired by telling her spirit story was nothing compared to the lump of terror building in Odessa’s belly. She never realized the night held so many strange noises.

For what seemed like hours, she struggled to stay awake. The day had taken its toll and her eyelids drooped. Her head sagged to the ground. Inhaling dust, she sneezed, and tugged the blanket up between her cheek and the dirt. She settled once more and hoped sleep would come at last.

Somewhere between dozing and consciousness, an angry growl yanked her awake. A pair of glowing yellow eyes stared at her from outside her shelter. Her heart pounded like hooves against the dirt, her breath caught in her throat. Death was but inches away and she couldn’t move.

“We are rough men and used to rough ways.” —Bob Younger to a newspaper reporter following the 1876 Northfield, Minnesota raid.

Chapter Two

“Papa…” The word lodged in Odessa’s throat. Horrid memories returned. Her heart thudded. She was alone. Hot, fetid breath washed over her face, and she shuddered at the reality of how close the animal stood. Her trembling fingers found the rifle at her side and searched for the trigger. She raised the barrel slightly, and with eyes scrunched closed, fired. Her body shuddered from the force and a piercing yelp sliced the night. Something thudded to the ground. Odessa froze in place, listening for movement. The acrid smell of gunpowder hung in the air, but nothing stirred.

She took a deep breath and slid the hot rifle back to her side. Her stomach churned and bile rose in her throat. Despite praying to see some hint of sunrise, darkness cloaked her and whatever she’d killed. She rested her cheek back on the blanket. Tears slid and dampened the wool beneath her face. She’d never been so frightened. Exhaustion weighted her eyes shut, but her hand remained gripped around the rifle stock.

* * * *

Odessa opened her eyes to sunshine filtering through the cracks in the wagon bed. Raising her face from the scratchy blanket, she rubbed the numb cheek she’d slept on then shrugged the kinks from her shoulders. She turned her head and gasped. A sunken ribcage encased in short brown fur lay a short distance away. For a moment, she experienced a pang of sorrow for the emaciated animal. But only until she realized the scavenger had intended to make a meal of her.

She crawled from under the wagon, wrinkling her nose at the blood matted on the carcass. The coyote’s mouth remained locked in a feral grin, and one upturned eye stared vacantly at the sky. Odessa shuddered and sidestepped the animal.

After brushing the dust and stickers from her dress and petticoat, she flipped her hair over her shoulders. Its length had often brought praise, but now was a bother. As much as she wanted her bonnet, the head covering lay trapped beneath the wagon. She had no desire to inch her way back through the dirt to find it.

Papa’s hat! The thought of viewing him again made her grimace, but she recalled his Stetson was but a few feet from where he lay. Already the sun beat down with fury, and she needed something to shelter her face. Squaring her shoulders, she marched back around the wagon.

“Oh, Papa.” She fell to her knees, fighting tears. Her fingers caressed his cheek, cold in the wagon’s shade. “I have to leave you now. I know you understand. I’ll pray for you, and please give Momma my love… Granny and Grandpa, too. I guess if I don’t make it to Phoenix, I’ll join you all soon.” She bent and kissed his cool forehead.

After a deep breath, Odessa stood, plopped the hat on her head and tucked her tangled hair beneath it. She imagined how she must look: dirty, dusty, bedraggled and odd in an oversized Stetson. If only she had pants and a shirt to complete the outfit. Traveling, disguised as a man would surely be safer. But Papa frowned on girls in pants.

His opinion mattered little at this point. The overturned wagon claimed her valise and Papa’s too. Besides, nothing he owned would fit her. He was—he’d been a big man—tall and muscular. Thinking him as gone now brought a lump to her throat. Defeat nipped at her. She had no idea how far she had left to travel to Phoenix or how far they’d come. What about the weather, the animals, the danger? She prayed for a safe journey. A frightful thought niggled at her. Indians, some said, roamed the desert, although she’d yet to see one.

She looked skyward. “Please, Lord. Tell me what to do.”

When no resounding voice answered, she choked back tears again. “Make Papa proud, Dessie.” Her voice cracked. “H-he wanted you to get to Aunt Sue’s, and so you will.” She walked back to the blanket, shook and folded it, then gathered her meager belongings. The sooner she started walking, the better.

With Papa’s rifle slung over one shoulder and canteens hanging from the other, the food basket she carried in the crook of her arm held the blanket and bullets as well. She took one last look back then heaved a heavy sigh. “Time has come. I’m going now.” Speaking the words aloud affirmed her determination, but did little to quell her fear.

Her stomach gurgled. At first, she considered hunger the reason, but as visions of what might lay ahead raced through her mind, she realized fright rumbled her innards. Tonight she wouldn’t have a wagon to hide beneath. She swallowed her fear one more time, held her head high and slogged through the undergrowth and out onto the trail. Her earlier vow to survive sustained her. If death came to claim her, she’d not be waiting for it.

* * * *

Odessa’s determined pace turned to trudging footsteps. The sun sat high in the sky and pummeled her with heated fists. Sweat trickled down her face and neck and soaked her chemise. Her parched lips longed for a drink but she denied the need, fearing she’d not find water again soon. Ahead, alongside the road, a boulder loomed. She hastened to it and sat in its shade. Dropping her load, she removed her hat and swiped her forearm across her brow. Her gaze scanned the lonely trail ahead; her spirits sagged.

Keeping her rifle at her side, she rummaged through the basket. She needed to eat to keep up her strength. Beneath the blanket, she found another wrapped sandwich and an apple. The fruit might do more to quench both her hunger and thirst. She took a hefty bite. Sweet juice bathed her dry mouth and dribbled down her chin. She never remembered anything tasting so good and savored every bit, save the stem and seeds.

Her canteens were still full. If she continued to ration the remaining water, she should be good for a few days. Along with her remaining sandwich, she ate some cookies, another apple, a couple of biscuits and some salted pork. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and sighed. “I’d trade it all for a horse.”

By the sun’s position, she’d walked for half the day already. With night-time looming, dread sank like a stone in the pit of her stomach. What of night creatures and the dropping temperatures? Her heart quickened. Maybe someone would come along. Perhaps she’d find shelter. She shook her head and dropped her chin to her chest. The whimper she released sounded more like a shout in the silence around her.

She straightened. “Stop being such a baby, Odessa. Papa would be ashamed.” Forcing herself to stand, she gathered her provisions, and with a sigh, stepped back onto the trail. Empty miles of dusty road lay ahead.

Humming broke the monotony. A tune she’d heard drifting from one of the saloons in Tucson echoed in her head—Red River Valley. She’d only dared listen to part of the song before she’d skittered away, but had sung it repeatedly in her head until she remembered the words. She started to croon:

From the valley they say you are going. We will miss your bright eyes and sweet smile.

For they say you are taking the sunshine. That has brightened our path for a while.

Come and sit by my side if you love me. Do not hasten to bid me adieu. But remember the Red River Valley and the cowboy who loved you so true.

This time, the words did little to lift her spirits. She already missed Papa’s bright eyes and sweet smile. He’d been her sunshine, and now he was gone. Everyone was gone. She wiped a tear away, focused on the heat waves rising from the dust, and kept walking. Walking, walking, walking.

The temperature soared. Little wonder that only scrub brush and cactus survived in this hell-forsaken wilderness. Odessa stopped and lifted a canteen to her lips. She took a sip and washed the liquid around in her mouth before swallowing. Even the water was hot. The weight of the rifle bit into her shoulder and sweat saturated the coarse canteen straps. Her skin rubbed raw from the added burden. If curling into a ball and crying would help, she’d gladly drop on the spot and lapse into tears. But despite having lost everyone she loved, she wanted to go on living.

She grimaced at the woven imprint indented in her forearm by the basket’s handle. Lightening her load might help. She snapped the blanket out onto the dirt and dumped the food contents on top. After adding the canteens, she drew the four woolen corners together and created a makeshift saddlebag. With the blanket draped across her shoulders and the rifle in place, she set off once again.

She plodded for what seemed endless hours. Pausing, she whipped the hat from her head and let her hair fall free. Despite Papa’s Stetson, the sun and heat had burned her lips until they ached. Fiery warmth scorched her scalp. She’d always heard that black drew more heat, and the hat proved the rumor true. Her feet ached in her button-up boots and her legs felt like Granny’s jelly. Dampness plastered her petticoat to her legs. Defeat ate at her, but with each negative thought, she squared her shoulders and marched onward

The sun pursued a downward trek. Soon the air would cool, but that meant darkness and danger. Her heart, pounding from exertion, skipped a beat. Maybe she was meant to die after all. Exhaustion consumed her. Her body ached and sinking to the ground sounded appealing. Instead, she shook her head several times to clear her mournful thoughts, and scanned around for any type of shelter. Even a boulder would do.

Twilight soon tiptoed across the barren expanse. Despite the sunset still glowing on the horizon, stars appeared. She had to find a place to rest for the night—the dreaded night. A short distance ahead, a small boulder cropped from the scrub. More a large rock, but it’d have to do. At least it provided something to rest against.

Odessa reached the rock, unburdened her weary body and cleared stones and prickly grass from her selected spot. With most debris removed, she spread her blanket on the sandy ground and collapsed. The sun’s heat still radiated from her stony backrest and drove away the creeping chill.

As she munched a biscuit, her eyes trained on the eerie shadows. So far, she’d heard no familiar howl or night critters scurrying through the undergrowth. Her father’s Henry rifle, the new one in which he took such pride, lay close to her side along with the remaining ammunition. She whispered a prayer for God to see her through the night.

* * * *

Bright sunlight and growing heat woke Odessa. She bolted upright, her heartbeat roaring in her ears. How could morning be here already?

A pain seared along her spine when she moved, and her neck refused to turn. Had she slept in the same position all night and fused all her muscles into a knot? A bit of discomfort was a small price to pay to wake up safe and alive. If a coyote had howled or a snake slithered across her, she’d not been aware of it.

She stretched her arms over her head, shrugged her shoulders and yawned. Her grandmother had always complained about ague and rheumatism. Was this how she’d felt? Despite Odessa’s aching body, a ray of hope broke through her despair, if only for a fleeting moment. She smiled and found hope. Prayer held power; she’d lived to see another day.

After finishing the last biscuit and a bit of salted pork, Odessa took a sip of water. She gathered her belongings inside the blanket, optimistic once again. Even with her stiffened joints and muscles, she’d had a good night’s rest and felt eager to get started before the sun rose higher. After a brief squat behind the rock, she arranged her hair back under Papa’s hat and set off, following a trail that twisted and turned then disappeared from sight. She hadn’t removed her shoes and socks for days for fear she wouldn’t get them back on again. Each step reminded her how far she’d come.

The heat grew fierce. Odessa’s dress clung to her like bark on the old oak tree next to her house—or what used to be her house. Papa sold the home to the bank for very little profit. His desire to leave Tucson was more important than money.

Money! She gasped. She’d left the small amount Papa had packed in his valise. The thought never occurred to her before now. Still, there was no way she’d backtrack to get it. Let whoever found her father reap the reward. Hopefully, they’d earn the few bucks by seeing to his remains. Guilt still gnawed at her for leaving him. She pushed onward, trying to think only of Aunt Susan’s smiling face and welcoming arms.

Odessa’s legs turned leaden. Salty sweat dripped from her brow into her eye and burned like blazes. She knuckled at her closed lid and grimaced. Instead of her usual sip, she whipped the canteen up to her mouth and took a long draw. She felt faint and hoped the water would wash the feeling away.

Ahead, everything blurred but not from rising heat waves. This was different. Dizziness clawed at her, making her unstable on her feet. Her head throbbed, and her neck sagged to her chest like a melting candle. The ground zigzagged beneath her gaze then rose to meet her. Helpless in a heap, her fingers stretched across the gritty dirt, searching for her rifle. She fought against the darkness that sucked her into an endless hole.

“They say I killed six or seven men for snoring. It ain’t true. I only killed one man for snoring.”

—John Wesley Hardin

Chapter Three

Zach Johnson kept his horse at a steady pace along the rutted trail leading towards Charleston. He’d left Phoenix before sunup yesterday. Swiping a sleeve across his sweaty brow, he arched his back away from the saddle cantle. Too much time had passed since he’d made a long trip by horseback.

With no end to the cactus and scrub brush, his mind whirred. Was he a fool getting involved with the outlaws? He had played poker with a friend of Pete Spence, a known fugitive from Texas, when the man passed through Phoenix and stopped at the saloon. He seemed a nice enough fellow, but too much corn whiskey made Zach loose-lipped about needing money to keep the bank from reclaiming his father’s ranch. By day’s end, Zach lost what little money he had in the game, and driven by desperation, accepted the offer to join Pete and his cohorts in a holdup.

The sun raged like a fire in a baker’s oven. Squiggly lines drifted upwards from dirt hardened by lack of rain, then dissipated into the sky. Zach squinted at a strange-looking dot up the trail and shook his head. People frequently lost their belongings that way. Whatever lay in the road most likely had little or no value. He pulled his canteen up and took a swig.

The spot in the road grew larger as he neared. The image resembled a heap of clothing until he closed the distance and realized he’d found a person. He widened his eyes. The red and white gingham wasn’t just discarded rags. The material was a dress worn by a woman—and a very young one it appeared. After reining in his horse, he dismounted and yanked his canteen from the saddle horn.

Zach knelt and cradled her head in the crook of his arm, then removed her oversized hat. Blonde hair spilled out and dusted the ground as he fanned her. She still had color in her face, but didn’t move. He bent and put his head to her chest and listened. Her heart beat slow and steady. Straightening, he released a pent up breath. She was alive. His gaze traveled the length of her.

Scuffed, dusty boots poked out from the tattered hem of her dress and the hands at her sides bore scrapes and cuts. Dirt stained the once-white cuffs at her wrists and smudged her cheeks. A rifle lay close by, along with a half-filled canteen, judging from its weight. Where had she come from? He scanned around for a hint but saw nothing but endless desert.

Although she looked young, the slight rise and fall of her bosom showed ample development. At least she breathed. Was she injured or just a victim of the unrelenting heat? A quick scan revealed no blood on her clothing although she had a small cut above her eye. He chewed his bottom lip. The last thing he needed was to be someone’s hero. He’d given his word to join Pete Spence, and from what he’d heard, he wasn’t the type you double-crossed.

Zach lifted his canteen to the girl’s cracked lips and drizzled water onto them. She sputtered and gasped, and eyes bluer than the sky flew open and stared up at him. “Who…who are you?” Her voice was a mere whisper.

“Zach Joh… Zach’ll do fine.” He thought twice about giving his full name. After all, he was on his way to rob a stage… if he could find someone to pawn her off on. “Better question is, who are you? What’re you doin’ out here in the middle of nowhere by yourself?”

“O-Odessa Clay,” she muttered. “Father, dead… wagon turned over.” She blinked several times then her eyes closed again. Her head lolled to the side.

“Shit!” He peered down at the unconscious girl in his arms. “Well, Odessa Clay, what in the hell am I supposed to do with you?”

Clearly, she was in no condition to travel. He’d have to make camp for the night and turn back to Phoenix in the morning. Charleston was farther away, and he wasn’t certain they had a doctor. He stared down at her angelic face and wondered why he’d decided to join up with the Spence gang in the first place. Zach wasn’t an outlaw. Hell, even this strange female set him to trembling.

His gut twisted into a knot. At twenty-one, this was the first time he’d lied to his pa—used getting a job with the stage line as a reason to leave town. The little fib years back about the spilled bucket of milk didn’t count. Pa believed the cow had kicked the container over.

The girl in his arms moaned and interrupted his thoughts. Her eyes opened again, and her blank look showed confusion. He rested her head on his thigh, untied the kerchief from his neck and wet the cloth with water from his canteen. While blotting the dust from her cheeks and brow, he forced a smile. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of you. You’ll be fine.”

Dread filled him. What was he thinking? Outlaws weren’t known for being patient men. Besides, Zach needed money before the first of the month. He brushed a wayward hair from the girl’s mouth then clenched his hand into a fist. “Damn, I can’t just leave you here.”

He saw fear in her eyes.

Zach had passed an old adobe not far back. It had no roof, windows or door, but would provide a place to hide off the beaten path. He wasn’t afraid of the dark, but there was no telling who might pass by during the night. He placed her hat beneath her head and left her lying on the ground while he gathered her belongings and secured them to his saddlebags. Her rifle fit into the scabbard, along with his own.

Scooping the girl from the ground, Zach propped her in the saddle and scrabbled up behind her, clutching her hat against her. One arm held her tight while he searched for the reins with the other. She stiffened for a moment before her head fell back and rested against his shoulder. Her hair smelled of dust mingled with something sweet. He couldn’t place the odor. Nor could he explain why his groin tightened at her nearness. A breath fluttered past his lips and he nudged Storm onward.

At the adobe ruins, he slid to the ground and pulled her from the saddle, leaving her hat on the horn. He cradled her in his arms and was taken aback to see her gazing up at him. Something about her eyes stirred unfamiliar emotions in him. “How are you feeling?” he asked amidst his awkwardness.

Her brow puckered and she turned rigid. “Do I know you?” She sounded weak and scared. “Where am I?” She kicked and struggled.

“Whoa!” He readjusted his hold on her, jostling her in the air to find the crook in her knees. “We’ve met. You just don’t remember. Zach’s the name and you’re safe with me. I promise.”

She relaxed in his arms, but sighed. He sensed her gaze and peered down into eyes filled with distrust. Her gaze darted from side-to-side. “I’m still in the desert, aren’t I? I hoped I was having a bad dream.” She frowned.

Despite her cracked and swollen lips, he suffered a sudden urge to kiss her. Instead, he jerked his chin up and stared forward. “Yep, unfortunately you’re still here.”

Zach carried her to the other side of the standing wall. A weathered bench sat among broken pottery and rusted utensils. An old coffee pot, dented and missing its lid, lay next to a pile of ashes left by fires of previous travelers. He sat her down on the rickety wooden seat. “Will you be all right while I get our gear?”

She nodded, lowering her head and making a futile attempt to brush the dirty stains from her skirt. “I suppose.”

When he returned, laden with his bedroll and her pack, and both rifles slung across his shoulder, the bench was empty. His breath caught in his throat. He whipped his gaze around and didn’t see her. She couldn’t have gone far.

Storm nickered loudly. Zach dropped everything and dashed back to where he’d left his horse. Odessa struggled with the reins, trying to lift her foot into the stirrup. Storm snorted and reared. The girl jerked and stepped back when flying hooves clawed the air close to her head.

Zach snared the reins that now dragged the ground. “Shhh, it’s all right, boy. Calm down.” Storm snorted again and pulled against him.

“What the hell were you…?” His harsh tone faded when he noticed her eyes were wide as silver dollars, her chest heaving.

“I’m sorry.” Tears clouded her eyes. “Please don’t have me hung for being a horse thief. I don’t even like horses. I just…” Her chin sagged to her chest and she sobbed.

“Oh, don’t cry. I hate it when you women do that.” Zach clucked his tongue against his teeth. “No one’s getting hung, so stop your caterwauling.” This wasn’t exactly the reward he expected for his good deed.

She sniffed and swiped her sleeve across her nose. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t even know how to ride and I’ve always been afraid of animals bigger than me. Maybe the sun has baked my brain. I should be thanking you instead of trying to leave you stranded. Can you forgive me?”

Those eyes again. How could he say no? He lowered his gaze and kicked at a pebble then looked up. “I guess I can, but how do I know you won’t try to flee again? Am I gonna have to tie you up?”

Her mouth gaped. “You wouldn’t?”

“It’s your call. This horse means more to me than you do.”

“I promise I won’t do anything so addlebrained again.” She clasped her hands beneath her chin and flashed a weak grin.

“And why should I trust you?” He cocked his head, still holding the reins.

“Because I give you my word, and my pa, may he rest in peace, taught me about honor.” She dropped her arms and squared her shoulders.

“I guess you must have forgotten a few minutes ago, huh?” He patted Storm’s forehead. “But then, you don’t know anything about me, so I reckon I understand.”

Her shoulders sagged. “I’ll be good. I swear on my momma’s grave. Papa’s too, if I knew for sure he had one.”

The tone in her voice plucked at Zach’s heart. He recalled her mention of a wagon mishap. “Your Papa… he died recently?”

Her lip quivered. “Yesterday, I think. I’ve lost all track of time. We were on our way to Phoenix when our wheel hit a rut…”

“I’m sorry.” Beyond that he had no idea what to say. The awkward silence begged to be broken. “You look pale. Let’s go back inside so you can sit down.” He laughed. “Don’t know why I said inside. One wall and crumbled remains of three others don’t hardly make this rubble a house, now does it?”

Leading his horse with one hand, he took Odessa’s arm with the other and led her back up the path of ankle-high scrub. “How’d you get out without me seein’ you?”

She stiffened. “I watched and waited until you started back up this path then I crawled over the shortest wall and made my way to your horse.”

“Pretty sneaky of you, but tonight, Storm’s sleepin’ with us so I can keep an eye on him… and you.” He dropped an eyelid in a wink. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved.” She licked her dried lips then grimaced.

“Well, you rest and I’ll whip us up some grub.”

* * * *

Stars sparkled overhead and a light breeze rustled the dried grass beyond the brick and mud walls. Shadows of a flickering fire danced on the adobe while the crackling flames devoured the last pieces of wood left behind by previous visitors. Odessa’s shoulders tensed at the idea of spending the night with a stranger, but she found him preferable to a snarling coyote. Besides, if he was going to force himself on her, he would have by now. He didn’t seem anything like the foul-smelling cowboys who drifted through Tucson with guns slung low on their hips. In fact, he didn’t wear one.

Zach sat on the bench munching half of the last apple from Odessa’s stash while she leaned against the saddle he’d removed from Storm and enjoyed the other. She pulled the blanket around her legs, and drew her shoulders together with a shiver. “The temperature is colder tonight, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re still suffering from being overcome by heat. Actually, the air is quite comfortable.” He stood and nudged the large wood pieces forward with the toe of his boot to refresh the waning fire. Flaming fingers came alive, seeming to follow the spiral of smoke climbing skyward. “There, that’ll help, at least for a while. I think we’re burning what’s left of someone’s table. ”

Except for the hiss of the fire, silence overtook the night. Storm’s shuffling movement outside the perimeter, and the noisy chewing that ensued when he found a patch to eat, sounded occasionally. Odessa gazed around what remained of the building, trying not to admire Zach’s handsome profile. His sandy blond hair, still matted from his hat, didn’t mask the appeal of full lips and angular jaw. She whisked her focus back to him. “Who do you think lived here? And why?”

“No telling. Could just be the remains of a way station or an old stage stop. They were quite plentiful until problems with the renegade Apaches from the San Carlos reservation scared folks away. But, I hear tell they’ve all been captured and sent away.” He spread his blanket along the wall, stretched out and folded his arms behind his head. He stared at the sky. “Sure are a lot of stars out tonight.”

She looked up. “I’ll say. Like a beautiful blanket over an ugly ol’ bed. I’ve come to hate the desert. I wanna live where everything is pretty and green.”

“Where’d you come from?”

“Tucson.” She studied the twinkling sky, wondering if the star that sparkled brightest meant Papa found his way to heaven.

“Isn’t that desert?” His voice summoned her attention.

She caught his gaze. “I suppose you could call it that, but at least there are trees and flowers. It’s not all brown and lifeless looking like this place. What’s Phoenix like?”

“Like most of Arizona Territory. Dusty and dry. The town is changing more every day, especially with the Maricopa-Phoenix Railroad starting up. The streets are lined with adobe buildings and wagonloads of new citizens to live and work in them. It’s gotten too crowded for my liking. I prefer wide open spaces.”

“I’m not sure what I prefer any more. Papa and I were on our way to Phoenix for a new start before…” She swallowed her hurt. “My Aunt Susan lives somewhere close, and now I have to find her. She’s the only family I have left.”

“The town isn’t so big that we can’t find someone who knows her. Maybe a banker or someone at one of the mercantiles.”

“We? Does that mean you’re going to help me?” Her heart skipped a beat.

“Well, I can’t very well leave you out here to die, can I?” He sighed.

“I was hoping not.” She smiled, but his eyes were closed. Recollections of being in his arms earlier flashed in her mind and, for some confused reason, she wished he’d wrap them around her again. Snuggling down, she turned on her side and watched him.

His chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm and his full lips slightly parted. Funny, she’d never noticed Papa’s denims fit like Zach’s, nor had his shirt strained against muscled arms. Of course Papa didn’t roll his sleeves up. She fanned her face with her hand and looked away. Maybe Zach was right. Surely, prolonged exposure to the sun was making her think such ridiculous thoughts. She barely knew anything about the man. She kicked away her blanket and reached for her canteen. What in the world was wrong with her?

Odessa tensed. What if Zach waited for her to fall asleep so he could take advantage of her? Granny had warned of such men in the world—sweet talkers who only wanted to get into a lady’s bloomers. Odessa still wasn’t sure what the old woman had meant. She rarely explained herself. Willing her tired eyes to remain open, Odessa pondered how Zach would look in her undergarments.

“The Seventh can handle anything it meets.” —General George A. Custer

Chapter Four

Odessa stared at the fire until only flickering embers remained. The half moon sat higher in the sky and highlighted the jagged adobe structure. Zach’s grating snores sliced through the silence and wore on her nerves, but despite Granny’s warning, Odessa welcomed sleeping in the safety of his company. If he had ill intentions, he would have made a move by now, she reckoned. Her sheltered life limited her experience with strangers. So far, he’d given her no pause to worry.

His profile drew her attention, and even with his lips fluttering, she’d never known a man so handsome. Sleep softened the frown he wore when awake.

She rose, opened her blanket fully and spread it back on the ground. Her body ached after being thrown from the wagon. The hip she’d landed on was bruised and tender. Her pain summoned memories of leaving Pa behind and hot tears returned. Images of his face played in her mind. She shook her head to clear them.

Her mouth widened in a yawn. The day’s emotions had taken a toll, and she craved a good night’s sleep. Yet another of Zach’s snores rattled the night. She covered her ears and grimaced, then bent and adjusted his saddle at the top of her blanket. “If I can sleep through all this ruckus,” she mumbled.

Perhaps she’d drift to a dream more pleasant than life had become. Wincing in pain, she lowered herself atop one half of the blanket and pulled the other half over her.

Sleep still eluded her. A cool wind drifted past the shortest wall and stalled against the tallest. She shivered at the drop in temperature, but preferred the chill to broiling in the sun. Her eyes focused on the twinkling stars overhead as the day replayed in her mind. Thank goodness Zach appeared when he had. She shuddered to think what might have happened to her. She cast a thankful glance at him and started when he flung an arm up over his face. For a moment, his snoring ceased, and everything fell quiet.

The security she embraced dissolved with the howl of a coyote in the distance. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. Zach didn’t stir. Neither her movement nor the disturbing yowl interfered with his slumber.

“Hmm, maybe I’m not as safe as I thought.” She tensed and chewed her bottom lip.

Her rifle lay next to his. She sat up, reached and moved the weapon closer to her bed then lay back, grumbling at using a saddle as a pillow. She yearned to sleep, but another lonely howl sent images of glaring yellow eyes invading her thoughts. Her heartbeat hitched, and she took a deep breath, wanting to wake Zach and have him assure her everything would be fine.

Instead, she rolled to her side, pulled her weapon closer, and tugged the blanket tighter around her. She couldn’t become dependent on him. Although Zach said he’d see her to Phoenix, the loss of Papa so suddenly proved nothing was certain in life. Besides, Zach himself pointed out she knew nothing about him. Was he a man of his word?

Fear outweighed exhaustion. She struggled to keep her eyes open, training them for any movement in the darkness. What she wouldn’t give for the safety of her home in Tucson and the familiar comfort of her downy featherbed. Oh, for the sounds of a rooster crowing outside her window, or her father’s booming laughter while they shared stories at supper. Those were sounds and feelings she’d never know again. Her tired eyes blurred with tears. She sniffed and swallowed the choking sorrow, then cocked her head and listened.

The coyote serenade ceased, but silence didn’t mean one wasn’t lingering nearby. She kept one hand on the rifle stock and took a cleansing breath. Zach’s horse no longer moved about restlessly. A gentle breeze rustling through the weeds replaced the animal’s traipsing. If danger came, Storm would alert her. Surely, that’s why Zach slept so peacefully. She cast a glare at him, impatient with his ability to continue his infernal snoring. Only through his intermittent breaths was she able to hear anything else.

With eyelids heavier than the fishing weights Papa had used, she found a comfortable position and heaved a relaxed sigh. At that moment, Zach released a booming blast of air—tooted, as Granny would say. Odessa covered her mouth and muffled a giggle. It felt good to laugh, even at his expense. Hearing him break wind made him seem more human. She snuggled down again and closed her eyes.

* * * *

Heat on her face woke Odessa. Sunlight glared past the break in the walls. She turned away and opened squinty eyes. She’d lived safely through the night. Her trust in Zach seemed appropriately placed.

A pasty film coated her tongue and her lips felt more cracked than yesterday. Propped on her elbow, she reached for her canteen and swished warm water around in her mouth then swallowed. The sun’s position showed she’d slept longer than expected. Had Zach?

His bedroll was empty. She jerked upright, her wild gaze searching for him. Storm wasn’t where he’d been tethered, either. Her heart hammered as she flailed about in the confines of her twisted skirt. Finally untangled, she stood. “That stinkin’ polecat left me.” She clenched her teeth. “I should have known I couldn’t trust him.”

Her booted foot sent a small rock flying before she sank onto the bench and covered her face with her hands. “What am I gonna do now?” Tears welled again.

She bolted to her feet. “I will not cry. I was on my own yesterday and today will be no different. I owe it to Papa to survive.”

According to Zach, he’d left Phoenix early yesterday morning. By her calculation, she wasn’t that far from civilization. Of course, traveling on foot would be slower, but she still had a whole canteen of water and part of another.

“Oh, just my luck.” She slapped her forehead. They’d eaten all her food. But she could live a day or two without any. Couldn’t she? Her stomach rumbled in protest, but she gave it a reassuring pat.

“Granny always said when I set my jaw, I can do anything.” Odessa clamped her teeth tight and steeled herself for whatever lay ahead. Who needed some half-witted cowpoke to rescue her anyhow? She folded her blanket, shaking her head that the coward had left without even saying goodbye or wishing her well on her journey. Anger heated her blood, but try as she might, she couldn’t erase his handsome face from her mind… or forget those sky blue eyes. “Ohhh, men. Worse than warts.” She gathered her canteens and rifle. “Who needs ’em?”

“Where’re ya goin’?” With one flaxen brow arched, Zach sat astride Storm. A dead jackrabbit dangled from the saddle horn.

Relief flooded through her. It took a moment to find her voice. “Where’ve you been?”

“I figured you needed your sleep, so I rode down the trail a bit to find some fresh meat to go with my biscuits. I hope my rifle shot wasn’t what woke you.” His gaze rested on her bundle and his brow rose. He grinned. “You didn’t think I left you, did you?”

She crossed her arms and feigned an indignant stance. “Of course not. I-I was just getting things ready.”

He dismounted and wrapped Storm’s reins around a low-growing bush. “I figured we could burn the bench and cook this here rabbit, then get started. I need to get you to Phoenix and your Aunt Sue so I can get back on the trail.”

“Am I keeping you from something important?” She didn’t want him to feel obligated to stick around. But, in the back of her mind, she prayed he would.

His throat wobbled with a hard swallow before he turned his back to her. “Nah, nothin’ that won’t wait.” He held the weathered bench upright and pushed, pulled and kicked the wood into pieces. Within a few minutes, he had a fire going. “We’d best hurry so we can get moving.”

The discomfort he displayed at her question, the way he avoided her eyes bothered her. He wasn’t telling her something, and she was determined to find out what. “So where are you headed?”

“To take a job.”

“You certainly are a man of few words.” The questions she longed to ask last night now lined up in her mind like bullets waiting to riddle him. “Tell me about your home in Phoenix… and your folks.” The mere mention of family caused a lump in her throat.

“It’s only me and my pa. Ma died a few years back from consumption. I…still miss her smile.” He spread his kill across his knees.

Odessa sat on her blanket and fidgeted with her skirt while he skinned the rabbit. The sounds of ripping fur made her squirm, and she stared into her lap.

“Are you all right?” Zach asked.

She looked up and made a face. “I’m a pretty good cook, but I’ve never been much for handling dead things. My grandma used to get angry when I refused to wring a chicken’s neck. She’d pick out the fattest hen for dinner and expect me to kill it.”

“I imagine the way they flopped around afterwards was what bothered you most.” He laughed.

“It was.” She shuddered. “I just couldn’t get used to snapping their necks with the flick of my wrist. Granny was really good at it.”

“She probably had lots of practice.” Zach grinned then wiped his blade on his pant leg and started to cut the cleaned carcass into pieces. He stopped with his knife midair and looked up at her. “I’m not partial to killing things either, but when my choices are eating or starving, I do what needs to be done.”

She smiled and nodded. “I reckon I’d rather eat if given the preference. I always counted on Pa to do the killing and skinning. I’m a pretty fast plucker though.”

Her bottom numbed. She shifted her weight to one side and drew her leg up under her. “Do you and your father live in town?” Getting anything out of this man was like pulling a tooth.

“No, on the outskirts. Our ranch is close to twenty-five acres of flat land backed up to a mesa. We have a few head of cattle and hope to get more, but…” His jaw tensed into a rigid line.

“But what?”

“You’re a nosy little thing, aren’t you?” He grinned. The firelight dancing in his eyes set her stomach aflutter.

She squared her shoulders. “Granny called my curiosity being inquisitive. She always said I was more social than any young ’un she’d ever seen.” Odessa lifted her chin. “I don’t mean to pry. If you don’t want to answer, just say so.”

“Inquisitive? There’s a polite term if ever I heard one. Well, Miss Curiosity, I stopped short of cussing in front of you. My pa is having problems with meeting the bank note, and I’m off to earn some money to save our land.”

She lowered her gaze, her cheeks heating. “I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t mean to dredge up an unpleasant topic. I-I only wanted to get to know you a little better.”

“No need to apologize. It’s not your fault the varmints who run the bank in Phoenix ain’t interested in helping a body out when they need a hand up.”

“So… why didn’t you find work in Phoenix? Is there none to be had?”

His eyes widened and he cleared his throat. “None that fit my needs. I need a quick way to earn a lot of money.”

“And what will you… Ouch!” She whipped her dress and petticoats aside and grabbed her calf. “Something bit me.” She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

Zach dropped the rabbit’s hindquarter in the dirt and, still on his knees, scrambled to her side. “Let’s see.” He pried her hand away.

“Oh, good heavens! Look.” Odessa pointed to a scorpion skittering across the dirt. With its curved tail held high, the critter disappeared into the brush. She clutched her bosom. “I know some can kill a person. Am I gonna die?”

“They saw me, those reckless seekers of beauty, and in a night I was famous.” —Lillie Langtry

Chapter Five

Odessa winced as Zach bent and examined the bite. Tears stung the back of her eyes, matching the burn beneath her skin. Too afraid to be embarrassed at his long fingers touching her bare leg, she gulped back a sob. “Tell the truth. Am I gonna die?” Her voice trembled.

He glanced up and smiled. Sweat from the rising temperature glistened beneath the brim of his hat, but his hand felt cool against her skin. “I doubt it. The scorpion looked like a stripe-tailed one. The critter probably didn’t mean any harm. They usually burrow in the dirt, and I ‘spect you leaned on him a might too hard.”

She pressed her knuckles to her lips. “Then why does my leg burn so much?”

“Cause you’ve been stung. If the scorpion was poisonous, you’d be having breathing problems by now. You aren’t, are you?” His steady gaze assessed her.

Her hand against her chest, Odessa took a few deep breaths. Tension melted from her shoulders. “No. Other than my leg hurting, I feel fine.”

He patted her knee and inched away. “Trust me. You’re gonna live. Your leg’ll be sore for a day or two and you might even run a fever, but…”

“I can’t be sick.” She sat straighter. “We have to get to Phoenix, remember?”

He nodded. “Don’t fret. We’ll get there, but now, you need to relax. I have to cook this rabbit before the flames die out.”

* * * *

Grease from the last blackened bits of meat dripped from the spit into the fire, which hissed and crackled. Odessa licked the oily sheen from her fingertips and sighed. “That was delicious.”

“It may have to hold you until we get to Phoenix.” Zach stood and extended his hand. “Are you ready to get going?”

She lifted the hem of her skirt and peered at the tiny puncture wound on her calf, then clasped his fingers. “I suppose so. My leg has stopped throbbing and I feel fine.” Attempting to stand, she sagged back to the ground. “Whoa, I’m a little light-headed, and…” She grimaced. “This rabbit isn’t sitting too well on my stomach.”

He cast a wary eye at her. “You look a little pale.”

“I don’t feel good.” She covered her mouth and choked back her rising breakfast while gazing about for a private place. Why didn’t he go away? Be a gentleman?

“Do you want some water?” He held out a canteen.

She shook her head at his offer, scrambled to her feet and lurched away from him. Bumping against the edge of the wall she fell to her knees and vomited. She leaned against the adobe and heaved again and again, until at last her stomach muscles clenched, but found nothing left to spew. Exhausted, she closed her eyes. Humiliation welled and equaled her queasiness. Her cheeks burned hotter than the scorpion bite, but she shuddered at a sudden chill.

“Are you all right?” Zach called.

“Nothing hurt except my pride.” She took a breath and waited for her stomach to stop churning. Oh, for a pillow, a blanket and a soft bed. She needed Granny to bathe her forehead and bring her some tea and honey, but those days were long gone.

“Can I get you anything?” He stood over her, adding to her discomfort.

“No, thank you.” She took his offered hand and stood, then returned to the fireside, holding her stomach and grimacing at the vile taste in her mouth. “That meal was much better the first time around.” She feigned a smile.

“Sorry breakfast made you sick.” He kicked dirt over the waning fire, but wisps of smoke escaped and spiraled upward. Her gaze followed the white ribbon but stopped short when she noticed the broadness of his shoulders and how tall he stood. She compared herself to a filly next to a stallion. Her mind wandered to improper thoughts of having those muscular arms around her and she forgot her roiling stomach, but only for a moment. Another nauseous wave reminded her that she’d just vomited in front of him, yet here she was dreaming about ridiculous things. Had she gone mad from too much sun?

“I don’t seem to be taking very good care of you.” His voice jerked her from her thoughts.

“Goodness, you caught me daydreaming.” After smoothing her skirt, she swiped at a wisp of hair fluttering against her cheek. “No need to apologize. I probably shouldn’t have eaten something so… so heavy after being bitten. Live and learn my grandmother used to say. But, I’m fine now. We’d best get going. I don’t care to spend another night on the ground. I’ve had my fill of coyotes and scorpions.”

“Coyotes?” Zach’s brow rose in a perfect arch.

She shook her head. “That’s a long story and one we can share along the way to Phoenix if you really want.” She wadded her hair into a knot and plopped on her father’s hat.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?”

“Positive.” She lied and bent to retrieve her belongings, then straightened and slung her rifle over her shoulder. “I’m ready.” Her stomach grumbled, but she’d delayed him long enough.

Zach stepped closer. “Wait.” He ran his thumb across her lip and smiled down at her. “You still had a little breakfast on your mouth.”

She tilted her head back and peered up at him. Understandably, her cheeks warmed, but she puzzled over the heat drifting down her arms and into her chest. She licked her lips and took a step back, lowering her gaze to her disheveled dress. “Thank you. I suppose I must be a total mess.” She took the canteen, walked to a break in the bricks and sparing little water, rinsed her mouth.

“Given what you’ve been through, I think you look mighty fine.”

She turned to find him hunkered and rolling up his bedding. He stood and adjusted the brim of his hat. “We can ride double for a while.”

She widened her eyes. How had she never considered they had only one horse? Her throat constricted at the thought of sitting so close to him. She trailed behind, waiting while he secured their bedding to the back of the saddle. Her fists clenched at her sides. If only the two animals pulling Papa’s wagon hadn’t run away. She released a loud breath through pursed lips.

Zach jerked his head around. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Fine.” She swallowed. “I’m fine.”

He turned back to his task, and she quickly sniffed her underarm. What she wouldn’t give for a bar of soap and tub of water. She crossed her arms and waited.

Zach checked the cinch’s tightness one last time, hooked his left toe into the lowered stirrup and hefted himself astride. He reached down. “Grab hold.”

Odessa took his offered hand, and he yanked her up behind him like she weighed no more than a bag of feathers. After adjusting her skirt to hide her exposed legs, she shifted around, trying to find a comfortable niche against the bedrolls Zach had fastened behind the saddle.

“Are you settled?” he asked.

“Yes.” She gritted her teeth, reluctant to grasp him.

“You’d better hold on.”

“Like this?” She clutched his waist, but tried to maintain space between them.

“Tighter or you’re gonna slide off.” He took hold of her hands and pulled them forward until they met on his belt buckle. “There, that’s better.”

Better? If she got any closer she’d be inside his shirt with him. She felt his every breath, each movement of his muscles. His hand rested atop hers, making it impossible to loosen her grip. “Are you sure I’m not squeezing you too tight?” Her voice muffled against his shoulder.

“As if a little gal like you could.” He laughed then nudged Storm forward.

Odessa clung to Zach, her cheek resting against his shoulder. His shirt smelled of dust, sweat and soap—a strange but enticing odor. Instead of being repulsed, the mixed blend of masculinity drew her closer. Her innards quivered in an unusual way. Everything seemed so strange, of late.

Zach sat taller in the saddle, keeping perfect unison with Storm’s gait. The shifting friction between her bosom and his back caused her skin to tingle. She finally found a matching rhythm, closed her eyes and tried to make sense of everything. The growing heat, the rocking motion, her queasy stomach… she felt so drowsy.

“Now, tell me about those coyotes,” he said.

Her mouth widened into a yawn. She’d much rather nap, but she’d promised to share the tale.

* * * *

“Luckily, I had Pa’s gun and killed the coyote before he got me.” Odessa sighed as she finished telling of her experience. The memory made the hair on her arms perk up.

Somewhere during the story, her queasiness eased, but her body ached and both arms grew numb from reaching around Zach’s middle. They hadn’t ridden very long, but she already yearned for a break. The beating sun and the heat radiating from him became unbearable. She lifted her cheek from against his back. “Would you mind if I walked a bit?”

He stiffened. “Are you feeling sick again?”

“I’m not gonna throw up on you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She chuckled. “I just feel like stretching my legs.”

He reined Storm to a halt and glanced over his shoulder. “Slide off.” He held her arm to steady her.

Once on the ground, she pressed both hands to the small of her back and sighed. “It’s been a while since I’ve ridden, and I fear I’m out of shape.”

He dismounted and pulled the reins over Storm’s head, stepping around to lead the horse. “I don’t feel right letting a lady walk while I ride. I’ll join you if you don’t mind. Let me know when you’re ready to mount up again.”

They walked on in silence as the morning air grew hotter. Odessa removed her hat and swiped her sleeve across her brow. With only the sound of Storm’s hoof beats on the hardened path, the silence begged to be broken. “So, tell me about the job you’re taking.”

“U-uh, I heard the stage company has openings for someone to ride guard.” He kept his gaze fixed on the ground.

“That sounds dangerous. But what if they hire someone before you get there? They could, you know. Then I’ll be at fault for delaying you.” Her mouth arched into a frown.

She expected a response, but he said nothing. A glance up at him showed determined eyes staring forward and his lips pulled into a thin line.

“Never run a bluff with a six-gun.” —Bat Masterson

Chapter Six

Zach’s jaw tensed. Did she ever run out of questions? Her nosy inquiry into his business had forced him to tell more lies. Trying not to show his annoyance, he smiled at her. “Don’t worry. The ad in the Phoenix Gazette said they needed several men handy with a rifle. They have more than one coach, you know.” He smothered a sigh with a whisk of his hand across his mouth. If only the job he described truly awaited him.

“I’m happy to hear that.” She flipped an errant hair away from her face and fell silent for a moment.

He enjoyed the quiet, but kept stealing glances at her. Those bow-shaped lips, that slight upturn to her nose, and those sky blue eyes that sparkled like a child’s at Christmas time—food for a starving man. Why couldn’t he have come upon an ugly gal?

She lifted her long locks from the back of her neck. “Whew! I don’t know which is hotter, wearing a hat or letting my hair hang free.”

Zach stopped and handed her the reins. “Wait a minute. I may have an answer.” He bent and pulled a pocket knife from his boot, then disappeared to the other side of his horse. In a moment, he returned with a piece of rawhide. “Reckon I can live with one tie on my saddlebag.”

Odessa handed back the reins and her hat, then secured her hair with the leather strip. She placed a gentle hand on his sleeve. “Thank you. That was very kind of you.”

She’s just a young girl. The reminder did nothing to halt the added warmth creeping through his thin shirt material and heating his arm. His mouth turned dry and he licked his lips. “No problem. You ready to ride a ways?”

“I think I am. The ground is burning through my shoes.” She plopped her hat back atop her head, looking more like a lady with her hair not totally hidden. Darn, she kept getting prettier and prettier.

He mounted and hauled her up behind him. As he nudged Storm forward, he glanced over his shoulder. “I have some biscuits and bacon in my bag. When you get hungry, let me know.”

She grasped him tighter around the middle and laughed. “I’m hungry right now, but I think I’ll wait a bit. I still taste that rabbit from breakfast.”

* * * *

Storm’s coarse hair chafed Odessa’s skin. The inside of her thighs burned hotter than the sun on her back. Zach had stopped only long enough for them to share a meager meal and some water before pressing on. She’d tried dozing against his shoulder, but whenever she relaxed, her arms turned limp, and the sensation of falling jerked her awake.

Like fingers of fire, ribbons of orange and red from the hovering sun appeared on the distant horizon. Cooler air raised goose bumps on Odessa’s arms. How could a person be sizzling one moment and cold the next? She snuggled closer to Zach and drew warmth from his back.

“Are we going to stop for the night?”

“I was planning on doing just that. Sorry, there’s nothing but open spaces tonight, but I’ll build us a fire and we’ll be fine.” He reined Storm off the road, onto a stretch of ground somewhat free of cactus and scrub. “This looks like as good a place as any.”

If stopping meant she didn’t have to ride for a while, any place suited her. She slid off Storm’s back, wincing when her feet touched the ground. Every part of her ached, and not just from chafing. She rubbed her backside. “I never had plans of becoming a horsewoman, but now I’m certain I won’t.”

“Ah, you get used to riding after a while.” He laughed and gathered the bedrolls from behind the saddle.

She shook her head. “I’m riding as far as Phoenix, and then it’ll be a wagon or buckboard for me.” She meant what she said.

The setting sun changed daylight to hues of pink. Zach pitched the bedrolls to her. “Here, make yourself useful. Find a clean spot and spread these out while I gather up some fodder for a fire. It’s gonna be dark pretty quick.”

Hobbling on stiff legs, Odessa inspected the ground for a place free of stones and debris. She settled on a site then realized the need to relieve herself—quickly. Her gaze scanned the distance, searching for some sort of privacy, but she saw none—only Storm, grazing in the distance.

God, she couldn’t hold her bladder any longer. Here was a chance to find out if her companion was a true gentleman. She swallowed. “Uh, Zach, I need to…” She gazed around and truly realized her options.

He turned. “Need to what?” The question made his brow rise.

She released a huge breath that fluttered her lips. Her cheeks heated. “Need to relieve myself, and I require some privacy. Given that there is absolutely nothing to hide behind, I wonder if you might be so kind as to give your word to keep your back turned while I do my business.”

“Is that all? You might be interested to know I take no delight in watching a person pee. If you’ll garner any sense of privacy, feel free to hunker on the other side of Storm. I’m sure he’d rather eat than peek at you.” Zach laughed.

Any embarrassment fled and anger surged through her veins. Her jaw tensed. “Go ahead. Make fun of me. I’m not used to dropping my bloomers in front of a complete stranger. Men seem to have things so much simpler than we ladies. You sir, are rude and uncouth.” She turned and stomped across the loose sandy soil toward Storm.

* * * *

The last embers of the fire crackled and died. Zach made no move to stoke the flames and pushed his blanket down around his waist. He laced his hands behind his head and stared at the sky.

He should have been more considerate of Odessa. But heck, he’d never been around females much, other than the painted floozies he generally ignored in the local saloon. Rolling to his side, he gazed across the smoking fire pit. Her back was to him. He meant to apologize, but he’d wait until morning. Boy, she’d been madder than a coiled rattlesnake earlier. He’d found not peeking at her when she squatted behind Storm quite hard to resist.

A stone jabbed at Zach’s hip. He grumbled and rolled to his other side, fighting the blanket wrapped around his feet. He kicked free and stretched out on his back again. Earlier, he’d felt chilled, but the cooling breeze had died down and allowed the air to warm again—overly warm if the sweat forming on his brow was any indication.

Sleep evaded him. He sat up and stared into the shadowy distance. His thoughts swept from Odessa to the job waiting for him in Charleston. If he hadn’t been saddled with her, he would have reached his destination and…

And what? Been killed? Robbed the stage and headed home with money to save the ranch? He blew a breath through pursed lips and splayed his fingers through his hair. If only he could travel back in time and take back the agreement he’d made with the fellow in the saloon. His drink must have been laced with loco weed to have agreed to hook up with strangers and rob a stagecoach. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the name of the man with whom he’d struck the deal.

Zach stretched out on his blanket again, then rolled to his side and tucked his arm beneath his head. As he started to close his eyes, Odessa released a soft snore that drew his attention. She rolled over.

He snared a quick breath. His habit of alluding to her as a child diminished at the sight of her profile. This was no youngster just a few feet away. Her pert nose, full lips, and even more, the ample breasts straining against the confines of her dress, belonged to a young woman. After all she’d been through—a mature young woman, at that. He propped himself up on his elbow and studied her face.

As if his gaze woke her, she opened her eyes, turned and fixed her stare on him. “What are you looking at?”

“Uh…uh, I couldn’t sleep.”

“And so you decided to watch me?” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Hmm, I wonder what time it is.” She yawned.

“You haven’t been asleep all that long. It’s still a long time till morning, so you’d best snuggle back down.” He rolled to the opposite side and pulled the edge of his blanket up to his chin. He’d long ago become accustomed to the ever-changing Arizona climate. Hot one minute, cold the next. He’d much rather be cuddling with her. “Goodnight,” he called to her. “We’ve got a lot of riding to do tomorrow.”

Zach closed his eyes, wondering what must be going through her mind. How often did you wake to find someone staring at you? He heard her stir.

“You were thinking about leaving me here alone, weren’t you?” Her accusation stung. “I know you’re worried about getting to your job and feel sorry you found me. I want you to know you can go. I’ll find my way just fine.”

He jerked upright and glared at her. “I said I’m taking you to Phoenix, now go to sleep.” He didn’t mean to snap at her, but the thought of leaving her had crossed his mind. There was no way he could now.

* * * *

Odessa’s scream filled the night.

Zach bolted from a sound sleep and reached for his rifle. His heart thudded against his breastbone.

“No, not Papa.” Odessa, her eyes still closed, screamed again and thrashed about in her bedroll.

Zach released his relief in a whoosh of air, let go of his rifle then scrambled across to where she lay. Gathering her in his arms, he caressed her cheek. “Hush, now.”

She sagged against him, whimpering like the pup he once had.

He brushed tousled hair back from her face. “Everything is all right. You had a bad dream.” Her body trembled and sent strange shock waves through his.

Odessa pushed him away and rubbed both hands up and down her face. “It was awful… like living the whole thing over again.”

Zach rested his arm around her shoulders. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Daylight peaking over the distant horizon lit the desert floor and tinted the sky in shades of orange. She lowered her hands to her lap and flashed a half grin. “Thank you, Zach. I’m beholden to you.”

The appreciative look in her eyes touched his heart. He wanted to hold her, kiss her and tell her everything would be fine, but he didn’t dare. If he wanted her to respect the honorable man he claimed to be, he’d have to show her he was one.

Drawing his arm away, he stood and brushed the dust from the knees of his jeans. “We’d best get things rounded up and get on the trail. I can tell today’s gonna be another hot one.”

She peered up at him. “When you do think we’ll get to Phoenix?”

“Maybe late tomorrow, if we’re lucky.” Funny, he didn’t feel lucky. Despite feeling irked at finding her earlier, he dreaded that their time together would soon end.

She got to her knees and started rolling up her blanket. “I can’t wait to find Aunt Susan. I want this trip to be over.”

Zach’s shoulders sagged. He’d hoped for a different response. “Well, like I said, let’s get loaded up and get moving. We can gnaw on a biscuit while we ride.”

While Odessa splayed her fingers through her hair, grumbling about the tangles, he loaded their gear on Storm. He turned and found her hand shielding her brow as she squinted into the distance.

“Look.” She pointed down the trail. “What’s that?”

Dots on the horizon became a growing cloud of dust. “Hmm, look’s like riders a comin’.”

“Where the Indian killed one buffalo, the hide and tongue hunters killed fifty.” —Chief Red Cloud

Chapter Seven

Odessa’s eyes widened. “You don’t suppose they could be Indians, do you?”

Zach shook his head. “Nope, redskins are too smart to let you know they’re coming. Probably just someone like us…headin’ someplace and wantin’ to get there.”

“That’s a relief. I’ve never seen a redskin and I’m certainly not anxious to.” She grasped her neck with both hands and tilted her head from side to side. “Lordy, sleeping on this hard ground sure makes a body sore.”

Zach grinned but kept squinted eyes trained on those approaching. “Looks to be three riders coming our way.” He inched towards Storm…and his rifle. One couldn’t be too careful, with highwaymen preying on innocent victims.

A pang of guilt tore through his gut. Wasn’t that the very thing he was on his way to become before Odessa upset his plans?

The approaching trio drew near, rode off the trail and reined their mounts in front of Zach. The cloud of dust following them quickly engulfed him and Odessa. She sputtered and coughed, then hid her face behind her hat. Zach covered his nose and waited for the dirt to settle.

The burliest of the three riders leaned forward on his saddle horn. “Howdy. You folks doin’ all right?” He glanced from Zach to Odessa and back again, displaying yellowed teeth in a wide grin. Like his companions, the man’s face sprouted stubble from days of missed shaving, and his clothing bore a thick layer of grit. He reeked of rancid sweat.

“We’re fine, thank you. Where you headed?” Zach pretended to rest his hand on Storm’s saddle, keeping a leery eye trained on the men. The other two men, obviously younger, shamelessly ogled Odessa. Tension snaked along Zach’s spine.

“Headin’ to Phoenix. You?” The spokesman spat a stream of tobacco into the dirt then swiped his shirtsleeve across his mouth.

After motioning for Odessa, Zach rested his arm around her shoulders and gathered her close. “Me and the wife are headin’ for Charleston to visit family. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He gazed down at her, and winked, praying she’d follow his lead.

At her nod, tension drained from his shoulders. He swallowed a sigh and stayed close to his rifle.

The tobacco-chewer stood in his stirrups and looked around the camp. “Travelin’ pretty light, ain’t ya?” His gaze settled on Storm. “And, on one horse?”

Zach’s head bobbed up and down. “Yep, we started with two but lost one to snakebite. Had to double up, but we’re taking our sweet time. Can’t complain, cause one mount gives me more chance to cuddle with the little woman.” He pulled Odessa closer.

Odessa peered up at Zach and restrained raising her brow. She smiled as she imagined a wife would. He squeezed her so tightly, her shoulder ached, and the jostling that accompanied his words rattled her head. The little woman? Wife? Charleston? He must have a reason for lying, and she suspected the reason might be the unsavory characters only a few feet away. If pretending made them move along, she’d gladly play the part.

She fidgeted beneath the lustful leer of the two younger riders, feeling naked beneath their piercing stares. The speaker for the group fixed his gaze on her, too. “So, missy, how long you two been married?”

A lump formed in her throat. “Uh… o-only two months.” Odessa wrapped her arms around Zach and looked lovingly at her supposed husband. The truth: she needed to steady her trembling legs.

“That’s right, two whole months already. Hard to believe.” Zach nodded in validation. “And, if you fellas don’t mind, we need to get on the road. We’ve still a far piece to travel.”

“Us, too.” The big man settled in his saddle and reined his horse back toward the trail. He paused and shifted. The leather creaked beneath his weight. “Nice meeting up with you. Have a safe journey.”

“Likewise, I’m sure.” Zach doffed his hat.

As soon as the three riders moved back onto the trail, Zach placed his booted foot in the stirrup, mounted, then pulled Odessa up behind him. She quickly tugged her dress down over her bared legs and swallowed hard. She’d feel better as soon as some miles separated them from this mean-looking bunch. A horrible thought jumped into her head. What if they’d been the ones to find her rather than Zach? Her stomach knotted.

Zach nudged Storm forward before Odessa had a chance to settle herself, and she almost slid off. Gaining balance, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held on for dear life. “Next time, warn me,” she hissed.

He headed his horse back the way they’d come. “Don’t look back.” His voice drifted over his shoulder, but he kept his gaze forward. “My gut tells me not to trust ‘em.”

Odessa’s mouth went dry. “Mine, too. They looked at me liked buzzards viewing their prey.”

“I noticed. But I was outnumbered. We’ll just ride away and hope they don’t follow.”

“What if they do?”

“We’ll handle that, if and when it happens.”

“But we’re headed in the wrong direction.” Odessa inched closer and tightened her grasp around him.

Zach’s hand covered her clasped ones. “I realize that, but I’m not anxious to tangle with three armed men. Besides, I really need to get to Charleston. I promise I’ll get you a train ticket to Phoenix as soon as we arrive.”

“What about helping me find my Aunt?”

His chin sagged to his chest. He patted her hand. “I hate to go back on my word after all you’ve been though, but I know you understand how important this job is to me. Meetin’ up with those scoundrels altered my good intentions. And, there’s no tellin’ how long they’ll hang out and see if we told the truth. I’m not willin’ to take the chance and turn back. Are you?”

“I…reckon not. Aunt Susan had no idea Pa and I were on our way, so I guess there’s no hurry on my part. I just hate the idea of traveling alone.”

“Tell you what…” He turned his head and smiled. “If you can stand my company for a bit, I’ll earn the money I need, then see you to Phoenix myself.”

She rested her head against his shoulder and sighed. “Granny always said beggars can’t be choosers, so I suppose I don’t have much choice.”

Odessa would allow him to go back on his word this time, but she intended to hold him to the promise where he vowed he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

* * * *

They rode for quite a while when Zach reined in Storm. He glanced back at Odessa. “Wanna get off and stretch your legs? My neck’s kinked from lookin’ over my shoulder, but I think we’re safe.”

She didn’t need a second invitation and slid to the ground. After holding onto him so tightly, her back ached. Hands planted on her hips, she rocked from side to side. Thoughts of the three strangers still worried her, but she stopped nibbling her bottom lip and glanced up at Zach. “Are you sure we’re safe?”

“If they had wanted anything from us, I think they would’ve followed. I’m guessin’ where they were headed was more important than us.” He dismounted, and holding Storm’s reins in one hand, pushed his hat farther back on his head. “Might be they were telling the truth and had no other intention than reaching Phoenix.” He flashed Odessa a less-than-convincing smile.

She shrugged. “Why don’t I believe that?”

“Like I said, it’s clear they ain’t followin’ us, but we’re losing daylight.” Zach remounted and stretched out his hand to her. “I’m sure everything will be fine. We’ve wasted some time, but like my Pa says, saving one egg from the fox is better than letting him empty out the henhouse.”

Odessa snuggled up behind him, grinning at his words. “If that means I’m the egg you saved, then I agree with your pa.”

Zach laughed. “I have a million sayings I can share with you. Pa’s the master when it comes to makin’ ‘em up. When we get to Phoenix, I’ll introduce you to him before we set off to find your Aunt Susan.”

“I’d like that.” Odessa held on as Storm lunged forward, and relaxed when the gait smoothed. A veil of grit drifted over her and tickled her nose. She’d settle for slow but sure any day. The few times Zach had urged the animal into a trot, Odessa had almost been unseated. The bouncing rattled her teeth and jostled her brain. She tilted her chin up toward his ear. “So…how far is Charleston?”

* * * *

The sun sat higher in the sky and beat down with relentless heat. Odessa favored the rawhide strip to confine her hair and let her hat dangle down her back. Sweat beaded on her brow and dripped into her eyes, stinging with fury. She squinted and swiped at the salty dew with the back of her hand. Adhered by their closeness, wetness seeped through Zach’s shirt and dampened the front of her dress, but she dared not complain. His patience with her already seemed thin.

He passed the canteen back to her. “Best keep your whistle wet in this heat.”

She took a sip, licked her parched lips, then handed the container back. “I wish those scoundrels had never come along. We’d probably be almost to Phoenix by now.” She clenched her teeth. Hadn’t she just reprimanded herself for complaining?

Zach stiffened and sat straighter. “Are you having second thoughts about Charleston?” Annoyance tinged his voice.

God, that was the last place she wanted to go. She’d much rather be safe with Aunt Susan in Phoenix than being in a place where her closest acquaintance would be the stranger she rode into town with. “I-I…”

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Fine bunch of thanks I get for saving your life… not once, but probably twice. I’ll be happy to put you on the first stage back to Phoenix. I never asked to find you in the first place.”

Tears welled and stung her eyes. A lump formed in her throat. “I’m so sorry. I really am very thankful for all you’ve….” She hiccupped into a sob that choked off her words. All her pent up fear, anger, hurt, and worry knotted in her stomach, begging for release. Surrendering to the overwhelming emotion, her body sagged against his back and her tears mingled with the sweat already dampening his shirt.

Zach cursed under his breath. Now he’d done it—made her bawl. That wasn’t his intention. He’d just been letting off some steam. “Please don’t cry,” he muttered, reining in Storm.

Odessa’s sobs muffled against his back, and he feared moving too much lest she fall to the ground. Zach massaged the furrow between his eyes. “Please. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I want my Pa.” Her voice trembled and ripped at Zach’s heart like a knife.

He’d never felt so helpless. She’d plastered herself to him and he couldn’t move—couldn’t even look at her. He shuddered each time she sobbed.

“Odessa, please slide down.” He extended his arm behind his back. “I can’t be much help here in the saddle.”

Her fingers locked around his and she did as he’d asked, but landed in a heap on the ground, wailing like a wounded pup. He removed his hat and splayed his fingers through his matted hair. He sorely lacked experience with soothing a frantic woman, but he couldn’t let her grovel in the dirt. Zach plopped his hat back atop his head and dismounted. “Ah, you’re gonna get yourself all dirty.”

Another sob came as his reward. Clearly more soil on her ripped and torn frock held little concern for her.

He knelt. “C’mon, Odessa. Get up and dry your tears. I said I was sorry, and I meant it.”

She lowered her hands from her streaked face and peered at him through clouded eyes. “I’m so alone.” Her voice crackled, and she went back to sobbing.

Zach gathered her into his arms, and stood, bringing her to her feet. His fingers smoothed her hair and he held her tight. Her petite frame barely reached his chin. “Don’t worry your pretty head. I may not be much, but you’ve got me to take care of you.”

She tilted her face up to him, her lips quivering. “D-do you mean that?”

He mustered every ounce of strength not to lower his mouth and claim hers. He stepped back and cradled her face between his hands “Course, I do.”

The pull was too great. Even with dirt smearing her porcelain skin, she looked beautiful. Before reason halted him, he did the unthinkable—he kissed her.

‘’I’m not afraid to die like a man fighting, but I would not like to be killed like a dog unarmed.’’ —Billy the Kid

Chapter Eight

At the touch of Zach’s lips against hers, Odessa’s eyes widened. The brim of his hat obscured the sun, hiding everything except his face. She’d never noticed how thick his lashes were, or the broadness of his nose, especially at the bridge. He smelled of wood smoke, sweat and leather, odors she found repulsive on their own, but combined, attracted her like Grandma’s preserves brought flies. She clenched her eyes closed and clasped her stomach to quell the strange fluttering.

Soft and warm, his mouth defied her to pull away. Her legs trembled. His darting tongue probed at her lips, and her breath seized. What was her part in this? She had no idea how to respond. She backed away, leaving him mid-pucker and blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

The look in Zach’s eyes harkened back memories of the disappointment reflected on Pa’s face whenever she’d let him down. Her emotions surged like stoked flames. She’d just experienced her first kiss and didn’t know what to make of it. Her foray into anything romantic left her confused but wondering where the kiss would have led had she not shied away.

Zach straightened and jammed his hands into his pockets. He stared at the ground and scuffed the dirt with his boot. Their mutual silence made the moment even more awkward. Finally, he lifted his gaze. “I-I ’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I reckon I was tryin’ to make you feel better.”

Odessa swallowed hard. “I’m not sure what one says after such an experience.”

Zach removed his hat and grasped the brim with both hands, holding it belt buckle high. He lowered his gaze. “I truly apologize for taking such liberty, Odessa. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

She traced the outline of her lips, letting her fingers linger to cover her smile. “I’m not angry with you, Zach.”

He took a deep breath. “That’s a relief. It would make the trip a whole lot longer if you had your hackles up.”

Laughter escaped her. “I didn’t realize I had hackles.”

“Yep, I know I’m not a real smooth talker, but you get my drift.”

“I do… and I should apologize for being such a baby. If I hadn’t become so weepy, you wouldn’t have felt the need to comfort me. So, let’s agree we’re both at fault and forget it happened.”

“It’s a deal.” Looking relieved, he plopped his hat back atop his head and smiled. “We’d best get movin’. We haven’t made much progress today.”

Odessa forced her gaze away from his full lips and slapped the dust and dried grass from her skirt. Only a few moments ago, she’d tasted him—and liked it. She ignored her fluttering stomach and cleared her throat. “I’m ready to go when you are.”

* * * *

“Why are we heading this way?” Odessa fully expected to pass by the old adobe ruins where they’d stayed the night, but Zach reined Storm onto another trail. She squinted into the sun, much preferring the previous route where the heat singed her left side instead of hitting her full in the face.

“It’s a shortcut.” Zach pressed his hand against the crown of his hat as a gust of wind stirred a dust devil across their path.

Shifting her weight to ease her cramping thighs, she tightened her grasp about his waist. Her mind spun with reflections of the kiss, and she fretted over what else might happen. She forced her thoughts to something else. “Do you suppose it’s May already?”

“I reckon it is. I left for Charleston on April 30th. Why do you ask?”

“Cause my birthday is this month.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “What day?”

“The tenth. Pa and I were gonna…” Words failed her as a lump formed in her throat. She’d never see the gift her father promised to buy once they got to Phoenix.

Zach turned forward again. “It’s not polite to ask a lady’s age, so I won’t, but you can tell me if you want.”

“How old do I look?”

He chuckled. “I’m not fallin’ for that old trick. No matter what I say, I’ll be wrong.”

“Eighteen.” Her voice pierced the momentary silence. “I can’t believe how fast time passes.”

Zach snapped his fingers. “Dagnabit, I should’ve guessed. I’d been right.”

“Sure, you would have.” She gave him a playful smack on the arm. “You had no idea of my age, did you?”

“Well, I knew all along you weren’t a child.”

“Really? How?”

“W-well…When I first found you, I-I…”

Realizing his discomfort, she giggled. “Never mind. I’ll take your word for it.”

Her thoughts drifted, and she sighed. “Seems like just yesterday Momma taught me to sew buttons…” Another lump formed in Odessa’s throat, and she fought welling tears. The image of her mother’s face filled her mind. One by one, Odessa had lost everyone she loved.

“I can’t remember my Ma.” Zach’s voice startled her. “Don’t even have a tintype of her, but Pa says she was real pretty.”

Odessa swiped her eyes with her sleeve and straightened. “At least you still have your pa. I’ll bet he’s proud of you for traveling so far to take a job.”

Her words pierced his heart like a knife. What father would be proud to claim a thief as his son? And that’s what Zach planned to become. An outlaw.

“Don’t you think?” She tapped his shoulder.

“About what?”

“Your father, and how he must feel about you. I imagine if I had a son and he took a job in another city just to save our land, I’d be bustin’ my buttons.”

Zach coughed. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure. I’ve been thinking. I really don’t want to travel back to Phoenix alone, and I don’t want to rush you, so what would you say if I tried to get a job in Charleston and earn some money? I’d much rather present myself to Aunt Susan with a little cash of my own rather than becoming an immediate burden to her.”

Zach jerked his head around and glanced back at her. “What kind of job?”

“I don’t know.” She nibbled her bottom lip and stared into the distance.

“Surely you haven’t worked before… except maybe gathering eggs and beatin’ the dust out of a rug or two.”

Her body turned rigid against his. “Well, thank you for the vote of confidence.” Frost tinged her tone. “I’m sure I can find something. Perhaps working in the local mercantile, or maybe there’s a seamstress in need of someone who sews perfect buttons.”

He faced front, cringing at the limited opportunities for a girl with her upbringing. Releasing a breath, he rearranged his thoughts. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just—”

She dropped her hands from around his waist. “Your meaning is quite obvious. You think I’m just a poor little farm girl who has no talents save the few chores I did around the house.”

Boot leather was beginning to have a familiar taste from having his foot in his mouth so often. “Honest. I’m sorry, Odessa. Even if you’re mad, you’d best hang on so you don’t fall. We already know I’m not much good at doctoring, and we’ve still a far piece to go.”

Her arms crept back around his middle but she maintained distance between their bodies. Her silence spoke louder than any tongue-lashing she could give him.

He yanked at the kerchief around his neck, searching for the right words. “Shoot, what I was trying to say is, Charleston is a wild town. I’m not sure a genteel young woman like you would want to spend much time there. I’ve no doubt you have many talents.”

She snuggled against him again, her fingers interlocking over his belt buckle. “There must be other civilized people in town.” Her warm breath assailed his neck and caused a tightening in his groin. “I’m quite used to seeing rowdy cowpokes get all liquored up at the local saloon. That’s one of the reason’s Pa wanted to leave Charleston.”

Zach yanked at the fabric between his legs. He took a breath and glanced back at her. “Then that’s all the more reason to make your stay in Charleston a short one.”

Her lips pulled into a pout. Was he being too overbearing? He wasn’t her pa, after all.

“I say we wait and see what happens when we get there.”

The authority in her voice stunned him. He nodded. Her proposal sounded like a fine solution to their disagreement. Once she viewed the lawless town, she would likely be anxious to head for Phoenix.

* * * *

Odessa’s inner thighs burned and her back ached from arching her arms around Zach for so long. She raised her cheek from his back and peered over his shoulder. Her lethargy turned to excitement. “What’s that ahead?” She pointed at a small building in the distance.

“Stage stop. Figure we could spend the night, if they have room.” Zach lifted one hip from the saddle and stretched to the opposite side and groaned. “Is that all right with you?”

“Anything to get off this horse. A bed of cactus sounds good about now.”

“Something hot to eat would be nice, too.”

“Oh, I’ll say. I can almost taste a hot biscuit and some jam.”

Zach patted her knee. “I see smoke rising from the chimney, so someone must be cooking.”

Odessa sighed. How wonderful to finally sit on something more comfortable than a horse’s rump—something unmoving and stable. Thoughts of cleaning the grit from her face in a cool bowl of water and enjoying a night’s rest indoors made her smile. She barely waited until Storm reached the hitching post before she slid to the ground. The cabin’s weathered exterior looked almost gray with age, and the wooden porch slats gaped beneath a single bench against the wall.

Zach dismounted and flung the reins over the railing. “Hello inside.”

No answer came and Odessa glanced around the dusty yard. Six horses meandered inside a large corral. Harnesses hung on the fence posts over a full water trough. Nearby, the doors of a small shed stood open, displaying hay bales, neatly stacked, one with a pitchfork protruding from it. The scene reminded her of home and her eyes hazed with tears.

“Hello. Anyone home?” Zach called out again then stepped up on the plank porch.

Fearing she looked a mess, Odessa smoothed her soiled dress and whisked her wayward hair behind her ears. “Maybe they’re hard of hearing. My Grandpa was.”

Zach rapped on the door, and it came ajar. He flashed a raised brow at Odessa and grasped his holstered gun. “Don’t move,” he mouthed.

With one swift kick, he sent the door crashing open, then waited for a reaction from within. When none came, he pulled his weapon and crept inside.

Odessa held her breath, her hand at her bosom to quell her pounding heart. The eerie silence made the hair on her neck prickle. Where was Zach?

She took a step toward the cabin as Zach appeared in the doorway. “Stop. There’s nothing in here you need to see.”

“What do you mean? What happened?” She interlaced her nervous fingers.

Zach holstered his gun and slowly shook his head. “They’re dead. All of them.”

“Leave me alone and let me go to hell by my own route.” —Calamity Jane

Chapter Nine

Odessa grasped her neck and swallowed hard. “Dead? How many?”

Zach pulled the door closed. “Three. Two men and a woman. Looks like they never had a chance. Their plates haven’t been touched, the coffee pot still felt warm, and…” His voice crackled and faded.

She massaged the bridge of her nose. “Who would do such a horrible thing? And why?”

“Stages stop here throughout the day and night. Some carry money, and my guess is the second fellow inside rode in with some cash to be transported. The house has been ransacked, so maybe the killers found whatever they were looking for.”

“H-how did they die?” Odessa hated being morbidly curious, but the thought of three souls laying close by gnawed at her. “Did they suffer?”

“It doesn’t appear so. All three were shot. One man and the woman at the table, and the other fella, near the fireplace.”

Zach removed his hat and swiped his sleeve across his brow. He gazed at the animals in the corral. “I don’t think anyone will mind if we borrow a horse. If we don’t have to ride double, we can make better time. I’ll see if I can find a saddle in the shed.” He plopped his dusty Stetson back on his head and started across the yard.

Odessa grabbed his arm. “We can’t just leave them here like this.”

He stepped back and furrowed his brow. “Another stage will be by soon. Someone will tend to them. We best get going.”

She pulled herself up to her full height and squared her shoulders. “I had to abandon Pa because I had no choice, but I’ll be dang if I’m gonna leave without giving these folks a proper burial. While you’re looking for that saddle, find a shovel or two. I’m going inside to prepare them to meet their maker.”

Steeling herself with a deep breath, Odessa pushed open the door. Her churning stomach belied the strength she struggled to find. One man slumped at the table, his head in his plate and blood mingling with his uneaten eggs. The woman, she assumed was his wife, lay on the floor; her open eyes fixed in a vacant stare. A crimson stain colored the side of her face and gathered into a pool beneath her graying hair. Another man, as Zach said, had crumpled near the fireplace, his pipe still clutched in his hand. Odessa fought the urge to flee. The chore at hand wasn’t pleasant, but necessary. She recalled what to do from helping ready her grandmother for burial.

The water bucket on the counter sat full. Odessa filled a nearby metal basin to the brim and snared the rag hanging on a hook beneath the window. Balancing the bowl, she crossed first to the lady and knelt. Pain gripped Odessa’s heart at seeing a half smile etched in death on the woman’s face. Probably fifty or so, she certainly deserved a better end to her life. Did she have children? Grandchildren? Who would let them know of their loss?

Zach’s steps rumbled the floorboards. “Can I help?”

“Yes, please. Can you put her husband here, next to her?”

“Sure…but this makes me real nervous. If someone comes along, how are we gonna prove we didn’t kill these people?”

She gave a dismissing wave. “If we’re the culprits, why would we take the time to bury them? It doesn’t make sense.”

He nodded. “I reckon you’re right. These folks deserve a decent send off and it looks like we’re the ones to give it to them.”

Odessa smiled. She expected more argument from him, so his instant agreement came as a pleasant surprise.

* * * *

Zach finished digging the third grave. Sweat trickled from his brow and burned his eyes. He removed his hat and fanned his face while trying to slow his heavy breathing. The strenuous shoveling proved he didn’t have the stamina he assumed he did. Grabbing a nearby canteen, he leaned on the shovel and took a long draw of water. He wanted to get this over with and move on before Odessa’s morals rubbed off on him and he changed his mind about heisting a stagecoach.

For a young woman, her sense of responsibility amazed him. He would have easily mounted up and left the three dead people where he found them. If not for her decency, he’d be miles away by now. Shame crept over him like a morning fog. Pa had raised him to do the right thing, but somehow amidst the worry of losing the ranch, Zach had forgotten everything but getting to Charleston.

He glanced around the desolate yard and heard nothing, a grim reminder that death lurked on silent feet. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, and suddenly, he felt very alone. He dropped the shovel and stalked toward the cabin, grimacing at the thought of Odessa asking him to speak over the deceased.

Zach stood in the open doorway. “I’m finished digging. Are you done?”

She stood next to the bodies of the husband and wife and nodded. Faces of both had been washed, their hair combed and eyes closed in peaceful slumber. Their hands rested reverently on their chests. Across the room, the second man’s wound had been washed and his clothing tidied. His pipe protruded from his shirt pocket.

Odessa massaged the nape of her neck. “There’s nothing more I can do.”

“I’ll carry them out then.” Zach struggled to heft the man closest to the hearth onto his shoulder then made his way outside. Not yet stiff, the corpse bent with ease, but Zach felt the added weight. He returned shortly for the husband, and lastly, he cradled the woman in his arms and approached the open door.

Preceding him, Odessa stopped at a small table next to a rocking chair, and picked up a worn Bible. “We’ll need this to read a Psalm for their souls.” She tucked it in the crook of her arm and led the way to the gravesite.

Zach followed, wondering how the three had met their end. Clearly, they had not been dead for very long.

* * * *

Odessa stared down at the fresh dirt furrows and shook her head. “It’s a shame we didn’t know their names. We could have properly marked the graves.”

“You’ve done far more than most folk would have in the same predicament. I thought the passage you chose from the Bible was right nice.”

“I’m glad you approved. The Twenty-third Psalm was my grandmother’s favorite.”

He cupped her elbow and walked her back toward the house. “While you put away the Bible, I’ll saddle up another horse.”

She gazed at the worn book binding. “I’m sure this has been in their family for ages.” Halting, she snapped her fingers. “That’s it! I’ll bet their names are in the front of the Bible. Most everyone records their family history there.” She thumbed through the opening pages. “Here it is!”

Zach rolled his eyes. “Surely, you don’t expect me to carve wooden markers for only two of the three. We have no idea who the second man was.”

She dipped her chin and sighed. “I reckon you’re right. God’ll know them on sight anyhow.”

* * * *

Having a saddled mount of her own felt much more enjoyable than rubbing against bristling horse hair. The brown mare seemed gentle enough and responded well to the reins, but Odessa missed the closeness she enjoyed while sharing Storm with Zach.

After another night of camping under the stars, she hoped she’d see journey’s end before long. The sound of hoof beats on the worn trail created a lulling melody, and she fought to keep her eyes open. The silence between her and Zach had worn on too long. She straightened in the saddle and cleared her throat. “Are you sure we’ll get to town before evening?”

He shrugged. “As sure as I can be. I’ve only been there once, and it was a long time ago. But, I’m sure we’ll get there by tomorrow at the latest.”

Her spirits sagged. If she had to sleep one more night on desert ground, amidst scurrying animals and crawling bugs, she’d scream. She cast a wistful glance at him. “I’m hoping for tonight. If anyone could grant my fondest wish, it would be for a nice, soapy bath. I swear I’m wearing half of Arizona.”

She turned her gaze back to the front and scanned the endless terrain of spiny shrubs, pebbled soil, and colorful mesas in the distance. Her image of a pleasing bath skidded to an unpleasant halt with the realization she owned only the dirty clothes on her back. “Zach,” she broke the silence again. “I hate to ask, but might I borrow some money when we get there? I can’t very well seek employment dressed in these filthy rags. I promise I’ll pay you back every penny.”

He nodded. “I don’t have much money on me, but I reckon I can afford a new dress.”

“And some new undergarments and stockings? Pretty please.”

“We’ll see… but first we have to get there.” He nudged Storm to a faster pace, stirring the dust and leaving her in his wake.

She sputtered and coughed, swishing her hand back and forth in front of her face. “Oh, I’ll get you for that. As if I wasn’t dirty enough already.” She dug her heels into her mount and sped by, her hat flapping in the wind, its strap tight around her neck. “Beat you to Charleston,” she called over her shoulder.

She urged the horse faster and faster, enjoying the wind in her face and hair. The easy gallop of the long-legged mare felt smoother than butter on a bun. Laughter bubbled inside Odessa, and new-found energy surged through her body. She stole another glance at Zach, giggling at the distance between them. His ego, no doubt, was in sad repair.

He jabbed a pointing finger in the air and mouthed something she couldn’t make out. She laughed louder and harder, determined to win the race she’d challenged him to. But facing forward, her heart seized. Her eyes widened at the sheer drop looming ahead. Frequent flash floods had carved a jagged gash deep in the desert floor. A rising scream froze in her throat. She leaned her weight against the saddle cantle and tugged with all her might on the reins. The animal’s head swiveled to the side, showing wild eyes and foaming slobber, but kept the hectic pace, heading straight for the edge. Odessa released the reins and grabbed the saddle horn with both hands. With eyes scrunched closed, she clenched her teeth and prayed.

“I see a good many enemies around, and mighty few friends.” —Bill Longley’s last words before he was hanged in 1878.

Chapter Ten

The mare jerked to a stop, almost unseating Odessa and sending her toppling over the animal’s head. She righted herself in the saddle, opened her eyes and peered over the cliff’s jagged edge. Her heart thudded like a smithy’s hammer against an anvil. She considered dismounting, but doubted her trembling legs would support her. Her mouth turned drier than the dust coating her hands.

Zach reined Storm in next to her. “What the hell were you thinking?”

She fidgeted beneath his beaded gaze. “I-I was only…”

“You could have been killed if your horse had tripped and thrown you.” The stern but protective edge to his voice reminded her of Pa’s.

“Tripped?” She craned her neck and peered over the bank into the gully below. “This ain’t no gopher hole.”

He laughed. “Animals might run themselves to death, but I’ve yet to hear about one jumpin’ off a cliff.”

“Well, excuse me for not being an experienced horsewoman. I never claimed to be one, you know? And…if I recall correctly, you raced past me first.”

Zach dipped his chin. “You’re right. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have egged you on like that.” He lifted his gaze and expelled a loud breath. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“Not nearly as glad as I am.” She smiled, and grappled for the reins. “I promise not to be so foolhardy again.”

“Sounds like a good idea for both of us. What say we continue on, but at a slower pace?”

* * * *

The horses’ hooves plodded a steady cadence on the worn trail winding down to a meager expanse of buildings and homes. Blinded by the orange orb hovering above the horizon, Odessa slanted a hand over her eyes and peered ahead. “Is that Charleston?”

“Yep.” Zach never wasted words.

She sighed. “Finally! For some reason I thought it would be bigger.”

“It’s big enough to get a hot meal, and I’m starving.” He nudged Storm with his heels and displayed a grin wider than she’d seen for days.

The thought of sitting down to a prepared supper did sound appealing, and she urged her mount onward. A bath, clean linens, new clothes, hot food—her smile broadened, too. “Pot roast,” she mumbled.

“What?” Zach slowed and glanced over at her.

“Pot roast!” she declared louder this time. “That’s what I’m gonna have.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m not challengin’ you to a race, but let’s pick up the pace. I can almost smell that beef from here.”

The blinding sun drifted below the taller buildings as she and Zach rode into town. Although the town looked deserted from a distance, horses of all colors stood tethered to the hitching rails lining the thoroughfare. Urine and manure soaked the areas around the animals, and the rancid odor hung in the air. Odessa held the reins with one hand and covered her nose with the other. “The smell sort of ruins the thought of dinner.”

“After a while, you won’t notice it.”

She raised a brow. “If you’re insinuating I’ll grow to like the smell, I assure you I won’t. Don’t forget I came from another town very similar to this.” She lowered her hand and crinkled her nose.

Zach shook his head. “Complaints, complaints.”

Odessa thinned her lips. Maybe he was right.

Down the main street, wooden walkways, elevated above the dusty street, looked gray with age and wear. The storefronts resembled those she’d seen in Tucson with their plate glass windows and fancy lettering. She made note of Miller’s Mercantile, the second stop she planned to make.

From the saloon a few doors down, gay piano music and bawdy laughter drifted into the air, and a man staggered out the swinging doors and fell into the street. A plump woman, her face a mask of make-up highlighting blood red lips and her blonde hair piled high on her head, followed him and stood with her hands on her hips, chastising the drunk. Surely, her harsh words weren’t the reason Zach stared. Her ample bosom heaved as though it might spill out from the low confines of her dress. Odessa averted her gaze and searched for a hotel.

An etched sign hanging overhead the walkway identified the haven she sought. “Look, Zach, Mrs. Hughes’ Boarding House.”

He dragged his gaze from the pair in front of the saloon and nodded. “Let’s tie up out front. I’ll take the horses to the livery after we eat.”

Stepping down from the saddle, Odessa stood on wobbly legs and hobbled up the few stairs to the front door. All eyes in the busy lobby turned in her direction as soon as she entered. Her cheeks warmed, imagining the people’s thoughts. The word “ragamuffin” came to mind. Her grandmother used the term to describe unwashed and unkempt souls passing through Tucson from time-to-time. How fortunate Granny couldn’t see her granddaughter now. Odessa meshed her fingers together and shifted her weight from one foot to another under the heavy stares. She focused on the floral sofas, wing-backed chairs and matching draperies. Even the woman’s eyes in the huge painting above the mantle seemed to glare at her.

Zach removed his hat and splayed his fingers through his flat hair. He nodded toward the dining room, clearly marked across the foyer from the mahogany check-in desk. Odessa smoothed her dirty skirt and tucked freed wisps of hair behind her ears. “I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered, reluctant to venture further.

He turned and took her soiled hand. “Don’t fret so. All kinds of folks travel through this town. Besides, you don’t know these people.” He tugged her in the direction of a room filled with crisp, white-covered tables a few feet away. Inside, the wonderful smell of fresh-baked apple pie filled the room. Her stomach rumbled.

She expected him to be a gentleman, but instead he plopped down and perused a hand-written menu with much the same interest as a man ordering his last meal.

Odessa cleared her throat. “Never mind, I can pull out my own chair.”

He glanced up, cheeks red. “Sorry, guess I forgot my manners.” He started to rise.

“No need.” She held up her hand and sat, snatching her own food list and holding it in front of her face. Despite her hunger, disappointment blurred the words. “I wonder if you would have remembered your manners if I dressed like the woman from the saloon.” Her thoughts tumbled out before she could halt them.

“Huh?” Zach glanced up. “You say something?”

“Nothing important.” She rubbed the tenseness from her jaw and noticed pot roast featured as “today’s special.” Hunger overcame her anger, and her mouth watered.

A red-haired woman clad in a starched apron appeared tableside, holding a pad and pencil. “What will you folks have this evenin’?” A sneer formed on her lips when she eyed Odessa’s dirty cuffs resting on the tablecloth. “Ya’ll just arrive? Water’s free in this here town if’n you be so inclined.” Her voice lacked warmth and welcome.

Zach locked gazes with her. “We’ve come a far piece to get here. Our next stop is the hotel to get a room and clean up, but we’re mighty hungry, and I would be most appreciative if you would stop judgin’ my lady friend and get us some grub. My pa always told me staring is rude.”

At his tone, the woman’s mouth gaped. She squared her shoulders and put pencil lead to paper, purposely avoiding eye contact. “Then, what’ll be.”

Odessa dipped her chin to hide a smile. Zach redeemed himself for forgetting to pull out her chair.

* * * *

After wiping her mouth with her napkin, Odessa tossed the soiled cloth onto her empty plate. She’d relished every bite, even eyed the last yeast roll and considered taking it for later, but she had nowhere to hide it. She leaned back in her chair, patted her full stomach and released a quiet sigh. “I swear that was the best meal I’ve ever eaten.”

Zach dug in his pocket and pulled out a small wad of bills. He thumbed through them then dug again for a handful of change. He spread the coins on the table and eyed them with a raised brow.

With a toothpick dangling from the side of his lips, he pushed his dishes aside and leaned in. “We’ve got a problem we need to discuss.”

She slanted forward in her chair, her palms turning damp at his announcement. “Is it serious?”

“Depends. If you want a new dress and those bloomers, or whatever, I’ll only have enough money to pay for one room for the next few days. I still have to feed myself and buy your stage ticket to Phoenix, like I promised.”

Only one room? She nibbled her bottom lip. Papa would spin in his grave…if he finally had one. It wasn’t seemly for a young lady to cohabit with a man unless they were married. But how different was that from traveling alone and sharing many a night under the stars? What choice did she have? Odessa shrugged. “I’m in no position to barter. I’d rather share a room with you than a stall with the horses.”

Zach snapped his fingers. “I forgot about that. I have to pay to stable the animals, too.” He stuffed the money back in his pocket. “Maybe I should sleep with the animals.”

“I won’t hear of it. If you pay for a room, then you’ll sleep in it.” Guilt weighed on her. “Maybe I can forgo everything but the dress. I can wash and mend m-my unmentionables.”

“We’ll see. Let’s mosey over to the desk and see what they’re chargin’ for rooms these days. There’s always a chance I can stretch my money a little farther.”

She glanced through the doorway and eyed the stern-looking man behind the hotel counter. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather wait here. I’ve already been insulted by the cook or whoever she was, so I’d like to avoid being judged by the hotel clerk.”

* * * *

Zach ambled back into the restaurant, his heart heavy. Now that he’d paid for the room, he planned to make sure Odessa got her new dress. She’d hoed a hard row, and he couldn’t bear to see her sad. As he’d already told her, they didn’t know these people, so he’d registered them as man and wife. No one would be the wiser.

He stood across the table from her and dangled one key. “Sorry, but I had to be practical.”

“I understand.” Her thin smile did little to bolster his decision. “A man can only do what he can do, and I’m no help at the moment.”

She emphasized that last part a little too clearly for his liking. He planned to allow her a day to rest, wash up, replace her clothing, then put her on a stage for Phoenix. He had a job to do, and he’d tarried far too long.

Walking around the table, he pulled out her chair and waited for her to rise. “Our room is on the second floor.” He handed her the key. “If you want to go on up, I’ve already asked that a tub and hot water be sent to the room.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, but…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have plenty of privacy. My pa didn’t raise a heathen, trust me. ”His gut twisted at his words. His pa didn’t raise an outlaw either, but somewhere in town a man waited to give him directions. For a moment, he wished he had Odessa’s positive outlook about the future. She acted so certain she could find a decent job. Maybe he could.

“I need to visit the mercantile first. Is it still open?” Her voice cut into his thoughts.

“Let’s go find out.” Zach opened the door for her and followed, still thinking about his dilemma. Even if he could find a decent job, it wouldn’t pay the money he needed. No matter how positive he tried to look at things, he kept coming back to the same conclusion. Robbing a stage was the only way to save Pa’s land.

Spying the mercantile down the street, he clasped Odessa’s hand and loped down the wooden stairs and onto the dirt, dashing between a buggy and a buckboard to reach the other side. The sun had set, leaving ribbons of color tinting the sky. A light inside the store shone through the front window. Zach opened the door, peering up at the little bell that tinkled when they entered.

“Howdy.” A bald man behind the counter greeted them with a smile. “How can I help you?”

“Are you fixin’ to close or do we have time to shop?” Zach asked.

“I always stay open for customers. When I lock up depends on the type of day I’m havin’.” The clerk’s portly stomach jiggled with his laughter. “You folks look around all you want. I’ve got some shelves to stock.”

Zach followed as Odessa made a beeline for a rack of ready-made dresses in a section he preferred to avoid. The tools, ropes, and saddles on the other side of the store beckoned. Tack held more interest than frilly ribbons, bonnets, and lacy undergarments, the likes of which he’d never seen before. He patted her shoulder as she flipped through the hangers, her eyes wider than silver dollars. “I’ll be over yonder.” He motioned across the main aisle.

“Wait!” She grasped his sleeve. “I need your opinion.” She picked up a blue gingham frock with one hand and a brown and white checked dress with the other. “Which do you like best?”

He shrugged. “They both look good to me.”

She put back the brown one and draped the blue across her front, holding out the wide skirt and dancing in a circle. Stopping, she peered up at him with those big, blue eyes and smiled. “I really like this one, and it’s a little less than the other. I only wish I had a ribbon to match.”

He looked at the tag hanging from the sleeve and raised a brow. He had no previous experience with buying a woman clothes, but the price didn’t seem extreme—in fact, was less than he’d figured. He plunged his hand into his pocket, counted out several bills, and handed them to her. “Go ahead and get a ribbon… and those other things you needed, too. Take your time. I’ll wait outside.” Every time she flashed that coy little grin, the crotch of his jeans grew tighter.

The dang bell rang again when he opened the door to leave. Outside, he rested his boot on a hitching rail and surveyed the streets, now quiet and abandoned. The horizon had gobbled the sun, and already a full yellow moon shone over the rooftops at the opposite end of the street. Piano music still drifted from the saloon, but most of the horses tied in front earlier were gone. A cool breeze fanned Zach’s collar, but did little to temper his growing feelings for Odessa. He had to get her on the next stage to Phoenix. If he didn’t, he’d compound the trouble he already faced.

“Good night, and thank you.” Zach turned to see the proprietor escort Odessa to the door then close and lock it behind her. She clasped her wrapped bundles to her chest as if protecting a treasure.

The light inside the store faded and turned dark, stealing Zach’s ability to enjoy the sparkle in her eyes. He took her elbow and guided her down the stairs to the street. “Did you get everything you needed?”

“I did… and thank you. Now I can’t wait to get into that bath.”

No matter how hard he tried to prevent them, images of her naked body played in his mind. Clearly, she had more of an effect on him than he’d planned. When had he started thinking of her less as a girl and more as a woman? He hadn’t really seen it coming. Now, outlined in the moonlight, her full lips, slender neck, and soft curves begged for attention. He wasn’t as experienced as most men but had learned in the bed of a local saloon whore who knew her trade well. Memories stirred his desire.

Clinging to his gentlemanly manners, he escorted Odessa to the lobby door and doffed his hat. “I promised you some privacy, so I’m gonna go see to the horses. I’ll be back to the room later.”

“But wait…” Her voice summoned him back. “Don’t you want to take a bath, too?”

He widened his eyes, afraid to ask the question that leapt into his mind. Was she proposing he join her?

“I want results when I fight.” —Frank James

Chapter Eleven

“Well?” Odessa cocked her head and stared at him.

Zach’s heart raced. Did a pig love to wallow in mud? She had his full attention, he just couldn’t believe the question. “Sure, I’d love—”

“Good. When I pass the desk, I’ll request more hot water for you.” Her response killed any notion he entertained of them sharing a bath.

Disappointment surged through him, but he forced a smile. “Oh… good idea.”

If she noticed a change in his demeanor, she didn’t show it. Her gaze wandered to a table in the sitting area. “I see they provide copies of the local paper. While you bathe, I’ll come back down and catch up on the news.” She scurried up the stairs, still clutching her parcels like she’d found a treasure.

Zach pushed his hat further down on his head and, with slumped shoulders, went back outside. At the hitching post, he untied the horses and led them toward the livery stable at the end of the dimly lit street. If the ride from the stage station had been a longer one, he wouldn’t have left the animals unattended for so long. A good cowboy always saw to his horse first and everything else came later. He reached back and rubbed Storm’s snout. “Forgive me, boy? Hunger got the best of me.”

As he neared the weathered building, a clanging noise in an adjoining lean-to grew louder. Zach stopped outside the closed entrance. “Hello inside,” he hollered. The hammering ceased and the door creaked open.

“Evenin’. Can I help you?” Soot and dirt covered the blacksmith’s apron. His muscular arms strained the material of his plaid shirt as he swiped beads of sweat from his brow.

Zach squared himself and glanced up at the man who stood a good foot taller. “Got a couple horses here that need tendin’. Do you have room?”

“Sure do. Take ‘em to the stable…double doors. Got four empty stalls, take your pick.” He pointed to his left.

Zach led the animals inside. The mingled odor of fresh hay, manure, and traces of smoke filled the stable. He put Odessa’s mare into one stall, then secured Storm in the other. After removing their saddles, bridles and blankets, he hung everything on the wooden railing separating the two animals. Then following the clanging, he found his way back to the lean-to.

The fire raging within a stone pit turned the air stifling. Zach’s gaze wandered to the assorted leather straps hanging on the wall, and then to the glowing horseshoe the smithy pounded atop a huge anvil mounted on a block of wood. Grimacing at the ear-splitting noise, he tapped the man on the shoulder while keeping a wary eye on the smoldering iron. “How much do I owe you?”

The blacksmith didn’t bother to look up. “You can settle when you pick up the animals. I charge two bits a day for board and feed.”

“Sounds fair. Thank y—” The resumed pounding drowned him out. Zach shrugged, then turned and sauntered out the door.

* * * *

Stabling the horses hadn’t taken nearly enough time for Odessa to bathe. Zach paused outside the boarding house, heaved a sigh, and retrieved the toothpick he’d stuck behind one ear. With the thin wood bobbing from his lips, he crossed his arms, leaned against the building and contemplated his future.

The scene at the stage station weighed heavily on his mind since arriving in town. He’d thrashed about the notion of reporting it to the sheriff, but given his own mission, wondered if making himself known to the law was such a good idea. The fact that Odessa hadn’t suggested it surprised him.

Before he talked himself out of notifying the law, Zach made a beeline for the Sheriff’s office. Pa would expect him to do the right thing. It might be the last honorable thing he’d do for a while.

Pausing outside, Zach rubbed a growing ache in the back of his neck. What he wouldn’t give to be ten years old again and not carry the weight of a man’s problems. He straightened and turned the knob.

“Evenin’, Sheriff.” He peered around the open door at the person seated behind a desk. “Got a minute to talk?”

“Sure, c’mon in and have a seat.” The graying man gestured toward an armless chair.

“I’d rather stand.” Zach removed his hat and held it waist high. Beneath it, the fingers of his other hand laced and unlaced. The lawman’s head-to-toe assessment made his stomach churn. The words he sought stuck behind a lump in his throat.

“Well…Speak up, young man.” The lanky lawman crossed his arms and waited.

“D-don’t rightly know where to start.” Zach swallowed. “Me and my lady friend stopped at a stage station a couple hours from town… and found three people dead inside.”

The sheriff straightened in his chair and leaned on the desk, eyes wide. “You can’t mean Gus and Netta Olson’s place? Why, I just saw them day before yesterday.”

Zach lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry, sir, but I believe we saw those very names in the family Bible. Were they an older couple?”

The lawman stood and combed his fingers through his thinning hair. “They were, but you said three people.”

“Yes, sir.” Zach gazed up. “Another man. Dressed right nice, he was. More like a banker than a wrangler.”

“No tellin’ who that was. So many people pass through there…” The Sheriff sank back into his chair. “Any idea who did it?” Creases marred his brow.

“Whoever killed them was long gone when we arrived. But, we buried all three next to the house and quoted the gospel over their graves.” He cocked his head. “Friends of yours?”

“Known them for a couple of years. Nice people. I’ll miss them.” His soulful eyes turned stony. “How do I know you didn’t do it?”

Zach fixed the man with a steady gaze. “Do you think I’d be dumb enough to come tell you about it if I did?”

“I guess you’re right. It would be a rather stupid thing to do. But…did you see anything suspicious? Anything that might help me find who—”

“The place looked like it had been ransacked and all three shot dead with a bullet to the head. I wish I could tell you more.”

The lanky lawman stood again and extended his hand across the desk. “I appreciate you stopping by, Mister...?”

Zach took the proffered palm. “Zach’ll do. And you’re welcome.”

“I’m Dan Brody, and if you think of or hear anything else that may help, let me know. There’s sure to be a reward. In the meantime, I’ll try to notify their next of kin.” He released Zach’s hand. “You stickin’ around a while?”

Was the lawman suggesting or asking? The hair on the back of Zach’s neck bristled. “Not for long. I have an errand to tend to then I’ll be on my way home.”

“Where’s home?” Brody smiled.

“Ah…Pho…I mean Tucson. Got a ranch there.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue.

“Well, have a safe trip…but a word of caution while you’re here. This town is growing rowdier by the day. You might have noticed the gallows just built at the end of the street. We’ll have a hanging as soon as the circuit judge gets here.”

* * * *

Zach’s boots thudded on the walkway as he made his way back to the boarding house. His visit to the sheriff’s office had gone smoothly enough, so why wouldn’t his stomach stop churning? Now he could tell Odessa he’d done the proper thing by reporting the killings to the local law official. At least he hoped he’d done the right thing. He glanced over his shoulder, searching for the structure the Sheriff had mentioned, and his breath seized.

Moonlight highlighted the gallows’ wooden framework at street’s end. A knotted noose quivered in a light breeze. Frozen in place, he grasped his throat and swallowed hard. Had the man about to be hanged robbed a stage? Zach turned away and hastened his stride. A hot bath at the boarding house sounded like just what he needed to relax and ponder his next move.

Ahead, two steps led to the elevated walkway in front of the saloon. As he raised his boot to ascend, a hand reached from a narrow alleyway and snared him into the darkness. Before he could call for help, a fist pummeled his midsection, stealing his breath and sending a jolting pain through his innards.

“My mother always said that I would die with my shoes on.” —Steve Long’s last words after having asked to have his shoes removed before he was hanged.

Chapter Twelve

Zach groaned, grabbed his stomach and doubled over. His hat tumbled into the dirt. Gasping for breath, he sank along a splintery wall and peered up into pitch blackness at the form looming over him. “W-who are you?”

“A messenger from Mr. Spence,” a deep voice rasped. “He wants to know what the hell is keeping you.”

“I…I planned to be here sooner, but I ran into a little problem.” Zach grimaced at the bile rising in the back of his throat.

“That little problem wouldn’t be a purty little blonde with blue eyes, would it?” The man guffawed. “I’ll gladly take her off yer hands.”

Still clutching his gut, Zach staggered to his feet. “That won’t be necessary. She’s leaving on the stage day after tomorrow. Tell your boss I’m…” He swallowed hard. “We can meet wherever he wants as soon as she’s gone.”

“I’ll deliver the message, but here’s a warning …Pete doesn’t take kindly to being disappointed. I’ll leave word at the boarding house about where to meet up with him.”

Moonlight cast a long shadow as the burly man stepped up onto the walkway and strode off. His musky smell lingered and blended with the strong stench of urine from the hitching rail on the street.

Zach took a few minutes to regain strength, then bent to retrieve his hat and stepped out of the alley. He slapped his Stetson against his pant leg, plopped it back atop his head and scanned both sides of the empty street. His stomach ached but the tension that gripped his body eased at seeing no trace of his assailant. How had the man known about Odessa, or even where they were staying, for that matter? Obviously, Pete Spence knew he’d arrived.

At slightly over six feet tall, Zach considered himself a big man, but after seeing the blacksmith and Spence’s messenger, he didn’t feel quite as intimidating. Could he have held his own if his attacker hadn’t taken him by surprise?

Ashamed of his trembling knees, he squared his shoulders and took a cautious first step. His gaze locked on the boarding house, and he hurried in that direction. Despite an easy gait, his footfall sounded like distant thunder in the silence. He breathed a sigh of relief once he stepped into the building. Hand on his roiling stomach, he made his way upstairs and knocked on the door at the top of the staircase.

“Who is it?” Odessa’s sweet voice called from inside.

“It’s me.” Zach bit his bottom lip as a pain zipped through his middle.

She opened the door and curtsied, sweeping the skirt of her new dress out to the side. A faint smell of lavender wafted around her. Ringlets from her upswept hair, still damp from her bath, hung in an attractive fringe about her slender neck. Her clean cheeks held a rosy hue rather than grit gray, and her eyes sparkled like the stars in the Arizona sky. For a moment he forgot his pain.

He flashed a wide grin. “My, don’t you look pretty.” He yearned to hold his aching belly, or at least, sit down, but he remained stoic—thumbs hooked in his front pockets.

Odessa’s smile disappeared. She snared his arm and pulled him inside. “What happened to you?” She walked in a circle, surveying him.

“Whadda you mean?” He shrugged, certain the movement etched pain on his face.

She stopped in front of him. “You’re as pale as a ghost, and have wood splinters sticking out of your sleeve. And...the seat of your pants looks like you rolled around in the dirt.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you all right?”

He cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I just took a little tumble.”

“Are you sure that’s all?” She raised a brow.

“Yep. A bath, and I’ll be fine.” He turned his face away and grimaced.

Her stockings hung from the back of the chair next to the window. He glanced down at her bare toes peeking out below her hem and sighed. “I wish I had enough money to buy you everything you need.”

What he really wished was that he’d never brought her here. Instead of finding a safe haven for her, he’d made things worse—brought her to a pit of vipers.

She caressed his cheek then crossed to the chair and fingered the white cotton draped there. “You’ve done more than enough. Soon as I find a job, I’ll be able to pay you back.”

Zach’s mouth gaped. Before he spoke she opened the door. “I’ll go ask someone to fetch your bathwater. I’ll be downstairs. Let me know when you’re finished so I can come back up.”

When the door closed behind her, Zach sunk onto the bed and cradled his head in his palms. The idea of joining up with Pete Spence and his gang had been foolish from the beginning, and involving Odessa made it worse. Somehow, he had to get her on the stage as soon as possible. Fatigued, he rolled back onto the bed like a melting candle. He stared at the ceiling, seeking answers, but none came. A knock on the door set his heart to thudding. “W-Who’s there?”

“I have your hot water, sir.”

Zach took a deep breath and stood. A good long soak was just what he needed. After the buck-toothed lad had emptied both pails and left, Zach shed his clothes and slid into the warming comfort.

Resting his head against the tub’s curving end, Zach’s bent knees protruded above the water’s surface. Ugly purple knuckle marks already marred his white belly.

His gaze wandered to his saddlebags on the floor. Inside, only one clean shirt remained. He’d brought one other pair of pants, and they were already dirty, but not as filthy as the ones he’d just shed. Rolling around in the ally wasn’t something he planned. He’d have to do laundry before the tub was emptied. Since it wasn’t fitting to present in public in one’s long underwear, he’d have to wear the less soiled pants downstairs to get Odessa. He soaped himself and recognized the familiar lavender scent. Not a manly aroma but better than sweat and dirt.

His dilemma spun in his mind. How could he get Odessa on tomorrow’s stage? He’d have to be stern and insist. Besides, he barely had enough money to sustain one person, let alone two.

* * * *

Zach dunked his denims in and out of the tub. Streams of muddy liquid drizzled back into the water, turning it murky brown. Odessa perched on the bed and watched him. His mind spun, trying to formulate the right words to broach a sensitive subject, but before tackling that task, he wrung water from his pants and suspended them from the bedpost to dry. He fixed his gaze on Odessa and cleared his throat. “There’s a stage leaving at one tomorrow afternoon and I want you to be on it.”

Her lips dipped into a frown. “B-but, I thought you were going with me to Phoenix. Remember, I planned to get a job and work until you’ve finished your business here?” She cocked her head. “By the way, you never mentioned the type of business?”

His shoulders tensed. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t stay here. This place is far too dangerous. I’m sure you must have noticed there aren’t many places suitable for a young lady to work.”

“What about the mercantile? The least you can let me do is ask before you send me packing.”

Zach crossed his arms and broadened his stance. “I have to report to work tomorrow and I simply can’t spare the time to worry about you. You’re going and that’s that.”

She sprung to her feet. “You aren’t my boss.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not, but I am the person who’s supporting you at the moment. That’s another problem. I barely have enough to pay my own way. After I pay for your passage, I’ll be almost broke.”

“All the more reason for me to find a job.” She flashed a defiant look.

He locked gazes with her. “Odessa, you can help me the most if you just go to your aunt’s.”

“But—”

“No buts. First thing in the morning I’ll buy your ticket.” He turned toward the door. “I’m going to spend the night in the stable. Lock the door after me.”

She grabbed his arm. “I’ll not hear of it. There’s plenty of room right here.”

Surely she wasn’t proposing they share the bed. He had to ask. “And where will I sleep?”

“Once the tub is gone, I’ll make you a pallet on the floor. All we need is another blanket. We already have two pillows. It can’t be any less comfortable than the livery. Besides, sharing a room isn’t different from sleeping alongside each other under the stars.”

She had a point. Besides, he’d feel better not leaving her alone, especially after the remark made by his attacker. Zach nodded. “I’ll go down and have them come for the tub and ask for more covers while I’m there.” As he descended the worn staircase, he pondered how quickly she’d given up the fight to stay in Charleston.

* * * *

The bed’s metal frame squeaked when Odessa rolled over and snuggled down beneath the patchwork quilt. Despite worn curtains, moonlight filtered through the window and outlined the room’s meager furnishings. Faint music and laughter from the saloon drifted through the thin walls. She eyed the lump on the floor that was Zach. Even in the darkness, the steady rise and fall of his blanket with each breath provided the evidence she awaited. He finally slept.

Moving slowly to minimize the bed creaking, she edged to the side and lowered her feet to the floor. She stood, frozen in place, and stared at Zach, waiting for any reaction. A slight snore rumbled through the silence.

She tiptoed to the nail where her dress hung and slipped the newly-purchased frock over her head. Feeling around the area, she found her shoes and stockings. She slipped them on. Inching toward the door, she kept her gaze fixed on Zach’s sleeping form. How would she explain being up and dressed? Her heart thudded so loudly she heard it.

Odessa took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. A sliver of light from the hallway sliced the darkness. She held her breath and paused, but Zach’s continued snoring drained the tenseness from her shoulders. She crept out and eased the door closed behind her. At the top of the staircase, she splayed her fingers through her hair and smoothed her skirt. Like she told Zach, he wasn’t her boss. If she wanted to stay in Charleston, she needed to find a job. She didn’t have much time to ask around. Maybe not everyone went to bed early.

She stepped down the stairs. The husky man at the desk ogled her in a way that made her shiver. Squaring her shoulders, she chided herself for being such a baby. What could possibly happen here in the boarding house?

“I didn’t want to send him to hell on an empty stomach.” —Clay Allison after shooting Chunk Colbert at dinner.

Chapter Thirteen

Odessa approached the proprietor’s desk, widening her path to avoid the filthy man leaning there. Daring not to offend him, she returned his smile then looked away, but not before she noticed food stains on his clothing and weeks of stubble on his face. The area around him reeked of sweat. She held her breath to keep from gagging. The skunk that’d gotten into her father’s barn and sprayed hadn’t smelled much worse than this unwashed stranger. From the corner of her eye, she realized he watched her every move. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, but she feigned an ease she didn’t feel.

The skinny proprietor stood with his back to her. She moved to the far end of the counter. “Excuse me, sir.”

He turned. “Yes. May I help you?”

“I wonder if you can tell me of any employment opportunities here in town?”

“Who for?”

“Me.” She stretched a little taller.

His eyes widened. “What are ya lookin’ to do?”

“I don’t rightly know.” She shrugged. “I suppose I’m game to try most anything.”

“Anything?” A booming voice came from her right. The obnoxious odor grew stronger as the stranger stepped closer.

With an icy glance in his direction, she nodded. “Within reason, of course.”

“Can you shoot?” he asked.

“N-not really. But, I don’t desire a job that requires that skill.”

“Can you rope or ride?”

His assessing gaze sent a chill through her.

Squaring her shoulders, she returned his stare with a determined one of her own. “I was thinking more along the lines of a seamstress… or a teacher, or even serving food.”

Both men laughed.

Her cheeks warmed. “Did I make a joke?”

The gangly proprietor displayed a toothless grin. “Don’t mean to offend, Miss, but people drift through—not usually looking for work. Most jobs are already filled by the locals. Old lady Phister takes in sewing, and I doubt you’ll be able to find a job serving food. People who own eating establishments tend to reserve those spots for family members. Bout the only call for someone your age and good looks would be at the saloon.”

The smelly man chortled low in his throat and inched closer. His fat neck had dirt in the creases and his shirt barely stretched across his belly.

She shivered, and squared her shoulders. “I don’t think I’d be interested.”

He reached over and patted her hand. “I’d be your best customer.”

Odessa yanked away and stepped back from the counter. “Like I said, I’m not interested.” She spun on her heel and fled back upstairs.

On the top landing, she stopped and took a deep breath. How dare they suggest the saloon? Granny had always referred to the painted women who worked there as tarnished angels. Odessa really had no idea about what went on in such establishments, but she’d heard stories. The thought of cozying up to anyone who smelled like the man downstairs made her grimace. It appeared more and more likely she’d find herself on the stage for Phoenix rather than gainfully employed.

“Wait,” she muttered. Surely other things needed attention in a saloon. Her mind spun—washing glasses, doing laundry; she wasn’t above hard work. Besides, she intended to prove to Zach she could find a suitable job and take care of herself.

Instead of going back inside the room, she faded into the shadowed hallway and hoped for a distraction from the two men at the counter below. When they engaged in deep conversation, she crept downstairs and out the front door.

The night air cooled her cheeks. The uneven walkway unfolded before her, empty and, in some parts, engulfed in total darkness. Her heartbeat quickened as she eyed the saloon a few doors down. Fingers of light from the windows stretched across the rutted street. Piano music and rowdy laughter drifted through the swinging doors.

She swallowed hard and started walking. The clack of her boot heels on the worn planks quickened in the shadowed areas.

Outside the establishment, she paused and took a deep breath. Patting her hair into place, she squared her shoulders and entered. Silence fell like an axe. All eyes fixed on her. Her skin prickled beneath the stares. The mustached man behind the bar held a bottle mid-air over a glass, his bushy brow arched. Those hunched at the long counter glanced over their shoulders and displayed mixed expressions, most with mouths agape. The piano-player, the last to react, stopped stroking the black and white keys and spun on his stool. His eyes widened.

A painted woman, with more bosom showing than considered proper, stood with hands on her hips and glared at Odessa. She sashayed over, swinging her ample behind. The red hair, piled high on her head, matched the dots on her cheeks. “Did you lose your way, honey?”

“N-no. I-I…” The collective attention brought a huge lump to Odessa’s throat. She held her head high. “I’m looking for employment, but not…”

“Not what?” The woman tapped the toe of her fancy shoe. “Time is money around here, and you’re wasting mine.”

“I’m sorry…I mean, about wasting your time. But I really need a job and I thought the owner might hire me to do laundry, wash dishes, clean….”

The room erupted into laughter. The woman’s face softened. “Don’t pay them any mind. We have the Chinese to do those chores, but…” She leaned in. “I’m the proprietress, and we can always use your services in other ways.”

Heat seared Odessa’s cheeks. “Oh, n-no thank you.” She swallowed. “I guess I’ll be on my way.”

The owner’s plump hand with dirty fingernails grasped her arm. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be interested? A looker like you could make a lot of money. By the way, my name is Flo.” Her bright red lips curved into a smile.

“I’m Odessa Clay. Nice to meet you… and no disrespect intended, but I really couldn’t…couldn’t….”

“I understand. Just thought I’d make the offer. Sometimes desperation makes a body do something they normally wouldn’t. That’s how I ended up here.” Sadness clouded her eyes for an instant.

Odessa glanced around. The noise resumed. Most patrons had gone back to drinking, some cuddled with other painted ladies, but the piano player still looked on.

He stood on long, lanky legs and joined the two women. He swept a gaze up and down Odessa. “Couldn’t help but hear, missy. Do ya sing?”

“A little, I reckon. My granny always told me I had the voice of an angel.”

“Well, would ya be interested in being a songbird? That is if I can hear a little sample and agree with yer granny.”

She arched a brow. “What would I have to do?”

He crossed back to the piano and sat. “Stand here by me, look pretty, and sing whatever I play.”

His smile softened his features. Young, and fairly handsome beneath a shoddy exterior, he acted friendly enough. Instead of yelling over the noise, she walked closer. “But, I don’t know many songs, and the ones I do know wouldn’t be fittin’ for a place like this.”

“I know my music by heart.” He pointed to a stack of papers atop the piano. “You could take this sheet music and learn the words.”

“I-I just don’t know if I should.” She nibbled her bottom lip.

“What happened to the gol-darned music?” A voice yelled from across the room.

“Yeah, yeah, keep yer britches on. I’m conducting a little business over here.” The piano player shot Odessa a questioning look. “Well?”

“How much would I earn?”

“I’ll pay you two dollars a night.”

She widened her eyes. “That much?” There had to be a catch. “Are you sure all I have to do is sing?”

“Look, Miss....”

“Odessa Clay.” She bobbed a small curtsy.

“I’m Alf Rearden, pleased to meet you, and, all I need is someone who can sing. Not interested in anything else. Can you belt out a few verses of somethin’ you know?”

“Most of the songs I know are hymns.”

“Anything is fine. Just gimme a sample.” He fixed a steadfast gaze on her.

“All right, but I’m not singing loud.” She clasped her hands in front of her bosom, took a breath, and pretended it was Sunday and she sat next to Granny on the old wooden pew in church.

Rocks of ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee; let the water and the blood, from thy wounded side which flowed, be of sin—”

Alf held up his hand. “That’s enough. You do have a voice, Miss Clay. I’d be right proud if you’d accept the job.

Singing in church with everyone else was quite different than singing solo. She rubbed her dampened palms together. “I appreciate the offer, but I require some time to think about it.”

“Don’t take too long, or I might find someone else. In the meantime, take this sheet music with you and get an idea of what kind of tunes you’ll be singing. Now skedaddle. If I don’t start playing, I’ll be looking for a new job.”

He spun his stool back around and splayed his long fingers over the keys. As strains of Camp Town Ladies filled the room, couples danced around the floor, and a drunken man in the corner did a jig. Odessa mouthed the words she remembered and tapped her toe to the music. Maybe singing was the solution to her problem. She snatched the sheet music, waved goodbye, and pushed through the swinging doors.

Outside, she caught her reflection in the window and with her hand resting on her bosom, she struck a haughty post. “Odessa Clay, songbird. It doesn’t sound so bad.”

* * * *

Odessa crept upstairs and cracked the door open far enough to peek in. Seeing darkness and hearing Zach’s snores, she released a sigh. She tiptoed inside and nudged the door closed, then stood still while her vision adjusted to the muted light. Zach’s chest rose and fell in a constant rhythm.

After slipping the sheet music beneath the mattress, she stripped down to her undergarments, hung her dress on the bedpost and crawled between the covers. She stifled a giggle. Zach would be surprised when she gave him the news of her plans, but she’d have to wait and pretend she found the job during the daytime. Believing she’d put something over on him brought a feeling of satisfaction. A smug grin tugged at her lips.

Fatigue from the long day embraced her. She plumped her pillow and pulled the blanket up beneath her chin. Releasing a relaxing sigh, she closed her eyes.

“You’ve been gone quite a while. Gonna tell me where you’ve been?” Zach’s deep voice cut the silence, startling her.

“Ah…I thought you were asleep.”

“I’m sure you did.” He sat up, letting his blanket fall to his waist.

Distracted by moonlight from the window highlighting his bared chest and muscled arms, her alibi drifted right out of her mind.

“Listen, your job is to back me up, because you’d starve without me. And you, your job is to shut up.” —Butch Cassidy

Chapter Fourteen

Zach threw his covers aside and stood. His bare feet slapped the floor as he crossed the room and lit the lamp. He turned and fixed her with a questioning stare. “Are you gonna tell me where you’ve been or not?”

The sudden burst of light hurt her eyes. She squinted. “I-I couldn’t sleep so I went downstairs to read the newspaper.” The lie weighed heavy on her tongue.

He glared at her, his arms folded across his chest. “Strange, when I went down, I didn’t see you there.”

She lowered her chin and stared at her blanket to avoid his burning gaze. “I must have stepped out onto the walkway for a breath of air.”

“Didn’t see you out there, either. You’re not a very good liar.”

She sat straight up in bed and glared back at him. “Maybe I shouldn’t be explaining my whereabouts to you at all. Like I said before, you aren’t my pa.”

His throat wavered with a deep swallow, and he sat on the bed’s edge. “I don’t aim to treat you like a jailer, Odessa. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. This ain’t a place where young ladies can wander around at night and be safe. I’ll feel much better when you’re on the stage headed for Phoenix.”

“I’m sure you would feel better with me out of your hair,” she snapped.

His brows knitted into one. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He stared into his lap.

Odessa scrambled from under the blanket, and with legs folded beneath her, sat back on her heels. “You promised to go with me and help me find my Aunt Susan, but now you plan to toss me into a stagecoach and be done with me. Well, I’m not going. I have no idea where my aunt lives… or if she’s even still there.”

“I know I promised, but…” He jerked his head up. “What do you mean you’re not going?”

“For your information, I found a job. I can stay here and earn money until you finish whatever it is you’ve come here to do.”

“But…” His gaze rested on the expanse of bosom her chemise exposed.

The heat of his stare made her gasp. She’d totally forgotten she wore only her under garments. She clutched the covers to her chest and sank onto the bed, but she refused to lose the argument. “I have no idea what your plans are because you haven’t seen fit to share them, but you’ve made it very clear you can’t afford to support us both. Finding a job was much easier than I thought, and now you don’t have to worry about money.”

He sat taller. “Just what kind of work might you be doing?”

“Oh, there’s no might to it. I’m definitely accepting Mr. Rearden’s offer to let me sing.”

“Sing?” He raised a brow. “Where exactly will you be singing?”

“At the saloon down the street.”

Zach leapt to his feet and glared down at her. “Like hell!” He lowered his head and massaged the bridge of his nose. After a long breath, he looked back to her. “I forbid it. You have no idea the kind of riff raff you’ll be dealin’ with.”

“Forbid? You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

She no longer cared that she wore only pantaloons and a chemise. She bolted out of bed and stood toe-to-toe with him. “I’m fully grown and able to make my own decisions.” She waggled her finger in his face. “If you don’t abide by my choices, then you’re free to move along. I’m sure I can handle myself just fine without your help.”

His face reddened and his lips thinned. “Is that so?” He slapped her hand away. “Get that finger out of my face.”

Odessa lowered her hand and nibbled her bottom lip. Now she’d made him as mad as a wet hen.

Zach’s blood heated. Restraining himself, he took a moment to form his thoughts into words fit for a lady. He exhaled and relaxed his tense shoulders. “You certainly didn’t appear very capable of taking care of yourself when I found you crumpled in the dirt. And… how ‘bout when the scorpion bit you? If I recall correctly, you fell into a pretty good panic.”

He walked to the other side of the room, sat on a chair and began pulling on his socks. “I’m wondering how you would’ve handled those three riders had I not been there and claimed you were my wife. They had a mighty hungry gaze in their eyes, and it wasn’t for food.”

He paused, one sock dangling from his toes. Those varmints hadn’t looked at Odessa with desire much different than he felt right now. Her hair, disheveled around that beautiful face and spilling down past her shoulders, the creaminess of her skin, and the crest of full breasts heaving with each breath she took. God, he wanted her. The crotch of his pants grew uncomfortably tight.

He blew a silent blast of air past his lips and pulled his sock on, then his boots. He planted both feet on the ground, stood and crossed back to her. Gazing down into those beautiful blue eyes, he struggled to find his voice. “This isn’t about what you can and can’t do, Odessa. I’m fearful of what might happen to you. You’re no match for a man, and there are plenty in this town who’ll take advantage of you.” His heart pounded at her nearness.

“Advantage? How?”

Her naïve outlook made her prey to so many things. How could he possibly explain all the dangers to her? The fresh smell of her clean skin and hair drifted upward and teased him. Heat filtered across the inches between them. His blood pulsed in his ears, and his loins tightened.

She tipped her chin up and waited for his answer.

He swallowed. “In s-so many ways. Beautiful women do strange things to men.” He raised his head and stared at the wall behind her. If she only knew what she did to him this very minute. A voice in his head screamed for him to kiss her, but he knew he couldn’t stop there. He imagined drunken cowboys pawing at her and his anger resurfaced.

He grasped her shoulders. “You aren’t going to sing in a saloon, and that’s that. You have no idea what it would be like. Men and liquor don’t make a good mix. You’ll just have to take my word for it.” He loosened his grip and took a step back.

She plunked down on the bed and folded her hands in her lap. For a moment, he warmed with satisfaction that he’d won the argument.

Lifting her chin, she locked a defiant stare on him. “I don’t want to fight with you, but there is nothing else in this town for me to do but sing. I already have the sheet music and I’ll be starting tomorrow. I’m sure Mr. Rearden will keep me safe. He seems like a very nice man.”

Zach’s victory was short-lived. He ran both hands through his hair and sighed. “Dang, if you aren’t the hardest female to reason with.” He yanked his shirt from the chair back and stuffed his arms into the sleeves. “I’ll go have a talk with this Mr. Rearden and judge for myself if he’s as trustworthy as you seem to believe.” He stomped out, slamming the door so hard it rattled the window.

* * * *

Odessa sat for a moment and stared at the worn door, shocked at Zach’s reaction. She’d expected him to be pleased, not infuriated. His lack of faith in her was more than obvious. She’d have to show him she could handle herself.

She fished out the sheet music Alf Rearden had given her and studied the songs until her eyes grew heavy. When the words and notes blurred, she put the pages away and snuggled down in bed. It had been a long day, but she couldn’t wait until sunrise to accept Alf’s offer. From the dim orange highlights filtering through the tattered curtains, she didn’t have long to wait.

* * * *

“So, Mr. Rearden, you’re certain all I have to do is sing?” Odessa stood next to the piano, her hands shaking.

Reeking of spirits, Alf Rearden hunched on the piano stool and peered up at her through red eyes. Stubbly whiskers cast a dark hue to his cheeks and chin, and his hair matted on one side. He sighed. “One thing you’ll learn quite soon, Miz Clay, is that we don’t get up at the crack of dawn when we’ve played all night.”

She clasped her hands together and smiled. “I’m sorry to wake you so early, but I wanted to make sure I get the job. You indicated others might be interested.”

He scratched his chest, wiggling the curly hairs peeking over the neckline of his yellowed nightshirt. “The job is yours. Be here tonight around eight o’clock, and—”

“Tonight?” She widened her eyes.

He made a sweeping gesture of the empty room. “As you can see, there isn’t much going on during the day. Cowboys and miners generally work all day and come here to relax and have a little fun. From now on, get used to sleeping during the day and singing most of the night.”

“Oh.” She swallowed. “I never imagined this wouldn’t be a daytime position.”

He cocked his chin. “Little lady, have you ever been around a saloon before?”

“Oh, heavens no.” She shook her head. “My pa forbade me to go near one, although I always wondered what the inside looked like.”

She turned and studied the long counter, cluttered with empty glasses and bottles. Near the floor, a metal rail ran the bar’s length, hidden in places by brass spittoons in need of cleaning. A picture of a half naked woman hung on the far wall. Cheeks hot, Odessa yanked her attention back to her new employer. “Are there any other directions you wish to give me?”

“Just gussy yourself up and be here… and learn the words to those songs I gave you.”

How gussied did he mean? She only owned the dress she wore and one other. Maybe he noticed she’d forgotten to brush her hair. She splayed her fingers through the long strands, attempting to smooth them. “I-I was in a rush to get here this morning—”

Alf knuckled a half-lidded eye. “Jes fix yourself up nice. I know you ain’t one of the bar whores trying to earn a man’s wages for a roll in the hay, but...”

Odessa covered her gaping mouth.

“Sorry if I shocked you.” He yawned. “If you don’t have no more questions, I’d like to go back to bed.”

“One more thing.” She lowered her gaze and smoothed her skirt. “Do I need to be concerned about my safety?”

His pant legs peeked out from under his nightshirt when he stood and plodded over to the bar. Placing a sock-clad foot on the railing, he reached over and grabbed a glass from behind the counter, then emptied a whiskey bottle into it.

“You must be the reason for the visitor I had right before I went to bed.” He tipped his glass up and swallowed. “Some sandy-haired fella, tall and sort of lanky. He didn’t mention your name, but intimated he’d hold me responsible if anything happened to my new singer. I was half asleep and near drunk so I didn’t make much of it.”

Heat crept up her neck. “Oh, that’s my friend, Zach. Don’t pay mind to him. Just because I rode into town with him, he seems to think he has claim to me. I assured him you’ll keep me perfectly safe.”

“Safe… yeah, sure.” He emptied his glass and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Nothing to fear, missy. I’ll make certain no one bothers you. Now if you don’t mind, I need my sleep.”

A noise drew her attention and she glanced over her shoulder. A Chinese man in a straw hat swept the floor, while another with slanted eyes cleared the bar. Both kept their heads down and remained silent.

Odessa swiveled her gaze back to Alf. “Thank you for the opportunity to work for you, Mr. Rearden. I’ll be here promptly at eight.”

She shuffled through the swinging doors, not feeling at all assured that Alf Rearden would be her protector. Something about him was different from their first meeting. Obviously, drinking did change a man, like Granny had once told her. Still, what could happen in a barroom filled with people? Was she worrying because Zach made such an issue of her working in a saloon?

“I’ll be fine,” she muttered. She lifted her chin and smoothed her skirt. Zach was wrong and she’d prove it.

She headed for the boarding house. As she prepared to step over a gaping board in the sidewalk, a body lunged from the alley between buildings and blocked her way. “Good mornin’, little lady.” He doffed his sweat-stained hat.

His body odor assailed her nostrils. She stepped back, surveying the stranger. Her heart thundered beneath her skin. Dirt and dust covered his clothing, gnarls matted his beard and scraggly long hair. Tobacco discolored his teeth, mainly the front two that resembled those she’d seen in a horse’s mouth.

With a nod, she tried to step around him, but he shuffled into her path. “I said, good mornin’.” His beady eyes held a menacing look. His hands looked as though he hadn’t washed them in weeks.

She glanced over her shoulder, hoping, no, praying, for someone to help. The nearest person was at the far end of the street. With her eyes downcast, she tried again to bypass the man in front of her. He side-stepped to block her again.

“How’s ‘bout a little kith.” His words slurred and his fingers bit into her skin as he grasped her shoulders and pulled her closer.

His fetid breath washed over her. She wrinkled her nose and turned her face. “Please, sir, let me go.”

“Not right yet. Just one kith for good ol’ Vern and…”

“Please, I beg you. Don’t do this.” She planted both palms against his chest and pushed.

His arms drifted down her shoulders and encircled her waist. Odessa craned backwards, but she was no match for his strength. Fear jumbled her mind and froze a scream in her throat.

No matter how much she wiggled and twisted, he maintained a tight grasp. His lips loomed closer to the side of her face.

“C’mon, girlie, give uth a kith.”

Slobbery lips brushed her cheek, inching toward her mouth despite her arching away. Odessa clawed at his whiskered face.

“You’re the sickest looking lot of sheriffs I ever seen.” —Tom Horn’s comments as he mounted the gallows.

Chapter Fifteen

“Yeow.” The drunk slapped Odessa’s hands away from his face, then captured her wrists. He jackknifed her arms behind her back, his puckered mouth still intent on stealing a kiss.

Helpless as a baby bird fallen out of its nest, she grimaced with pain. How dare this drunken sot manhandle her! Anger thawed her scream, but her captor released her so abruptly, she tottered sideways into the building and sagged against the wooden storefront. Her mouth gaped.

Zach stood in front of her. The veins in his neck bulged and his face burned redder than a glowing ember. “You son-of-a-bitch,” he yelled as he pummeled the drunk. “If you ever touch her again, I’ll—”

She’d seen Zach upset before, but never this angry. What if he kept beating the man and… “Zach, stop!” She lunged forward and grabbed his upper arm, clinging like a cocklebur.

He paused, arm drawn back, fist clenched. His other hand gripped the disoriented man’s collar. Blood poured from the stranger’s nose and mouth. One side of his face had already started to swell.

“Please don’t hit him again.” She searched Zach’s blue eyes for compassion. “You’re gonna kill him.”

He blinked, stared down at the limp form, then released his grasp. The man sprawled onto the wooden walkway like a rag doll. People gawped from the other side of the street, but no one interfered.

“Are you all right?” Zach’s gaze roamed her from head to toes. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head. “I’m not certain he would’ve. He’s just drunk.” Odessa crossed her arms and massaged where the man’s grip still burned.

“Are you kidding?” Zach spat at the man on the ground then turned an icy stare to her. “This is an example of the men you’ll be around if you take that job at the saloon. Are you still so sure you can take care of yourself?”

Odessa lowered her arms, and standing to her full height, gathered her skirt in her fists and squeezed. She met his cocky gaze. “Your continued insistence that I can’t take care of myself is insulting. I appreciate that you came to my rescue again, but I highly doubt anyone will foist themselves on me in front of a room full of people.” She did a quick side-step. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some songs to learn.”

She relaxed her stiff fingers and kept her head high as she walked to the boarding house. Zach swore as she walked away, but she didn’t give him the pleasure of glancing back.

* * * *

Zach tensed his jaw to stop the string of obscenities begging to be spewed. Damn, she was the most stubborn woman he’d ever met. He rubbed the back of his neck. Sleeping upright on the boarding house sofa after their argument had left him with a crick he couldn’t shed.

His gaze followed her brisk strides down the walkway before he dipped his chin and massaged his temples. How did one fight such sassiness? Maybe it was time to wash his hands of her. Let her see what lay in store for a young, single woman. Besides, at the moment, he had more important matters pending.

Despite a shudder at the thought of abandoning her, he dug into his pocket and retrieved the note left for him at the boarding house desk. He unfolded the wrinkled paper and eyed the scrawling penmanship:

Meet me at the livery as soon as you can. I trust you don’t want a repeat of my previous welcome.

The mere hint of the thrashing in the alley made his stomach hurt. He waited until Odessa bustled into the boarding house, then stepped over the unconscious fellow on the sidewalk and headed toward the whitewashed barn at the end of the street. How much longer before the clerk demanded payment for another night’s accommodation? If Zach had his way, he wouldn’t have to shell out anything other than the cost for her stage ride home.

His mind settled and he focused on the building ahead. Both stable doors had been pushed closed, though one was slightly ajar. The overwhelming stench of manure drifted through the crack, and he wondered why the building had been secured rather than open for airing. Shouldn’t someone be mucking the stalls? He peeked inside the dim interior, and unable to see anything or anyone, made a spanning glance of the outside area. No one stirred. The hairs on his neck rose.

The note had requested his presence at the livery, but where? He wasn’t even sure who he was supposed to meet. Hopefully not the ruffian who pummeled him.

“Johnson?” A voice from inside summoned.

Zach stepped from the bright sunshine into the near dark. His hand hovered over his holster. “Yeah, I’m here. Where are you?” He blinked several times.

An imposing figure stepped from the shadows. “Relax, no need to look so edgy. It’s about time you showed up.”

The man stood a good head taller and appeared broad shouldered. As Zach’s vision adjusted, a full scruffy beard became apparent, but the fellow’s eyes remained hidden beneath the low brim of his hat.

“Sorry.” Zach willed the tension from his shoulders and clasped his fingers together, cracking his knuckles. “I ran into an unforeseen problem that I can’t seem to shake.”

The man’s loud guffaw drifted across the stalls, frightened the animals and set off a symphony of whinnies and snorts. “So I heard. The offer you received earlier still stands. We’ll be glad to take her off your hands. She’s a looker, that one. By the way, name’s Pete.” He crossed his arms over his broad belly and stood with a wide stance.

Zach fisted his hands at his sides. Did the man actually think he’d turn Odessa over to them? His jaw tensed. “No need. She’s leaving on the Phoenix stage tomorrow.” He’d hogtie and gag her if he had to in order to save her from her own determination.

A shift in the sun splattered the stable interior with light. Pete scratched at his beard and displayed a devious grin. “Tomorrow, that so? Just happens to be the coach carrying the miners’ wages. Guess we’ll get more than the cash we intended.”

Dread sank like a horseshoe in the pit of Zach’s stomach. Words failed him. He had every intention of forcing Odessa to board the stage, but now he’d have to rethink his plans. He’d cursed her pigheadedness and now that stubborn streak seemed a blessing.

Still, Zach intended to follow through on his previous agreement and get the money he needed. The fate of his pa’s ranch depended on him, and he wasn’t about to let his father down. He’d deal with Odessa in due time, but now he needed information. He narrowed his gaze on the bearded man. “So, what’s the plan?”

“The stage is scheduled to leave around three, but it sometimes runs late. Meet me and the rest of the boys here around one-thirty and we’ll ride out and find a good place to make the heist.”

“The rest of the boys?”

“Yeah, T.J. and Burt. You already met Axel.”

Zach’s hand rested on his midsection. “I recall our meeting all too well.” Either T.J. or Burt had to be the man he’d met during the card game in Phoenix. They’d never exchanged names.

“Well, be here on time, and don’t forget, I call the shots.”

“Yes sir.” Zach nodded. The fact that a busy livery had come to a dead standstill during the day showed that the man had clout… or else instilled fear in anyone who knew him. Zach wasn’t about to be the one to ruffle his feathers and find out.

* * * *

A piece of sheet music in her hand, Odessa sat on the bed and stared at the words to “The Last Rose of Summer.” She cleared her throat and crooned:

’Tis the last rose of summer

Left blooming alone,

All her lovely companions

Are faded and gone!

No flower of her kindred,

No rosebud is nigh

To reflect back her blushes,

Or give sigh for sigh.

She had no knowledge of the tune or the music, but how hard could following a piano be? She saw no problem using the sheets as reminders until she became familiar with the words. Surely, Mr. Rearden didn’t expect her to remember them all at once. A few of the songs, she recognized, but most she didn’t. Some had lyrics that bordered on naughty, and that niggled at her. Granny wouldn’t much like this whole idea, but… Odessa’s stomach knotted at the thought of singing in front of strangers. Still–she had no other choice unless she wanted to swallow her foolish pride and rely on Zach again.

Her knuckles whitened as she crinkled the sheet music. Aware of her actions, she placed the page on the mattress and smoothed the paper. Destroying her employer’s property wouldn’t make a very good first impression.

She stomped her foot on the floor. “Dang you, Zach Johnson. Why couldn’t you just take me to my aunt’s house?”

As if on cue, he clomped into the room and slammed the door. His gaze drifted to the sheet music spread on the bed and his mouth tightened.

Odessa squared her shoulders. “Yes, I still intend to sing tonight.”

He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Where do you plan to sleep?”

“What do you mean?” She sat up straighter.

“Remember, I only had money enough to pay for one night here. Our time is up.”

The blood drained from her face. “W-well, I…”

He enjoyed seeing her speechless for once.

She stood. “I guess I should gather my few things, then and—”

“No need.” Being just plain mean wasn’t his nature. He unclasped his arms and smiled. “Since you’re so adamant about staying here, I used the money intended for your fare to pay for two more nights.”

“Then what?” She raised a brow and sagged back onto the bed.

What could he say to convince her she didn’t need that blasted saloon job? How would he account for showing up with enough money to leave town? Any true explanation meant he’d have to reveal his dishonest plan, and he’d rather shoot himself in the foot than face the look of disappointment in her eyes. She’d been through enough.

“What about the job you came here to do?” Before he answered her first question, she launched another at him.

He dipped his chin and took a breath. “I’m supposed to… to start tomorrow.” He wasn’t actually lying, just stretching the truth a bit. Still, the words left a bad taste in his mouth. He raised his gaze to her. “Maybe I can get an advance on my salary.”

He crossed to the bed, sat beside her and took her hand. “Won’t you please reconsider taking this singing job? I still have enough money for a few meals, and…”

She pulled away and stood. The warmth of her flesh still lingered on his palm. He stifled a grin at the childlike way she plodded across the room in her bare feet and settled in the rocking chair. He hadn’t noticed she’d shed her shoes and stockings. His gaze locked on her dainty toes and trim ankles. His heartbeat stuttered.

“What if you can’t get an advance?” she asked. “I understand that besides the money Mr. Rearden will pay me, sometimes customers also show their appreciation with cash. If we both work, we can earn twice as much.”

Frustration built in Zach’s chest like clouds gathering for a thunderstorm. He clenched his teeth. Clearly, she hadn’t listened to a single warning word he’d said. Unless he was ready to admit to becoming an outlaw, he had no choice but to let her find out on her own what type of men frequented saloons. Or maybe another talk with Alf Rearden was in order. Zach flashed his palms in surrender. “I guess we’ll just take it a day at a time.”

She smiled. “Good idea. And I’ll feel much better if I can pay my own way.” She rose, went to the bed and gathered her sheet music. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to memorize my verses.”

She’d provided him the perfect opportunity to visit the saloon. “Sure thing.” He stood and doffed his hat. “I’ll go check on the horses and arrange for their care for a few more days.”

Zach left the room, hurried down the stairs and out the boarding house door. His boots thudded against the walkway as he quickened his pace to the saloon. Reaching the two-story, weathered building, he ignored the bawdy invitations made by two scantily-clad women hanging over the balcony above him and pushed through the swinging doors.

Alf Rearden sat at the piano, his unfastened suspenders dragging the floor. His hair was uncombed and the shirt tucked into his breeches looked like it had been slept in—several times.

“Rearden!” Zach’s voice echoed in the almost empty room. The lone cowpoke at the bar flashed a quick glance at him but turned his attention back to his drink.

“What?” Alf swiveled his stool around and peered up with bleary eyes. His shoulders sagged. “Oh, it’s you again. What is it this time?”

“I came to make a deal with you.”

“What kind of deal?” The piano man’s brow arched.

“Miz Clay has decided against my better judgment to become your songbird. You make sure nothing happens to upset or harm her, and I’ll make sure you continue to breathe.” Zach slapped his holster for emphasis.

Alf Rearden’s lips turned into a thin line. His gaze moved from Zach’s holster to his face, and with eyes wider than silver dollars, the man nodded.

“Good, we understand one another.” He patted Rearden’s shoulder and smiled. “And treat her like the lady she is.” Zach turned on his heel and strode back through the slatted swinging doors.

“Hey cowboy,” a voice from the balcony called down. “Sure you don’t wanna come up and have a good time?”

Zach tipped his hat. “Thank you for the offer, ma’am, but not this time.”

A whoosh of air escaped his parted lips. Not this time—not any time. The woman who loomed overhead didn’t compare with Odessa in the least, and no matter how randy he became, being a notch on a whore’s bedpost didn’t interest him—if they even kept tally. Of course, getting married hadn’t been on his list of things to do either, but since meeting Odessa, the thought of settling down crossed his mind quite often. Would she want to cozy up with him once she discovered he’d robbed a stage? What if he wasn’t able to keep his identity concealed?

He made his way back to the boarding house at a slow pace and deep in thought. He was about take part in something that might make him a wanted man. Did he have to right to ask anyone to share his life?

“Have you any idea of what a man must endure who leads such a life? No, you cannot. No one can unless he lives it for himself.” —Frank James

Chapter Sixteen

Odessa tossed her napkin on her dinner plate, pushed back from the table in the boarding house dining room, and stood. “I have to go upstairs and get my sheet music. I need to get to the Silver Queen early for any last minute instructions from Mr. Rearden.”

Zach peered up at her and shrugged. “So?” The tenseness in his shoulders belied his non-caring attitude, but he’d begged her for the last time not to take the damn singing job.

She gazed down at him and clasped her hands beneath her chin. “Please don’t come watch me tonight. I’d be twice as nervous if you were there.”

“Don’t worry. I have other plans.” Keeping his tone nonchalant, he scraped the last trace of gravy from his plate and shoved the beef-flavored spoon into his mouth.

“Good, then I’ll meet you back in the room afterwards and tell you how everything went.” Her hand on his shoulder sent a shockwave down his arm.

She walked away, taking the warmth from the room with her. Zach had no other plans, but she didn’t want him there. Fine, he wouldn’t go. He refused to show her the hurt he felt and tamped down the urge to jump up, throw her over his shoulder and cart her out of town and far away from the dangers he feared lurked in the saloon. She’d made her choice and he’d honor it if it killed him. He’d have to find some other way to pass the worrisome hours before he met up with Spence and his boys. He doubted sleep would be an easy feat with his nerves jangling like a one-legged man in a foot race.

* * * *

Odessa paused inside the saloon and scanned the room for her new boss. She spied him at the bar, one boot propped on the foot rail and the other flat on the floor. His dark hair looked as though he’d slicked it back with lard. A half-empty whiskey bottle sat in front of him, and he tipped his head back and emptied the contents of a small glass.

“I’m here, Mr. Rearden,” she called out.

He turned and nodded. “Good, go ahead and get changed and we’ll run through a few songs before the nightly crowd gets here.”

She glanced down at her dress then back up at him. “Ch-change? What’s wrong with what I have on?”

He slammed his glass on the bar, turned and rested his elbows on the long counter. She shivered beneath his assessing gaze.

“Nothing if you’re teachin’ Sunday school. This is a saloon. Men wanna see a little skin.”

Flo came floating down the stairs in a mass of red ruffles. Her ample bosom bulged against the confines of her corseted top, and her hem rested well above her chubby calves. Alf Rearden exhaled a loud breath—one that sounded more like relief than pleasure at the sight. “Hey, Flo,” he summoned. “Can you come here a minute? I need some help.”

Flo waddled over, taking time to stop and bat her eyelashes at the trio of cowboys drinking at the bar.

Alf rolled his eyes. “You can work the room later, Flo, I need your help now.” He crossed to the piano and sat.

“All right, all right.” She came and plopped at a nearby table. “Whadda you want?”

“You remember Odessa, don’t you?” He nodded in her direction. She stood with clammy palms clasped at her waist.

“Oh, of course.” The redhead smiled. “Nice to see you again.”

Odessa nodded. “And you.”

“Yeah, yeah…we’re all happy to see each other,” Alf snapped. “Flo, you got anything more suitable for this young lady to wear? I guess I didn’t make myself clear when we discussed the wardrobe needed for the job.”

Flo looked her up and down. “I think I can find something. Pearlie left behind a bunch of dresses and things when she quit, and I think she was about the same size.”

“B-but…”

“Follow me, hun.” Flo rose and sashayed toward the staircase.

Head down, Odessa followed, counting each step like someone climbing to the gallows.

At the top of the stairs, Flo opened the closest door. “C’mon in. Don’t be shy.” She stood aside and made a sweeping gesture.

Odessa inched inside and made a cursory glance at the room’s frilly curtains and four-poster bed with a floral cover and far more pillows than a single person needed. The smell of lilacs hung heavy in the air, but a hint of sweat and mustiness tainted the sweetness.

“I-s this your room?”

“No. It was Pearlie’s until she up and left. Fell in love with some tow-headed trail hand who drifted in and out from time to time and thought he could offer her a better life.” She sighed then trailed a finger across the dusty dresser top. “My sweet friend’s been gone quite a while now.”

Flo crossed to the armoire and opened the doors, displaying a garish array of garments. “You know,” she said, glancing over her shoulder, “I had this room in mind when I offered—”

Odessa pressed her palm toward Flo. “Thanks, but, like I said, I just couldn’t… do…” She took a breath. “I’m simply not interested, but I do appreciate your kindness.”

Flo chuckled. “I understand. This job isn’t for everyone.” She turned her attention back to the armoire. “Let’s see if we can find something in here for ya.”

* * * *

Flo had been summoned downstairs, but before she went, she’d laid out an assortment of dresses on the bed. Odessa stared at them and shook her head. They all looked the same, but in different colors—had far too little material in some places, and not nearly enough in others. Showing so much skin was simply scandalous.

The door creaked open and Flo poked her head inside. She flashed a raised brow. “You haven’t picked one yet? Alf says to hurry up and get downstairs.”

Odessa slid off the bed and stood. Wringing her hands, she stared at the garments. “I-I can’t decide. Why can’t I just wear what I have on?”

Flo came inside and closed the door behind her. “If you were going on a hayride or working at the mercantile, you’d look just fine, but the customers here expect you to look a little flashier.” She snagged the yellow dress and held it up against Odessa. “How bout this one?”