The stage hit a hole in the trail and jolted from one side to the other. The occupants clutched at the leather handholds to keep from being tossed from their seats. Sure didn’t look comfortable to Nate. He’d sooner ride a horse any day.
He’d taught Louise to ride. Not that she’d never been on horseback before she moved to Rocky Creek, but she’d never ridden astride at full gallop across a field.
Ma had heard of it and scolded Nate royally. “She’s a young lady. Have some regard for her safety and reputation.”
It was a warning he meant to heed but Louise had ideas of her own and had continued to follow him and Gordie around, insisting she could do anything they did. Mostly she could.
No longer. She could barely waddle. Wouldn’t she pitch a fit if he pointed it out to her?
At least he was doing what he could to protect her reputation with this pretend marriage, and at the same time keep her safe from Vic.
He glanced around, studying every bush and boulder, looking for someone lurking after them. He saw no one. Had Vic given up on his quest to have Louise and Missy? And the baby? Nate’s jaw protested at how hard he clamped down on his teeth. Imagine selling a baby! The mere thought made his insides twist. Best for Vic if he stayed away.
But would Vic give up so easily? One part of Nate thought Vic would move on to easier prey, especially after Nate had tossed him into the street. But another part thought Vic didn’t like to admit defeat.
Nate rode around a rut dug in the trail by wagon wheels during a rain. The stage wasn’t able to miss it and lurched from side to side again.
Nate fell back and to the side. From his position, he could see Louise without her noticing unless she looked over her shoulder.
Her face was pinched and pale, her eyes closed, her mouth a thin line.
The ride had to be most uncomfortable in her condition. Maybe she was regretting this decision.
He kept his position as they continued, watching with growing concern. He might have lost his right to ask God for favors by vowing falsely, but somehow he knew that wasn’t true. How many talks had Bertie given back at the ranch as they gathered in the cookhouse for Sunday services? He’d said God never gave up on people. God, don’t give up on me. I know what I did was wrong, marrying with no intention of staying married. But I did it for Missy, Louise and her baby. I’m still concerned about them. Please help me get them safely to the ranch.
They came to the first way station to change horses.
The driver called, “Folks, time for a quick break, but be late getting aboard and be left behind.”
The threat of being left behind in this desolate place would make all of them hurry. There was only a crude barn, a set of corrals for the horses and a dugout home for the bewhiskered man who sauntered over to help with the animals.
Nate dismounted, led his horse to water, then made haste to help the ladies down.
Missy hurried to the well to drink her fill of water.
Nate pulled Louise’s hand around his elbow to rest on his arm. When she leaned heavily on him, he dipped his head to study her face. Was she gritting her teeth? “Are you okay?”
She nodded, then worked her jaw loose. “I need a drink and to stretch my legs.”
He filled a dipper and she gulped back three swallows, then stopped and handed the dipper back with a word of thanks. He again pulled her hand around his arm as they walked along the dusty path.
She stopped at the corner of the corrals and leaned on a post.
“You sure you’re okay? It’s not too late to change your mind.”
She turned on him, pierced him with a sharp look. “Are you suggesting I go back? And do what? Fight Vic? Do you really think I’d stand a chance against someone so despicable and sneaky?”
“I was only thinking of you. We’ve just been gone a few hours and you already look exhausted.”
She drew herself upright, no longer leaning on the post. All hint of tiredness had been erased from her demeanor. “I am only thinking of my baby.”
Their gazes held, hers full of fury and determination, his, he supposed, full of resignation. “Put that way, I guess you have no choice but to cowboy up.”
“Cowboy up?”
“Means you do what is hard instead of moaning about it.”