Page 4 of That Fateful Ride

Chapter2

Rebecca ate in the saddle, constantly scanning around for trouble. Fear clenched at her, as did the desire for sleep. Sure, she knew it was dangerous being a rider, but she’d not expected so much exposure to that harsh reality so much her first day.

Thankfully, Polaris seemed perfectly fine. So she ate, rode, and thought about the station manager. Cyrus Spencer. She remembered Robert telling her they had a new one, she’d just neglected to recall it what with being so concerned about hiding her identity. Nothing her brother had said however had prepared her for actually seeing him for the first time.

Her jaw almost hit the ground when she saw him. Rugged. Handsome. And for some reason apparently capable of making her forget all reason.

He had dark hazel eyes with masculine and chiseled features. He was a large man, all over his barrel-chest impressive, towering over her by at least a foot. She didn’t see a lick of fat on him. Everything she saw was muscular. Brown hair with streaks of sun lightening blond hung to his shoulders. Not a full beard but scruff covered his face.

His golden tan muscular physique was one view, which drew her eyes more than once. Broad shoulders and powerful arms strained at the seam of his long sleeve shirt, which sat tucked into denim trousers. She’d not seen many of them, heard of them but they were rare to see, a lot more expensive than her family could afford. Lean hips and long legs of corded muscle. His nose appeared to have been broken a time or two and a sensual mouth. The lower lip plumper than the top but it didn’t matter.

Never in all her nineteen years had she experienced such a strong desire to touch a man. She wondered what it would be like in his embrace. Her body had felt weird and hypersensitive just from his voice. Then when he looked at her…everything escalated.

Despite being deeply lost in her musings, she caught the flick of Polaris’ ears. Slowing him, she stared in the indicated direction. She searched the sky and frowned at the familiar outlines of scavenger birds. Worrying her lower lip, she hesitated. The delivery was already late. But she couldn’t in good conscious ignore the fact a man could be lying near possibly close to death.

“Come on, boy.” She withdrew the rifle from the scabbard and laid it across her lap as Polaris deviated off their predetermined trail.

They moved cautiously and then she saw him. A badly mangled body with blood streaming from his wounds. One final look around to ensure she was truly alone then she dismounted to land near him. She’d never been squeamish but this image turned her stomach. The sight of his chest moving—no matter how shallow—spurred her into action.

“Bill,” she said crouching by him and touching shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here.”

The sole remaining eye opened. “Wh…wh…”

“Quiet,” she ordered with calm authority. She whistled bringing Polaris and she took some water before sinking back beside him. “Can you move?”

“Yes.” Slowly he sat. She gave him the water and checked his injuries before patching him the best she could with what she had.

“Let’s go.”

“Why you?”

Carefully they stood. Bill weak from blood loss and being unprotected from the blazing sun. The man used Polaris to assist in steadying him while she tore a cloth to wrap around his head and empty eye socket.

“When your horse returned, I took the delivery.”

“But you don’t like me.”

She stored her stuff and answered honestly. “You have more of a problem with me than I do you. Did you want me to leave you here?”

“No. No.”

In silence, she helped him up onto her horse. She walked around to give herself a bit of extra time. With him sitting so close would he notice she wasn’t who she claimed to be? Didn’t matter, she still couldn’t—and wouldn’t—leave him.

Please.She sent up the one word plea to the good Lord as she mounted. Behind her, Bill sat stiffly.

“Hold on and let me know if you need me to stop.” The moment she felt him grab back for the cantle, she got Polaris back on his way. Once he settled into his gait, she breathed a bit easier. Thankfully, even with the two of them, they didn’t weigh a whole heck of a lot. They didn’t talk and when they stopped, she made sure there was some coverage to hide behind while she relieved herself.

Darkness loomed when she rode into the station.

“I need a doctor!” she cried.

Lights came on and the door opened. The man standing there with a lantern in his hand was a behemoth. Sandy hair stuck out in spikes around his head. His other hand gripped a shotgun.

“What goes on?”

“I’ve got a wounded man and the dispatch.”

He hurried down to stare at her. Then his gaze drifted from her to the trembling man behind her.

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