Yet she couldn’t help but wish he thought of her as something more than a prisoner.
Mary told herself once again to let go of such silly ideas. She had a job to do, and that job was escaping and getting clear of Indian Territory and staying away from Forth Smith and anywhere that someone might recognize her!
Not knowing what else to say, she told him, “There’s no one else. I’m all by myself. And I don’t have a horse.” She held up her arms. “What you see is all there is.”
For the briefest of moments, an expression flashed across his face that suggested he liked what he saw. That might just be wishful thinking, she realized. Anyway, if the look had been there, it disappeared as quickly as it had come on.
“Lucky for you I have a pack horse you can ride,” he said. “Come on. Let’s put some distance between us and those fellers in the stage station.”
“You think they’ll come after us?” The alarm in her voice wasn’t for show. She was terrified at the thought of falling into the bounty hunters’ clutches.
“Could,” John replied. “They’re hard men. The type who don’t like being made fools of, and I reckon that’s what I did to them.” He wore a cocky grin for just a moment, hinting at a little of his real personality behind that stoic, lawman persona. “And there’s a pretty girl involved.”
She loved that he thought of her as pretty, but she tried not to show it.
“Men will often make fools of themselves when a pretty girl is involved,” he continued with a shake of his head.
I know, she thought silently.
That’s what I’m counting on.
Chapter Four
John was glad when they’d put some miles between them and Butch Morehead and his two cronies.
Butch hadn’t ever murdered anyone. Not that he’d been charged with, at least. Though it wouldn’t surprise John if there was a body or two in the man’s past. He was a no-account who made his living through petty crimes. Maybe he wasn’t the killing sort. But John didn’t want to find out firsthand. He could handle Butch and his friends, sure, but he’d rather not have anyone taking shots at him.
Or at Mary Rose Dunn.
He tried not to smile as he silently repeated her name. She’d been nicknamed the Choctaw Rose, and the stories about her infamous exploits had grown over the past year. They were told and embellished over campfires and on lonely trails where cowboys were desperate to pass the time. Most of it was pure fiction more akin to those dime novels people read than actual truth. In fact, John had come across a dime novel about Mary! Though he doubted anything in it was accurate, besides her name, the fact that she was part Choctaw, and the description of her being beautiful.
None of that mattered, he reminded himself. Especially that part about her being beautiful. It wasn’t any of his concern. He had a job to do and he was going to bring her in for trial just like his orders stated.
Though he couldn’t deny she was damn near the prettiest woman he’d ever seen.
No, revise that, he thought as they continued to ride along. Sheisthe prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. Nodamn nearabout it.
“Uh, sir,” she said, snapping him from his thoughts.
“Yeah?”
She was riding ahead of him, though he had a rope attached to her saddle in case she got the fool notion of trying to get away. Just a tug on that would slow her mount way down.
He’d thought of tying her hands, too, but the idea of doing that to a lady just didn’t set right with him. So, he’d devised that little plan with the rope. She might try to flee, sure, but she wouldn’t get very far.
“I have to, uh…you know.”
“You have to what?” he asked.
The realization dawned on him before she could answer, so he said, “Oh. Right.” After a sigh, he looked around and said, “Up ahead. About fifty yards. There’s a clearing we can stop in.”
She threw a startled glance over her shoulder. “A clearing is exactly whereI don’twant to do that!”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m saying we’ll rest the horses there and you can find a tree to take care of your necessaries behind. Don’t worry. I’m a gentleman.”
“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that,” she said with a bit of sharpness in her tone. “That’s more than can be said about some men out here on the frontier.”
He nodded, though she couldn’t see it. “I can’t argue with that, ma’am.”