Page 3 of Mail-Order Bride Runaway
Keeping a safe distance from the blade in her hands while, at the same time, watching for an opportunity to snatch the weapon from her, he stepped aside to let her plant her feet on the ground.
She clutched the axe to her chest as she straightened. The bones of her knuckles were white pebbles. Her gaze stayed with him although she didn’t look into his face.
He’d wait until she calmed before he pressed her for more information or tried to disarm her. Fear made a person do rash things.
She eased toward the river, never shifting her attention from him. Guarded and cautious and scared so bad she shook, though to her credit, she wasn’t allowing her fears to cripple her.
He followed her at a distance as she squatted by the stream, keeping one hand on the thick handle and cupping water to her mouth with the other. From how greedily she slurped he guessed she’d been under that tarp in the heat for some time. The only place he’d stopped since leaving the Gundersons was at Gunders Corner Store. That must have been when she stowed in his wagon.
He’d hoped to deliver the trunk and make his way back home in good time, but now he had no choice but to turn around and take her back to town.
She rose, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and took her time coming round to face him, resting the axe on the ground beside her while still holding on to the handle. Her gaze swept over him; as if measuring him. Well, she’d not find him lacking in any way and he drew himself up tall and stared back, taking stock of the woman before him. Her dark blue dress was rumpled, dirt smudged her cheeks. Blonde hair hung down her back though a strand or two remained caught up in pins on one side of her head. What captured his attention were her eyes. A vivid blue with a navy rim. He swallowed noisily, unable to tear his attention from their startling brightness then reality kicked in and he focused on the situation.
“Who are you?” he asked.
Her gaze burned with challenge before she answered. “My name is Della Epps. I’m from Toledo.”
“Ohio?” The city was days away even with train connections to Montana. Gunders Corner was not on the rail line. Had she come in on the stagecoach or stolen a ride in another wagon?
She nodded. “That’s right.”
“You’re a fair distance from home. What are you doing out here?”
“It’s a long story.” She looked past him to study the back trail.
“Are you expecting someone?” Someone who would claim her and take her back to town? Save him the trip?
She shuddered. “I hope not.”
“That’s not a very reassuring answer. How be you tell me what’s going on?”
Her hair fell around her face as she looked down. Then, eyes blazing, she looked at him. “Things didn’t turn out the way I hoped.”
His stomach growled. If she meant to stand there clutching the axe and avoiding answering his questions, he might as well make his supper. He lay the wood in place and started a fire. She moved closer and watched him.
“I’m guessing you have an explanation.” He waited then prodded. “Maybe you could tell me what happened.” He pulled the grub box toward him. Mrs. Gunderson had made sure he had food for the journey, and he’d added to his supplies while in Gunders Corner.
The stowaway hovered several strides away as he put water to boil for tea and opened two cans of beans.
Her breath huffed out. “If you must know, I came to meet a Mr. Hartman. My mother, who is a widow, has been corresponding with him with a view to marriage.” She rubbed her hand along her arm as if she were cold.
“You’re welcome to stand closer to the fire.”
Nodding, she moved forward three steps but didn’t hold her hands to the heat. Instead, she kept one firmly on the axe handle and with the other, continued to rub her limb.
“He wanted Ma to come out and marry him. Sent money for a ticket. I said I would go assess what he was really like before she came.” Her shoulders shook like a tree before a winter blast.
“Guessing he wasn’t what you expected.”
Her shudder made her teeth chatter. “He was nothing at all like what he’d led us to believe. He was dirty.” A little shrug. “I thought a wife could take care of that but—”
Andy sat back on his heels and waited for her to continue.
She stood across the fire from him and leaned on the axe handle as if preparing for a long spell of story telling. “He said he’d marry me instead and dragged me to the preacher. He meant to force me to comply.” Her eyes wide, she held his gaze. “I escaped and hid in the only place I could find. Your wagon.”
“Glad to be of service.” Irony filled his words.
That brought a fleeting smile.
