Page 8 of Mail-Order Bride Runaway
Andy had shot the animal or at least shot in that direction and rescued her. Exactly like a hero in one of theMen of the Westnovels. Except the heroine had been tied to a tree with evil men circling around her in a crazy dance.
A grin split her face. How often had she wished to have exciting experiences like those in the novels? Her smile faded and she gulped. A real adventure offered more excitement and fear than those in the stories. Mostly because in the story she knew how things would turn out.
She had no way of knowing how her real-life journey was going to end.
* * *
Andy slept lightly,half aware of Miss Epp’s every movement. Periodically she put more wood on the fire. Once he thought he heard her chuckle but decided he must be mistaken because she was not in an amusing situation. He shifted away from a lump on the ground. Would she appeal to her father to make him marry her? But wait. Hadn’t she said her mother was a widow? Bad news for her mother but perhaps good news for him.
The sky turned gunmetal gray. He sat up, stretched, and glanced across the fire. She was gone! He bolted to his feet. The wagon stood where he’d parked it and past that, the horses rested. His breath whooshed out. His gaze went back to the spot where he’d last seen her. The blanket he’d lent her lay folded neatly.
The axe, he noted, had not been left behind.
Had she decided to walk away? That would solve his problem about what to do with her, but he doubted she’d get far. There was no town and no homes nearby. The leaves to his right rustled and she emerged into view. Her face shone as if she’d washed in the cold water of the river. Her hair was tied back with a—he squinted. Had she torn fabric from her dress to hold her hair? The ever-present axe swung from her hand.
He greeted her. “Morning.”
“And to you.” She leaned on the axe handle, eyeing him up. “You snore.”
“Lets the wild animals know there are humans nearby.” He grinned as he spoke.
“Humph. Seems you weren’t doing your job then.”
His eyebrows rose in question.
“Because that wild cat didn’t stay away.”
He laughed. “I’ll try and snore louder next time we’re camping together.”
Sunrise dawned in her cheeks. “I trust there won’t be a next time.”
“Me too.” He shifted his gaze to the river over her shoulder, studying her without looking directly at her. Dark shadows under her eyes. Jaw set in a determined line.
“Do you mind giving me a ride to the nearest train station?” She hung her head. “I’d offer to pay you, but my money’s in my valise back in Gunders Corner.”
The rising sun colored the sky orange. They needed to get on their way. “I’ll see that you get to a train.” His offer would put him days out of his way but what choice did he have?
“I appreciate that.”
The branches he’d gathered were almost gone. He’d need more to make coffee. He tossed on what was left and jogged into the trees in search of deadwood.
When he returned, Miss Epps stood at the back of the wagon, staring into the distance. He dumped his load and joined her. “Did you see something?” Had a rider or riders approached?
“No. Just thinking.” She straightened. “I’m so glad I came and not my mother. But she’ll be disappointed that our plans didn’t turn out as we expected.”
“You mean for your mother’s wedding?” Before she answered, he jogged to the river and filled a pot with water to hang over the heat. He tossed in a handful of ground coffee.
The axe still in her keeping, she moved closer and answered his question. “That was part of it.”
Mrs. Gunderson had given him enough biscuits for the journey—when he was the only traveler. He pulled out the sack she’d stowed them in and held it to Miss Epps. She took a biscuit, and he took one for himself. “I’ll ask the blessing.” He kept his grace short and sweet then took a bite as he waited for the coffee to boil then dipped out a cupful and handed it to his guest. A smile tugged at his lips to think of her as that. He filled his own cup and sipped the dark, potent liquid.
Miss Epps lifted her brew to her mouth.
He knew the minute the liquid reached her taste buds. Her eyes grew wide. Her mouth pressed into a thin line. She looked from side to side. His smile widened. “Looking for a place to spit it out?”
Her face twisted and she gulped audibly. “The coffee’s strong.”
The chuckle he’d been holding back got free. “I’ve been told my coffee is enough to strip the bark off a tree.”
