Page 15 of Redeeming the Outlaw
“We’re headed toward Lincoln?”
“Plans change, Whit Moore. Ma will decide where we are going.” Brodie walked off in the darkness. “Lucky, you have first watch. Sundown, you watch the horses. I’m going to bed.”
Whit returned to the fire and plopped down on the log next to Esther, their shoulders brushing as they gazed into the crackling flames together. He leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for what just happened, for the kiss. I had to make them believe we’re married.”
Esther’s eyes flashed with anger. “It was highly improper. My father will be furious.”
“Furious is better than dead,” he countered. “We have to play along if we’re going to get out of this alive.”
He watched as Esther bit her lip, considering his words. She handed him the plate. “I’m not hungry.”
“You need to keep up your strength.”
“I can’t eat right now.”
Whit shrugged before clearing the plate. He sat with Esther as the men started retiring for the night. “Let’s go to bed, honey,” he mumbled.
“No. I’m not your honey, so don’t use that term of endearment.” She pulled her paletot tighter around her.
“You’ll catch a cold if you stay out here. It is warmer in the tent. I promise you’ll be safe.”
“If it is God’s will, I catch a cold then… Oh!”
Whit scooped her up and started walking toward his tent. “I doubt God wants you to catch a cold.”
“Put me down, you buffoon.” Her tiny fists pummeled his shoulders.
“Once we are inside, you can do whatever you want.” He dropped her just outside the pup tent. “Crawl inside.”
“I don’t want to…”
“Remember what I said about behaving?”
She peered at him, her eyes wide with surprise as she blinked twice. Without a word, she ducked into the small tent, narrowly avoiding brushing against the sides. Whit followed suit, squeezing in beside her and feeling cramped in the tiny space. It was a tight fit for one person, let alone two.
“It’s cold in here,” she whispered.
“Take off your coat and use it as a blanket.”
Esther climbed out of the tent. She stood there for a minute before taking off her coat and tossing it inside the tent.
“Don’t think of running,” Whit warned. “I’m not chasing you in the dark.”
“I wasn’t.”
He watched her crawl back into the tent and silently handed her coat over. She lay down with her back to him, arms crossed tightly over her chest. He could barely make out her silhouette in the dim light. He draped her coat over like a makeshift blanket and scooted as far away as he could to give her some space. “Goodnight, Esther,” he whispered, his heart heavy with unspoken words.
There was a long pause before she shifted closer to him, seeking comfort in his warmth. “I want to go home,” she choked out through sobs. Without hesitation, Whit reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. Her hair tickled his face, but he didn’t mind as he tried to comfort her in the small space of the tent.
“I know, honey. I promise I’ll get you back home.”
“You don’t think those men will hurt me, do you?”
Whit brushed his lips against her hair. “No. I won’t let them. They’ll have to get through me first.”
“Thank you, Mr. Moore.”
“Whit. You need to call me Whit and pretend we are married until I take you home. Believe me when I say I’ll protect you, Esther.”
