Page 126 of Texas Glory
“Rawley unlocked the door. We need to go.” She slipped her hands underneath his arms. “Help me. Come on. Get up.”
Slowly, laboriously, she got him to his feet. He draped an arm over her shoulder, and she wrapped her arm below his waist, trying to give him some support.
“Horses?” he whispered.
“They never took off the saddles,” Rawley rasped into the darkness. “But we gotta hurry. They’ll whip my butt if they wake up.”
They staggered into the night Cordelia didn’t know how Dallas managed to pull himself into the saddle, but he did.
Then they were galloping, galloping toward freedom.
Cordelia kept the map Dallas had drawn emblazoned in her mind, her gaze focused on the North Star he had shown her one night. She knew they were heading in the right direction, away from their captors, but she didn’t know exactly where the house was, or the town, or Houston’s home. They could all easily be missed with the vast expanse of land stretching out before them.
She had no way to gauge the time as the steady pounding of the hooves echoed over the plains. Rawley kept glancing back over his shoulder. She didn’t blame him. She had little doubt his punishment would be severe if they were caught.
“Dee!”
She jerked her gaze around. Dallas was slouched over the saddle horn, his horse slowing to a trot. She brought her own horse to a stop and circled back as Satan staggered to a halt.
“Dallas?”
His breathing was shallow, his knuckles white as he gripped the saddle horn. “Tie me.” “What?”
“I’m close to passing out. If I fall, you won’t have the strength to get me back on this horse.” He struggled to loosen the rope from its place on his saddle. “I want you to tie me to the saddle so I can’t lose my seat.”
She glanced around. “Surely you can hold on a little while longer. We can’t be that far from home.”
“We have hours yet to ride.” A corner of his mouth tilted up. “That’s the problem with owning so much land. It takes forever to get home.”
Rawley had sidled his horse up against hers, his young face etched in worry.
Cordelia reached out, took his hand, and squeezed gently. “You keep a look out while I help Mr. Leigh. If you see riders coming, you ride fast and hard for town.”
He gave a quick nod and settled his anxious gaze in the direction from which they’d ridden. Cordelia dismounted, worked the rope free from the saddle, and glanced up at Dallas, the pain carved deeply into the creases of his face.
“What do I do?” she asked.
“Slip the rope beneath the legging of the saddle … wrap it around my leg … bring the rope up … loop it around my waist and the horn in a figure eight … take it to the other side, wrap it … secure my hands to the saddle horn … give me your word if something happens and I can’t ride … you’ll keep going.”
“No.”
“Dee—”
“No,” she insisted as she wound the rope around his leg and knotted it. “If you want me safe, then you’d best find a way to keep riding.”
“When did you … get so ornery?”
She knew it was unfair to ask so much of him when he was suffering as he was, but she’d be damned before she’d let him give up. She brought the rope up to his waist, careful not to let the rough hemp touch his bare back.
When she had finished following his instructions, she mounted Lemon Drop and took Satan’s reins. “Am I going in the right direction?”
He gazed at the stars before looking out over the land. “Head south … east.”
She kicked her horse into a lope, ignoring her husband’s strangled groans, hoping that home lay just beyond dawn.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
