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February 16, 1874
"Caitlyn? Cait...honey, wake up." Resisting the soft, deep voice that pulled me back toward consciousness, I brushed at the feather that tickled my nose and snuggled more deeply into my pillow. "Com'on, sleepyhead..." A pair of arms tightened protectively around me as an amused chuckle warmed the air near my right ear. I blinked, opening my eyes to find myself lying on the quilt on the floor of Ruby's cabin, my head cradled against Hank's bare chest. My body was pressed tightly against his for warmth as the fire slowly died on the hearth, and I was clutching a fistful of blond hair in one hand. "Musta both dozed off, waitin' for the rain to stop." He brushed his lips across my forehead. "What time is it?" I yawned. "Can't get to my watch 'til you decide to let go." Hank grinned, glancing down at his captured curls. "But I'm in no hurry. Fact is, I'd be more'n happy to pull the quilt up around us and go back to sleep 'til mornin'." "I can't believe that I actually fell asleep lying on the floor," I admitted, sitting up slowly. "Even in a nice, soft, warm bed, I haven't slept that soundly in years." "Ya'd had a hard day." "I've had plenty of hard days--followed by seemingly endless nights spent staring at the ceiling." I bent back down to kiss him. "The difference is you...that you're lying here holding me." "Sooner I can hold you every night the better," he said softly, pulling me off-balance so that I landed on top of his chest. "Where are you hiding that watch?" I smiled. "Top of my shirt." One long arm snaked out and retrieved the pocket watch. "It's a quarter past one!" I held it up to catch the light from the oil lamp. "I should have been home hours ago." "Nobody but me knows yer not tucked into yer own bed." He took the timepiece from me and laid it aside. "So we can either go back to sleep or start back now. Woke you up so you'd have the choice." "It could be raining again by dawn. Perhaps we should go." I stood and stretched, then ran my hands through my hair before quickly braiding it. "That kinda downpour, there's bound to be floodin' in and around the creek-bed. Probably be safer to stick to the road. No idea what kinda shape it's in--I never got around to checkin' on it this afternoon." He pulled his shirt on, then broke up the last log to make certain that the fire wouldn't rekindle, while I folded up the quilt and put it away. After blowing out the lamp, we brought our horses out of the barn, and with Hank leading the way at a slow, steady pace we followed the rutted, overgrown road away from the cabin. Nearly washed out after so many years of disuse, it would require several days of hard work with a team of horses and a plow to clear and smooth, but with the moon full it was simple enough to navigate around the worst of the obstacles. Finally, just as the clock inside struck two, we dismounted in front of my house. "Never meant to get you home this late," Hank apologized, taking me in his arms for a long kiss while standing on the porch. "Go on--get some sleep. I'll put Storm up. You gotta be at work a few hours from now." "Won't it look strange for you to come riding into town at three o'clock in the morning?" I rested my head against his chest. "Doubt anybody'll be awake to notice." He shrugged. "Even if they do, folks are used to me keepin' late hours. I'm the last one in town goes to bed most every night." "I love you," I whispered, raising up on tiptoe to kiss him again. "Love you, too." Hank released me. "See ya after school."
The sound of hoofbeats pounding against the packed dirt of the road leading up to my homestead, along with Zeke's low growl of warning, woke me instantly from a deep sleep. I glanced quickly at the clock, noting that it was 4:45, then grabbed my rifle and hurried to peer through one of the front windows. My heart beating a tattoo against my ribcage, I pushed aside the curtain and saw long hair blowing underneath the hat on the man riding hard in my direction. Hank. Something had to be terribly wrong to be bringing him back to my door once again this soon. Forgetting that I wore nothing but a thin cotton nightgown, I stepped out barefooted onto the porch, not even feeling the biting pre-dawn chill. I waited, watching him jump down from Hurricane and take the steps in two quick strides, my fear growing stronger when I saw the look in his eyes. Groaning, he pulled me into his arms, his face tight with desperate resolve. "Hank, what is it?" I demanded anxiously. "What's wrong?" "I gotta get the hell outta here, Cait. Leave Colorado Springs. Now. Before first light." "Why?" I stared in him in shocked disbelief. "Daniel's plannin' on arrestin' me for murder." "Murder?" I asked in bewilderment, clutching his arms with both hands as I faced him. "WHOSE murder?" Leading me into the house, he closed the door, then held me against him as if he never meant to let go. "Somebody killed one of the Walker brothers. Broke into the jail and knocked out Daniel, then knifed Cole and took Doyle with him. Sheriff's got it in his head I'm the one done it." "Why you? Why would you want to kill Cole Walker?" "Can't think o' many folks who'd be grieved to hear either one of the Walkers met his maker, but Daniel figures I got special reason to hate 'em--with what they had in mind to do to you and shootin' me in the back. Alls I know is Lacy, one of my girls, said he come by sometime around one, lookin' to talk to me, and when I was nowhere to be found that made me the guilty party." "But...you were with me!" I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare. "From late afternoon until a little more than two hours ago. You were nowhere near the jail!" "Tell it to Daniel," he said grimly. "I fully intend to." I drew him over to the sofa, then lit a candle against the darkness. "At daybreak. We can go to him together-- tell him that he's wrong. Explain that this is all some kind of terrible mistake." "Ain't no mistake far as he's concerned. Me'n'Simon been buttin' heads ever since he got here. Nothin' he'd like better'n havin' the excuse he needs to string me up." He laid his hat on a low table. "For the love of God, Hank, no matter how much friction that there's been between the two of you, he can't just claim that you killed a man without any proof!" I protested wildly. "He's doin' it." "With or without you, I'm going to talk to Sheriff Simon. There is no reason whatsoever for him not to believe me." "No reason 'cept what yer sayin' don't fit with his plans," he challenged. "What if he accuses you of coverin' up?" "Then I'll find some way to convince him." "Been guilty of a whole lotta things in my life, but I ain't never done murder." Hank ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Way I see it, best chance I got of walkin' away from this is to try'n figure out who did kill Walker. Seein' as how Daniel's got it in his mind to pin it on me, he won't be lookin' real hard." "The best chance that you have is to turn yourself in--for me to go along and tell him the truth...that we were caught out at the cabin by the rain and fell asleep." "Ain't nothin' I can do to clear my name from behind bars," he objected softly. "An' that's exactly where I'm gonna be if Simon gets his hands on me." "But if you run, everyone in town will assume that you're guilty. You could get shot," I whispered, my eyes filling with tears. "Hank, don't do something that you might end up regretting. Please?" "This ain't back East. Out here, folks don't take a whole lot of convincin' to put a rope around yer neck. I don't run, I'm a dead man." "Then take me with you." "God knows, if I could, I would." He cupped my face between his palms and looked into my eyes. "But I can't. It's gonna take everything I got in me to walk outta that door, not knowin' for how long...or when I'll see you again...but I got no other choice." "You do have a choice," I said levelly. "I'll go anywhere that you want to go. Leave everything that I own behind. I can have Storm saddled up, be packed and ready twenty minutes from now. When I don't show up for school, Matthew and Sully will be here looking for me by 9:00 at the latest. I'll leave a note on the table, asking them to take in my animals. As for the rest--whoever wants it, can have it." "I can't let you do it, Cait. Not now." His jaw clenched. "Ridin' with me could get you killed." "I'm willing to take my chances." "I'm not." Hank cradled me tightly in his arms. "You'n'Zach are the only good things ever come along in my life... No way I'm gonna risk you gettin' hurt--maybe losin' you. I need you to stay put--here where yer safe--'til this is all over." "What about the way that I feel?" I clung to him. "How can you possibly expect me to just sit here and wait, not knowing if you're dead or alive?" "I'm not gonna die," he swore gently. "I promise you." "You can't promise me that. And we both know it." "May not be gone for long. Not if I get lucky," he whispered against my hair. "Plan on layin' low for a few days...seein' if I can turn up anything'll put the blame back where it belongs." "And if you don't?"	 "Hafta leave Colorado, I won't go without sayin' goodbye." He swallowed hard. "Ya got my word on it." "Where would you go?" I pressed my face against his throat. "Better you don't know. That way I ain't askin' you to lie," he reminded me quietly. "Telegram or letter shows up, signed 'John'--it'll be from me. Lettin' you know I'm safe." "I don't keep much money here at the house, but you're welcome to what I do have," I offered, steeling myself to accept what I couldn't change. "Money ain't the problem. Spendin' it is...least 'til I get far enough away from here nobody's gonna recognize me. Could use enough food to get by on. Oats for my horse." "Anything that you want--it's yours." "Cane's been rode hard." Hank got to his feet. "I need to get him inta the barn and rubbed down. Be back soon as I can." He vanished into the darkness, and I lit a lamp, somehow managing to remain calm as I automatically put on the coffee pot. Realizing that he would be unlikely to take the risk of lighting a cooking fire for at least 24 hours, I started water heating to boil half a dozen eggs. The pantry yielded up dried beef, bacon, cured ham, cheese, coffee, cornmeal, flour, two tins of milk, dried fruit, and beans, and I sliced a fresh loaf of bread so that he could make sandwiches. Taking down the parafleche that Sully had made for me, I wrapped a bar of soap, needles, thread, a tin of matches, and smaller tins of salt, baking powder and soda into a separate bundle, then filled the carrier bag with food and supplies. I had just finished rolling two of my heaviest wool blankets into a tight cylinder and tying them with twine when Hank came back inside, dropping his heavy coat over a chair. "You'll need something to cook in." I tried to keep my voice from quivering. "Keep that kinda gear in my saddlebags for when I'm out huntin'. Probably go by Ruby's cabin and pick up more." There was paper and a pen on the table, and he sat down, beginning to write. I watched for a moment, then went to stand behind him, my heart twisting as I read over his shoulder. "Hank, please don't..." "It's for Zach, much as for you," he interrupted quietly. "If I can't come back, yer gonna need to be able to sell my property so we can afford to buy land somewheres else. An' my kid needs money to live on. Besides, anything happens to me, wanna make sure the two of you get everything that oughta rightfully be yers." I was silent as he scrawled out a simple Will making his son and me his heirs in case of his death and a letter giving me Power of Attorney to act on his behalf in handling the assets that he had listed. After writing out a third letter to his business partner, he signed all of the documents and folded them neatly, then opened the clock on the wall and put the papers inside for safekeeping. "Take all o' what I just wrote to Matthew to look over and file proper. Will may not be legal, seein' as how I got no witnesses but you, but it's the best I can do. An' you make real sure Jake gets that letter. He's gonna hafta take up the slack--makin' deposits and keepin' the books--seein' if we got enough stock on hand. I been handlin' that enda things, so if he can't figure something out, he needs to call on Mark. He'll know. Mark's the main one tends bar for me: dark hair--moustache. You tell him I said to look after ya. Not to let Slicker cheat you outta my fair share of the profits." "I can't believe that this is really happening." I choked back tears. Turning to face me, Hank's mind was still focused on settling his financial affairs. "Biggest parta my money ain't in the bank. Never have liked doin' business with Preston. All's I use that account for is wirin' money to Denver when I ain't got time to go myself, an' I need to order more whiskey or pay the school. Keep 'bout five-hundred in it, give or take fifty, and it's mine--not money belongs to the Gold Nugget. Ya need more'n that, Zach knows where it's hid." "I couldn't possibly..." "Cait, we ain't got much time left--an' I don't wanna waste it. Say you'll do what I'm askin' ya to do," he requested flatly. "This whole thing is crazy." Wrapping my arms around his waist, I rested my head against the front of his shirt. "We were together most of last night. You never left my side for more than a few minutes in over ten hours. There is absolutely no way on God's green Earth that YOU could have killed Cole Walker!" "All we gotta do now is convince the local sheriff." "How are you planning on doing that?" "Don't know yet," he admitted. "But I'll figure out somethin'. If I don't, I'm gonna hang--or we'll be spendin' the rest of our lives lookin' over our shoulders, wonderin' if sooner or later some old Wanted poster is gonna catch up with me. We'd never be free, no matter where we go. What kinda life is that? 'Specially for somebody like you?" "Any kind of life that we have together would be better than one that I had to live without you," I replied levelly. "Further west you go, harder a woman's life gets." "Nothing could possibly be any harder for me than loving you this much and having to watch you go. Don't you know that? Nothing scares me half as much as the thought that I might never see you again." "Sure drove your ducks to a poor market," he whispered thickly. "The only regret that I have is taking so long to get them there." "Me, too." His mouth lowered to fit mine. The kiss was soft and sweet, a sad goodbye, and when it ended he sighed, trailing his fingers down the side of my face. "I gotta do something about changin' the way I look. Description of me'll be goin' out on the wire a few hours from now--soon as Daniel gets a warrant issued for my arrest. Won't be more'n a day or two 'fore my face is plastered all over the territory. Brought along a razor to get rid o' my beard...and Lacy give me some of her hairdye. I'll be needin' ya to help me with that." Picking up a small case he took it into my bedroom, then moved the washbowl underneath the mirror so that he could see how to shave. The realization that Hank was truly leaving finally beginning to sink in, I sat on my unmade bed and watched, tears flowing down my cheeks, as he lathered his face. Quickly scraping away the blond beard and moustache, he splashed water on his skin to rid it of the last of the soap, then toweled it dry. "Cait? You warm enough?" Noticing that I was still barefooted and wore nothing but my cotton gown, he sat down on the bed and wrapped his hand around my right foot. "Feet are cold as ice." Kneeling in front of me, he put my slippers on, then made me stand while he buttoned me into my heavy velvet robe. "Rather be takin' yer clothes off than puttin' 'em on," he admitted huskily. Clinging to him, I cried bitterly. After years of feeling alone, even in a crowded room--thinking that nothing would ever change that--I had fallen in love with Hank Lawson. Now my dream of marrying Hank--living with him and bearing his children--seemed to be slipping out of my grasp, leaving me more empty than I had ever felt in my life. Hank waited out the storm of emotion, rocking me in his arms, knowing that there was no other comfort that he could offer. Looking up, I saw moisture glistening in his eyelashes, his own tears barely held in check. When I was finally able to pull myself back together he removed his outer shirt and two henleys, leaving his chest bare. "Can't afford to ruin what clothes I got with hair-dye," he explained quietly, turning a straight chair around and straddling it backwards so that his hair was within easy reach. "Only brought one set extra. Figured I'd be better off buyin' new ones." "I've never used anything like this before," I confessed, reading the directions on the label. "Stands to reason it'll go on easier if you do the barberin' part first." He ran his hands through his thick locks and down to the base of his skull. "Cut it off here. Above my collar." "Not that short," I protested softly. "It'll grow back." His eyes held a hint of regret as he turned to meet my gaze, obviously remembering our conversation from only hours earlier.	 "All that really matters at the moment is keeping you safe," I whispered, threading my fingers through his silky tresses. "Whatever that takes. But why don't we wait to decide how much of this has to come off until after we change the color? To see what kind of difference it's really going to make for you to be clean-shaven, with your hair that dark?" He paused for a moment, studying my face, then nodded. "Ya can give it a try--but hurry." With an old sheet on the floor and a towel draped around his shoulders to catch any spills, I quickly applied the "walnut" haircolor, making certain that it coated all of the blond strands evenly. When I rinsed it out 20 minutes later, his hair had turned a shiny, deep brown, and I combed it back into a tightly braided queue to make the curl less obvious. After scrutinizing him carefully, I reached for an eye pencil and darkened his brows. "Take a look." I removed the towel and motioned toward the mirror. Without facial hair, his brunette mane slicked severely back away from his face, only the blue eyes seemed familiar. He gazed at himself critically, evaluating the effect, and I held my breath, waiting for his decision. "Do you still want me to use these?" My stomach knotting with nervous tension, I forced myself to pick up the shears. "Feels like people are lookin' at me hard, I can hack off the braid later on with my knife." Hank smiled down at me, his expression tender. "Wouldn't be the first time." "What are you going to do about a horse?" I asked quietly, putting the brow pencil into his razor case. "Anybody who knows you could recognize Hurricane." "Nothin' I can do. All the rest of my horses are at the livery." He slipped back into his shirts, unfastening the top button on his trousers so that he could tuck the tails inside. "There's Storm." "I won't take your mare, Cait." "I only own three horses, and the other two are draft animals." I fought not to cry. "Take her!" "Can't do that." Hank shook his head slightly, sitting down on the end of the bed and pulling me into his lap. "Storm and you belong together, same as you'n'me do." "Then let me go with you," I pleaded. "I don't wanna leave any more'n you want me to...but it won't always be like this. We just gotta get around this stone in the road." "It feels more like Pike's Peak." "Climbed it once--so I know it can be done." He tilted my head back and looked into my eyes. "Things'll still work out the way we got planned. There's no way I'm gonna let Simon cheat me outta havin' you. If I got no choice but to clear out, I'll send for you soon as I can. Swear to God, I will." "Hank..." I sobbed out his name. "Willya wait for me?" he whispered. "Always," I promised, reaching up to splay my fingers across his freshly-shaven cheek. Hank molded me against the hard contours of his body, his mouth plundering mine, taking my breath away. A fierce, aching need flooded through my veins as his hands slipped inside of my wrapper, the only barrier between my skin and his touch the thin cotton of my gown. His tongue probed and tasted, hinting of a depth of hunger that I was only beginning to truly understand. "I love you, Caitlyn." His voice was soft and ragged with desire. And then he was gone. |
