Moving against the corner of the tarp, she tried to find shelter from the rain without being seen. She could wait here, then, when the storm passed, walk home.
Voices rose from within.
‘‘Now’s the time to move.’’ A woman’s voice startled Kora. ‘‘We could have the cattle across McQuillen’s land by daybreak.’’
‘‘It’s too risky in this weather. I wouldn’t mind the rain, but this storm is bad. A bolt of lightning could spook the whole herd and they’d scatter for miles. We’d all be dead men if we got caught rounding them up.’’
‘‘It’s too risky to wait!’’ the woman shouted above the others. ‘‘My father’s cattle are dying every day down below the caprock.’’
‘‘All right,’’ a second man, with an age-rusted voice, said. ‘‘My daughter’s right, but we have no choice. If the rain lets up a bit, be ready. But I’m not moving them in a storm.’’
‘‘Storm’s not letting up!’’ someone yelled. ‘‘It’ll pour like this till daybreak. Always does in early spring around here.’’ Metal clanged against metal. ‘‘Pass the coffeepot. We’re here till dawn.’’
‘‘We’ll give it an hour to let up,’’ the older voice ordered. ‘‘If not, we’ll wait until tomorrow night.’’ He lowered his voice slightly. ‘‘Want some coffee, darlin’?’’
‘‘Not out of one of those filthy mugs.’’ The woman’s words were almost lost in the movement.
The men made plans and drank as Kora tried not to shiver. She couldn’t wait for the rain to let up. She had to get home now. Win had to know what was planned. And if he was still too weak, she’d discuss what to do with Cheyenne and Logan.
Carefully taking one step away from the back of the tent, she walked straight into the black wall of a man’s coat.
His hands circled around her like iron as he pushed her back against the blackness surrounding the tent.
She opened her mouth to scream a moment before his fingers gagged her. He leaned close against her and whispered, ‘‘Quiet, Kora, or we’re both dead!’’
‘‘Wyatt!’’ Kora mumbled as he folded her into his slicker and pulled her away from the tent. ‘‘What are you doing here?’’
He ran, half carrying her, half dragging her for several yards.
‘‘Did Win send you?’’ Kora asked as she ran.
‘‘No,’’ Wyatt answered. ‘‘I know these men, but I’m not like them. Cattle are not worth a war.’’
‘‘But…’’
He found a horse hidden in the trees and tossed Kora roughly up. ‘‘I haven’t time to explain!’’ he shouted above the rain. ‘‘If you’re found here with me, we’re probably both goners. If they find out I’ve helped you, I won’t be seeing daylight. So be careful and ride!’’
As he said the last word, he slapped the rump of the horse, and Kora leaned close to the neck to hold on as the animal took off. Rain blinded her to the little the moonless night would have allowed her to see. She let the horse find its way as she held on.
Finally, when she was well away from the campfires, she managed to grab the reins. ‘‘North,’’ she whispered as if the horse might know his directions. ‘‘I have to go north.’’
Kora closed her eyes and buried her head in the horse’s mane. The animal kept moving, galloping across the open land as though he’d understood.
For a while, all she heard was the steady thumping of the hooves and the rain, but slowly she heard another sound.
Kora straightened as two riders came out of the night in front of her. They circled wide around her and flanked her. Fear made her shiver uncontrollably. Their horses were too powerful to belong to Andrew, and their slickers and hats made it impossible to see their faces. If they were the men Wyatt had been with, she might very well be signing her own death certificate as well as Wyatt’s.
She thought of trying to outrun them, but she was having enough trouble just holding on and they seemed seasoned horseman.
‘‘Kora!’’ Jamie shouted above the storm as her hand crossed the distance between the mounts and touched Kora’s arm. ‘‘We’ll see you home.’’
Kora glanced to the left and saw Cheyenne tip his hat slightly, spilling rain as he did. ‘‘Hold on tight!’’ he yelled. ‘‘Jamie, let’s ride.’’
‘‘Home,’’ Kora whispered, finding it hard to believe it had only been hours since she’d seen Win and not days.
Win paced the attic room. His head was swimming, his body ached, and he knew he needed to lie down, but he couldn’t stop. Kora was gone. How many times had she told him she didn’t believe anything lasted? Had she been fearing this time, predicting it, or planning it?
He walked over to her dressing area. Nothing was missing. She’d been kidnapped, he was sure of it.
Then he remembered how she’d cried out when they’d made love. Maybe she’d just been waiting for her chance to run. The snakes had given her that opportunity, and she wanted nothing of his to take with her.
Win slammed his fist against the dressing table in anger. The blow shattered the thin board and sent the perfume bottle flying. It hit the windowsill and broke, the thin blue glass still held in place by the decorative metal frame.
Win ignored the destruction he’d caused and knelt beside the window. He picked up the broken bottle and stared at it as the perfume dripped through his fingers.
Like the bottle, if Kora was gone, he was only a shell, broken inside and empty. Somehow, with her quiet gentle ways, she’d crawled into his heart, leaving it open for a pain he swore he’d never allow himself to feel again.
TWENTY-EIGHT
KORA CLIMBED THE STAIRS WITH BARELY ENOUGH ENERGY to lift her rain-soaked skirt. Jamie had offered to help her, but she wanted to face Win alone. She needed to be with him for a while, even if he were already asleep. She had several things she had to tell him, but with the rain growing worse, Kora knew she had little time.
The attic room was bathed in moonlight. Kora crossed slowly to the bed with its twisted quilts. Her wrapper lay over the chair where she’d left it, as though nothing had changed since dawn. She looked around the room, fighting down the tears. Win was gone. All day she’d struggled to get back to him. It was a relief that he must feel well enough to be out of bed, but little comfort. She needed his arms around her.
Pulling off her wet dress, Kora tossed it over the wooden panel. Without bothering to remove her damp underclothes, she slipped into her wrapper and struck a single light at Win’s washstand. Lifting his comb, she pulled it through her damp hair, letting the stress of the day pass away with the tangles. Somehow, she’d done the impossible. She’d made it back.
Silently Kora tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen, trying not to let her disappointment show. Jamie and Cheyenne sat across from each other drinking coffee. For once they weren’t yelling, but talking as they sliced cheese and bread from a large platter. While Kora waited for her tea, she sipped a glass of milk, and listened.
‘‘We’ll hitch a wagon and go after Dan tomorrow,’’ Cheyenne said as he pushed Jamie’s hand off his arm. ‘‘The rain looks like it’s getting worse tonight. He’ll be more comfortable with the old woman than caught in the storm.’’
‘‘But what about the plans I overheard?’’ Kora asked as she leaned against the counter so she could easily see both doors in case Win returned.
‘‘Nothing is moving tonight,’’ Cheyenne reasoned. ‘‘It would be suicide to move cattle in this storm. We’ll be lucky if the storm’s over by morning.’’
Jamie put her forearm on his shoulder and leaned against him. ‘‘I’ll go with you tomorrow. I know how to handle Dan.’’
‘‘You didn’t even notice he was missing.’’ Cheyenne shrugged her arm away. He’d done the action so often it was starting to look like a twitch he’d developed. ‘‘And the settlement’s no place for a lady.’’
