***
The lights of Casper filled the windscreen as Blake trundled down the low rise toward the city.
Darcy had fallen asleep in the passenger seat as darkness fell, and Blake didn’t bother to wake her as they entered the gateway to the Platte River.
It had been a long time since he had been in Casper and his lips twitched with happier memories.
Over the years he had heard the story of how his grandfather, Joshua, had come to the place in a wagon train headed to Oregon only to break off from the party at the Platte River bridge and forge his own path.
It spoke to the man’s character that several from the caravan had decided to go with him to start a new life on the wide expanse of the Wyoming prairie.
Turning the fancy car down a familiar alley, Blake headed to a boarding house he knew of and the promise of a hot meal and a warm bed.
Now that they were here the task of finding Pierce and his gang would weigh heavily on his shoulders, but even more so on Darcy’s. If something went wrong, if they failed to bring the attempted bank robbery to a peaceful end, there was no telling what might happen to the young woman curled up on the seat next to him.
“Darcy,” Blake called softly as he pulled up to the small house in the heart of the city. “Darcy, we’re here.”
Darcy sat up rubbing the sleep from her eyes. A full moon cast her face in shadow, but her pale skin glowed softly in the white light. “Where are we?” she asked, pulling the thick coat tighter around her. “Is this Casper?”
“We’re at a small hostel in Casper.” Blake opened his door. “We’ll be safe here for a time. I know the woman who runs the place, and she’s got a good heart and a better cook.”
Darcy smiled, unfolding her legs from the seat and reaching for the door as Blake stood stretching muscles that had too long been confined to the automobile.
“I could eat,” Darcy said, covering a yawn with a delicate hand, “but it is a good idea to stop somewhere you’re known?”
“Mrs. Bicks doesn’t ask questions,” Blake said, meeting her dark eyes. “We’ll get a good night’s sleep and go from there.”
“Do you have a plan?” Darcy tipped her head, her eyes shaded.
“I’ve got an idea. We can talk about it when we get inside.”
Darcy studied Blake for a long moment before nodding and getting out of the car. “I hope you know what you’re doing?” she said, stepping around the car and taking his arm as he led her up the stairs to the old log home.
“So do I,” Blake admitted with a wicked grin. “Just follow my lead,” he added as he pulled the door open and ushered her inside, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back.
***
“I can’t believe you signed us in as Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” Darcy hissed, as they sat at a table a half an hour later. “Everyone will be suspicious. I don’t think that old lady believed you for a minute, even if she is as deaf as a post.”
Blake smiled at the young woman across from him reaching out and taking her hand. “If we make people believe it, what do they have to doubt?” He stroked her hand softly hoping others would buy the premise that they were newlyweds traveling to the coast.
“This had better not be a rouse to get me into bed,” Darcy grumbled spooning up a bite of hearty stew. “At least the food is good,” she added. “I’m trusting you with everything, so don’t let me down.” Her eyes bore into him and Blake swallowed hard.
“I promise, I have no nefarious designs on your person.”
Darcy huffed, then spluttered as a laugh caught her by surprise. “Seriously? Who uses the word nefarious?” She chuckled again, putting her spoon down and reaching for her glass of cider catching Blake’s cheerful smirk. For a moment it seemed that they were the only two people in the room and that the laughter they shared washed away years of hardship, struggle, and sin.
“I guess, I do,” Blake finally managed as he dried his eyes. Other patrons were looking at them and grinning as if they were all in on the joke, but Blake knew it was that they thought two young people were starting out on a new life together with joy and laughter to guide their way.
Darcy wiped a tiny splash of cider from her lips and groaned. “I wish they had something stronger,” she hissed, pulling them both back down to reality. “I’m not used to this clean living bit.”
“You’re just tired,” Blake said, patting her hand. “You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”
Darcy raised one perfectly sculpted dark brow, her eyes skeptical. “I’d sleep better with a stiff drink, but I guess I’ll have to make do.” Lifting her glass the slim girl drank the glass dry then pushed herself to her feet. “I think I’m ready to turn in,” she said a little louder than necessary then smiled when Blake turned bright red.
A moment later he was guiding her down a dark corridor and into a quaint room with a comfortable looking bed covered in a bright quilt.
“Don’t worry,” Blake said, as Darcy swiveled to look at him. “I’ll take the chair.”
Darcy studied him for a moment then nodded, slipping out of the silky dress she wore and headed to the bed in nothing but her brassier and knickers.
Blake spun on his heel, averting his eyes as she slipped beneath the blankets with a wicked laugh.
“Good night Turnip,” Darcy drawled. “Sleep well.”
Blake put out the light and pulled his boots off before dropping into the fat arm chair in the corner of the room and pulling his coat over his body. “Good night,” he whispered a benediction to the day.
Chapter 11
