Miss Murray on the Cattle Trail(39)
A rush of irrational joy coursed through him. Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four more hours with Dusty!
He reached to shake Davidson’s extended hand. “Thanks, Sheriff.”
Sheriff Davidson grinned at him. “I’ll find Cassidy and question him. You take care of Miss Murray, you hear?”
* * *
“No, Zach. I can’t.”
“Twenty-four hours, Dusty. It’s either that or send a bodyguard with you all the way to Chicago.”
“No,” she said again. But now her voice sounded more thoughtful. “A bodyguard would have to be one of your hands, am I right?”
“Yeah. Skip, maybe.”
“But you need Skip. He’s your second in command. You need all your men, Zach.”
“If it would keep you safe, I’d do without one.”
“Oh, Zach, I can’t let you do that. I will wait an extra day and catch the train tomorrow.”
Zach let out the breath he’d been holding. “Thanks, Dusty.”
“But on one condition,” she said softly.
“Name it.”
“After breakfast, we spend the rest of the day here.”
“You mean here, in your hotel room?”
She nodded, her cheeks turning pink. “In...um...in bed.”
* * *
Late in the afternoon, a loud, insistent pounding on the hotel room door roused them both from sleep. Zach cracked open one eyelid. “What the—”
“Miss Murray?” a muffled voice shouted. “There’s a message for...there’s a message from the sheriff.”
Zach chuckled. “Guess the sheriff knows where I am. Hope it doesn’t compromise your reputation for him to find me here.”
She ran a lazy hand over his bare chest. “What makes you think I would care?”
He squeezed her shoulder, then pressed a kiss on her soft skin, rolled out of bed and pulled on his jeans. To stop the insistent banging he padded barefoot across the room to the door and unbolted the lock.
The young hotel assistant, his face scarlet, thrust a folded sheet of paper into his outstretched hand and fled back down the stairs.
Zach unfolded the paper and had to laugh. The message from Sheriff Davidson was short and to the point, consisting of just two words: Got him.
“Dusty?”
He turned toward the bed, where Dusty was now sitting up, the sheet clutched to her chin, her eyes wide. “What is it?” she whispered.
“Dusty, let’s go for a walk.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Cassidy’s in jail, and I want to walk down by the river with you. There’s some things I want to say.”
She put on a pair of jeans and a shirt, brushed her hair and wound it into a bun at the base of her neck and pulled on her boots.
Outside, they passed the livery stables, where Cherry had housed the remuda, and when the stores and houses petered out at the edge of town they skirted the slow-moving river until they came to a little-used path. Half a mile farther it led to a footbridge. The pretty stream that flowed underneath fed into the river somewhere beyond, where it curved out of sight.
Zach guided her to the center of the tree-shrouded bridge. “Look down there,” he said. “Can’t see around the bend, can you?”
“No,” she said.
“I figure that’s kinda like you and me. We know what’s here today. But we don’t know what’s around the bend.”
“I do know what’s around the bend, Zach. Tomorrow I will climb on a train and I’ll never see—” Her voice broke off.
“I don’t believe that, Dusty. I can’t.”
“I wish things could stay the same,” she breathed. “Why can’t this beautiful, precious thing go on forever?”
“You know why, honey. It will always be beautiful and precious. It just can’t go on. Nothing stays the same, Dusty. Nothing.”
She brushed tears out of her eyes. “I feel like I’m walking off a cliff. The future feels like a big blank wall.”
“Well, Dusty, it isn’t a blank wall. You’ll write articles for your newspaper and I’ll buy some land and start my ranch. Neither of those things is a blank wall.”
“Oh, Zach,” she sobbed. “I’m not strong enough for this.”
He put his arms around her. “Dusty, right about now there’s just one thing we can do. We’re workin’ so hard to forget this painful thing, you gettin’ on that train, that we’re forgetting the good thing. And that’s you and me.”
“But...” She struggled to get the words out. “But things are never going to be the same. Never.”
“Yeah, you’re right, honey. Things are never gonna be the same again. But you know what?” He wiped his thumbs across the tear trails on her cheeks.
“W-what?”
“You and I won’t ever be the same, either. We’ve changed each other.”
He placed his forefinger under her chin, tipped her face up to his and kissed her, long and deep. He could feel her body trembling, and it just about undid him. He had to hold it together until she climbed on that train, and then...
Oh, hell. Then he would climb on a horse and shut his eyes and let the animal carry him wherever it wanted.
Chapter Twenty-Six
At ten the next morning, Alex rolled over to find Zach gone. She bolted out of bed, dressed hastily in the green bombazine travel suit and black leather shoes she’d purchased her first day in town, and grabbed her tapestry travel bag. Then she sprinted all the way to the train station.
The cattle had already been loaded, so she was surprised to see the cowhands milling around the railroad platform. Juan stepped forward and grasped her travel bag.
“What are you all doing here?” she asked. “Why aren’t you heading back to Smoke River?”
Zach’s deep voice rolled over her. “The hands wanted to wait and say goodbye to you, Dusty.”
“Oh.” Oh. Tears stung under her lids.
He took her aside and bent to speak near her ear. “Cassidy’s still in jail,” he said quietly. “Sheriff got a wire this morning that linked him to the cattle rustlers. Your hunch was correct. I didn’t want you to be uneasy about it.”
Uneasy! Uneasy was getting on the train and leaving him!
She could scarcely breathe. She blinked hard and turned away.
The cattle cars, full of bellowing steers, rolled out of the station to make way for the passenger train behind it. Another engine chuffed to a stop and stood puffing clouds of steam into the cloudless blue sky while a uniformed conductor clanked down an iron step. Juan swung her travel bag up onto the train.
Zach’s hand touched her back. “Look over there,” he intoned.
The entire crew was lined up, waiting on the platform, Curly, Skip, José...all of them, even Cherry. Her heart swelled.
She went down the line and kissed every single one of their bristly cheeks. Cherry’s eyes got all red and wetlooking, and he reached out and patted her head, then turned away and blew his nose. She came to Roberto last. His somber brown eyes looked deep into her own, and she brushed her lips over first one cheek and then the other. “Roberto...” Her tears spilled over.
He took both her hands in his. “Señorita Alex.” The old man swallowed hard. “No more cows, eh?”
“No more cows. Roberto, I will never forget you.” She kissed him one last time.
“Vaya con Dios,” the cook murmured.
Zach walked her away from the gathered cowhands, turned her to face him and laid both hands on her shoulders. “It’s real hard to say it, Dusty.” His eyes looked shiny.
“I—Oh, Zach.” She mopped at her tears with the handkerchief he pressed into her palm, but they kept coming anyway.
“Zach, I want you to know something, and I want you to remember it always.”
He looked startled for a moment. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“You’re much more than a trail boss, Zach. Much more.”
He looked down into her eyes without smiling. “And you’re much more than a newspaper reporter. You ever think of that?”
He pulled her into his arms and she felt his mouth on hers for the last time. Every bone in her body wanted to turn away from the train, climb on a horse and ride back to Smoke River with him.
“Come on,” he said at last. “You’re gonna miss your train.” He picked her up and set her feet on the iron step, then gave her a little push. She looked down at him through a blur of tears, and he swept off his hat.
For the rest of her life, she thought raggedly, she would always remember that battered gray Stetson.
The engine tooted twice. The railcars gave a clang and a jolt and started to slide on down the track. Zach stood motionless, his hat in his hand, and she held on to the steel pole and leaned out, watching until she could no longer see him.
Then she made her way inside the passenger car, found an empty seat and had a good cry.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Several months passed, the longest, slowest months Zach could ever remember. With his share of the profits from the cattle drive he bought land adjoining Charlie Kingman’s spread and good starter stock, and built a sturdy barn, a bunkhouse and three corrals. He also started digging the foundation for the ranch house. He wanted it built of stone, with a big fireplace in every bedroom. He guessed he kept imagining Dusty getting up in the morning and putting her bare toes on a cold floor and...