The second rider, a tall black man wearing a patched jacket, frowned as he slid out of his saddle.
“What are you doing, George?” The red-shirt man jabbed his finger at the new arrival. “Get back on your horse and round up Mr. Franklin’s Thoroughbred.”
“Yes, sir.” George pivoted and mounted.
The boss narrowed his eyes at Devon and rested his hand on his holster. “And who might you be? Don’t let that pretty face fool you. She’s a real wildcat.”
Devon tightened his grip on Morning Fawn’s wrist and drew her to her feet as he stood. “I recognize her. I helped rescue her from the Comanches.”
“Rescue?” She lunged against his hold. “Kidnapped.”
The fellow blinked wide and nudged his battered brown hat up a notch off his forehead, revealing a receding hairline. “You’re Reynolds?”
Morning Fawn blew out a breath. “You two should have a lot to talk about.” Lace trim hung loose from one of her sleeves, probably torn in the scuffle. Dirt marred her green plaid dress. “Both of you are money-grubbers willing to do anything for a dollar.”
The man stuck out his chest, stretching his worn suspenders. “I heard tell you did fine work, but I also heard you got yourself in trouble at Fort Belknap. Escaped from the provost marshal and went on the run. What’d they do? Force you to enlist?” He nodded toward Devon’s uniform.
“You heard wrong about the provost marshal. Just a bunch of trumped-up charges from a colonel who had a personal grudge. And no one forced me. I volunteered. Mister?”
“Owens.” He swiped his neckerchief over his brow. “Mr. LeBeau’s overseer. It’s my duty to get this girl back to her uncle.” That explained the whip on the pommel of his saddle.
“I was on my way to visit Mr. LeBeau when I saw this girl galloping by and you behind her yelling ‘thief.’ I’d be pleased to?—”
Morning Fawn pivoted and shot her hand toward Devon’s holster.
Devon clamped his fingers over hers on the leather flap. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re the same weasel warrior you were last year.”
The nerve of her. Devon’s jaw clenched.You have no idea what I am.“I gave my word to your uncle last year that I’d bring you home, and I kept it.” He met her glare.
She looked at him as if he were a vulture hovering over a wounded deer. “Your word is about as good as dirt.” She scrunched up her mouth and spat on the ground, barely missing a spider. “Let me go. I can walk to a horse and ride back without help from the likes of any of you.”
“You ain’t walking nowhere.” Owens grabbed a hemp rope from his saddle horn.
Devon stiffened. “You don’t need to tie her.”
“Are you insane? I don’t aim to have to chase her again today. This is Sunday. Time for a man to have a rest, not go gallivanting all over the country.”
“I’ll tie her.” Without letting go of Morning Fawn, Devon snatched the coil from Owens. He wasn’t about to allow this oaf to put his hands on her.
“You take a mighty keen interest in the girl, Lieutenant Reynolds.” Owens threw back his shoulders and swatted at a mosquito. “There’s no reward for bringing her back if that’s what you’re after.”
A tinge of heat burned Devon’s cheeks as he avoided Morning Fawn’s prying gaze and grabbed her other wrist. “I’m not afterpayment, Mr. Owens, just a job until my eye heals up enough for me to return east to my regiment.” He squeezed both of her hands in his one and cinched the piece of hemp tight for Owens’s sake, flinching right along with her as the frayed edges bit into her skin.
“You know what they’re going to do to me?” Morning Fawn lowered her voice for his ears only. “Lock me in the attic. Like when I first arrived. You know what they did then? Poured laudanum down my throat anytime I wouldn’t behave. That’s what you and your men are responsible for.”
Like a knife to his gut. Did she know that? He held his expression impassive and fought to steel his voice. “They weren’t my men. But I’m sorry for my part.”
“I bet you are.”
Owens shouldered his way between them. “Let me check those ropes.” He tugged on the loose ends of the knots, cinching them further.
George trotted up with the Thoroughbred in tow.
“I’ll put her on her horse.” Devon took her by the arm.
“Not hers. That’s the point. She’s not going near Mr. Franklin’s animal again. That man will sue Mr. LeBeau if there’s even a new scratch on the hoof.” Owens hooked his thumbs around his suspenders. “She’ll ride my horse. I’ll ride Mr. Franklin’s.”
