“I’m sure it’s nothing.” The foolish notion of kissing her forehead in reassurance flittered through his brain. This mission was getting to him. He touched her sleeve. “If we’re being watched, it’s best to find out now. Head home. I’ll be there soon as I can.”
He stood watching for a moment or two as she headed down the plank sidewalk toward the mercantile.
Should he tell her she and her father needed to leave town if he wasn’t at their place by dinner? No, it couldn’t be anything that serious. Yet.
CHAPTER 23
Devon rubbed his neck. The chill was still there. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he passed in front of the quartermaster’s depot and started down the other side. A sergeant looked up from the bench out front where he sat. A cigar stub wobbled between his teeth.
“My girl lost her reticule.” Devon nodded to the man.
“Maybe you distracted her.” The sergeant chuckled.
“Probably did.” Devon smirked.
“Happy hunting.” The sergeant settled back on the bench.
“Thanks.” Devon shuffled off around the building, muscles tense.
He stepped from between the buildings, passed a couple of soldiers lugging a crate toward the loading dock, and walked toward the far end. The whittling fellow had left his perch. Devon’s step quickened.
There he was. He hovered near the side path Devon and Frieda had taken to the street a few minutes before. His trousers sagged, as did the coat, as though he’d borrowed his papa’s clothes or was too poor to buy his own. The fellowturned, his face shadowed. Their gazes locked across the distance. Something familiar…
The youth pivoted and hiked toward the tree line.
Devon followed, keeping parallel to the buildings, not heading directly for the youth but closing the distance. By the time Devon passed the depot and path, the fellow was almost to the woods, slugging through waves of buffalo grass.
The reticule forgotten, Devon turned toward the trees. His longer, stronger legs gained ground through the silvery-green waves.
The flop-hatted fellow glanced over his shoulder, reached down, and yanked off a boot.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to talk,” Devon called out. Best to maintain an air of normalcy, but his hand hovered near his coat flap where the solid metal of his revolver pressed the holster to his thigh.
The youth tossed a second boot aside and broke into a run. Devon took off after him. Into the trees, they flew. The boy plowed through brush and undergrowth, low-lying branches tearing at his flapping coat.
Devon’s hat snagged on an outstretched limb. He kept going, pumping his arms and crashing through the thistles and brush, his feet and lower legs protected by his thick cavalry boots.
A murder of crows took flight. Their caws echoed overhead.
The boy stumbled, caught himself, and drove on.
The ground sloped. Water rumbled to the left. They were coming upon the river. The boy vaulted over a downed tree trunk and ran on. Sunlight poured into the clearing ahead.
A branch scratched at Devon’s face. He backhanded it out of the way, closing quickly. Suddenly, the boy’s feet flew out from beneath him. He shot down the hill on his side, hit a bump, and rolled. Devon pivoted and skittered down the slope on the sides of his boots. Bending his knees, he struggled to slow hisdescent and keep upright. Pebbles and soil scattered in his wake.
The Colorado River gurgled beyond a strip of cattails and grasses. Cottonwoods loomed along the banks.
The fellow gained his feet. Devon lunged. The youth landed with a grunt, Devon atop him. A sheathed knife swung from the stranger’s side. Devon scrambled to pin him down, slamming the scoundrel’s wrists to the leaf-strewn moss.
The youth’s hat tumbled off. Long honey-blond hair spewed from beneath. Goosebumps swept over Devon’s limbs. The face. Her face. Morning Fawn.Dear God. It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of spring water over his head on a sweat-dripping day. Every droplet of air evaporated from his lungs.
He rocked backward. “What the devil…” Words failed him. He waved his hand over her. “Dressed like…”
Hazel eyes bore into him with fiery venom. “Get off me.” She shoved him with more force than he’d imagined her capable of.
Mouth agape, he landed on his backside.
She scrambled to her bloodied feet. “What areyoudoing here? That’s the question. You two-faced liar.” She picked up her hat and swung it at him.
