“What happened?”
“I was hurrying too much, tripped, and fell hard.”
Eddie trotted to her side. “Mama?”
“I’m all right.”
“You falled down.”
“I did.”
Eddie studied her hard, then waved toward Sam. “I falled off Sam, but I never gots hurt. You should ride Sam.”
Straightening, Jace swiped the dirt from his trousers. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Her shiver informed him otherwise. She scrambled to her feet, brushed off her skirts, and marched forward. “I’ll take my chances on my own two feet.”
There was no trail here, just a wide field of grass, so the three of them walked side by side with Sam following Jace. They crested a rise, and Jace pointed. “There’s the way station.” It lay belowthem, the roof clearly visible with smoke drifting from the chimney. Horses grazed in the pasture, resting up for their next turn pulling the stagecoach. One of them raised its head, saw the humans and the horse, and whinnied.
“It’s quite a slope. Don’t fall,” Jace warned them.
Holding firmly to her son’s hand, Dianne began the descent, sidestepping in the steepest places.
Jace stayed close at hand, prepared to catch her if she tripped.
She caught at the bushes beside her, fighting against the pull of her son. “Eddie, go slow.”
Should he reach out and help her? He lifted a hand. Then, seeing that she had things under control, he lowered it again. He huffed out air when they reached level ground. “Made it.” The words weren’t meant for her to hear, but she nodded.
“I confess I’m glad to be on level ground.”
They paused to look around. The door to the station stood open, and they made their way that direction.
A clattering came from inside. Then a muffled sound like a curse.
He touched Dianne’s arm. “Let me go ahead.” He dropped Sam’s reins over the rail and stomped up the wooden steps, giving anyone inside fair warning of his approach. The dim interior smelled like a saloon. For good reason, as the agent lay propped up in the corner, a dark-colored bottle in his hand. He took a swig and squinted at Jace in the doorway.
“Wanna a drink,” he slurred.
“No thanks.” Jace strode back to Dianne. “He’s drunk.”
She shuddered.
“You can’t wait here for the stagecoach.”
Her eyes darkened, and she looked around as if hoping to find a place to shelter.
Jace scrubbed at his neck and adjusted his hat. He couldn’t leave her here. There was no food back at the cabin. There were lots of horses in the pen, but the teams weren’t meant for riding.Besides, the stage line owners wouldn’t look kindly on someone borrowing one of their fine animals.
“Let me look around. Wait here.” He left her standing in the yard as he passed the corrals and ventured around the barn. An open lean-to was attached on one side. Beneath the roof stood a wagon covered in a layer of dust as if unused for a spell. He circled it, kicked the wheels, and checked the undercarriage. It appeared sound enough, but a wagon without horses was of no use. He wandered further. In the trees, he discovered a rail fence and, in the enclosure, two horses. Not the fine animals the stagecoach demanded. Their hooves were overgrown, but other than that, they appeared sound. They lifted their heads at his approach but ignored him which gave him hope they were gentle.
Returning to the barn, he found the harnessing.
Good, he now had a plan. He’d borrow the wagon, take Dianne and her son to the next station, which was an overnight stop. He’d been there a time or two and knew the couple who ran it to be decent folk.
In short order, he brought in the horses, hitched them to the wagon, and drove it to the dwelling.
Dianne sat on a log bench and blinked at his approach. “You’re stealing?”
