“What?”
He straightened, opened his eyes. It didn’t matter if she understood what he meant so he did not repeat himself. His hands slid up her back to her shoulders and then down the length of her arms. He gently disengaged her threadedfingers from behind his neck and held her wrists while he lowered her hands to her sides. “Just a wayward thought,” he said. “It’s not important.”
Laurel nodded her acceptance. She stooped, picked up his hat, and offered it to him after brushing it off.
“Thank you.” He took it back but didn’t put it on. At the moment it was safer to have one hand occupied. Call pointed over his shoulder to indicate the path behind them. “You want to go first?”
Laurel’s gaze shied away from his. “I don’t want to go at all.”
There was nothing he could say to that. She spoke for him as well.
She laughed softly, uneasily. “I thought I’d be the one with sense enough to call a halt.”
He smiled. “I thought the same.” Placing a forefinger under her chin, Call gently nudged her to meet his eyes again. “Can I admit I was depending on it?”
“Then I failed you.”
“Hardly. It was unfair.”
She didn’t disagree. “I’m all twisted up inside. You did that.”
“It’s no different for me.”
Laurel wondered if that were true, but to her knowledge he’d never lied to her so perhaps he was speaking the truth now. She wasn’t sure why that calmed her skittering heart, but it did. She stepped back.
Call’s hand hovered for a moment before he let it fall to his side. He regarded her expectantly, one eyebrow raised.
“This way,” she said. “I don’t mind leading.”
15
As far as Call was concerned, Digger Leary couldn’t return to Morrison Station soon enough. It was not in his mind that he should avoid Laurel after the kiss they’d shared at the falls, but apparently she had decided differently, and for the last seventy-two hours she had managed to be anywhere he wasn’t. Their interactions were by third party. Work assignments came to him through Rooster. At meals the potatoes could be sitting in front of him and she’d ask Hank to pass them. She asked Dillon to saddle Abby for her even though Dillon was occupied and Call was obviously between tasks.
At first he had been quietly amused, then concerned, and finally annoyed. He was hardly going to pressure her to repeat that intimacy. It was mildly insulting that she seemed to think he would.
“You two have a fight?” asked Hank. He slung Call’s saddlebag into place. Artemis stirred but accepted it. “Don’t suppose it’s my business, but I’m not alone in wondering.”
“I figured someone would ask before now,” said Call. He looked out through the open barn door. The stage box was empty. Digger and Jed Holloway were still inside the farmhouse. They’d be coming out soon and taking their positions on the stage. Call wanted to leave with them, not give chase.
The driver and shotgun had arrived the evening before,spent the night in the bunkhouse, and were rested enough to leave this morning. Call had hoped to get Digger alone and hear some answers to his thornier questions, but the man was as skillful at avoiding him as Laurel, although for what Call imagined were better reasons. Digger disappeared into town while Call had been busy, and when he returned, he stumbled into the bunkhouse and passed out. It was an opportunity missed, and rather than corner Digger in what might become a public altercation, Call let it go and began making arrangements to leave.
Laurel stood out in the yard as she always did when a stage was departing. She raised a hand to Jed and Digger, wished them well, and nodded to the passengers looking out of the stage. Call tipped his hat to her as he passed. She stood frozen, unable to return the gesture, unable to smile.
Laurel wondered what he thought about her keeping her distance. She should have explained herself rather than leave it up to him to figure out. Did he think she blamed him? If he considered it for even a moment, he’d know she blamed herself. And this was not merely about responsibility. It was about trust. He’d proven she could trust him, but she sincerely doubted she could trust herself. She had embarrassed herself, kissing him the way she had, wanting more than he was prepared to offer. She didn’t know what to do with the discomfort that was inside her. Being around McCall Landry was nearly unbearable.
Rooster sidled up to Laurel and stood shoulder to shoulder, rocking slowly on his heels. “Hell of a thing, boss,” he said quietly. “Hell of a thing.”
Laurel stared straight ahead. “You’ll have to explain that, Rooster. I’m not a mind reader.”
“Never took you for a coward. Hell of a thing, that.”
Just as if he’d slapped her, Laurel’s head snapped sideways. Her lips parted but she had no words. Shock kept her silent.
“Can’t figure it out,” said Rooster. He stopped rocking and rubbed his chin. “To my way of thinking, Call’s agood sort. Fit right in. Worked his share, sometimes more. I reckoned you thought so, too.”
“I did. Ido.”
“Uh-huh.”
