“Not wholly.Besides, why put around your movements so freely, such any candiscover? Callihan’s kept his head out of the noose all theseyears, despite many looking to change that. He ain’t gonna dowhat’s expected. We’re headed to Ironwood.”
Her frown drew deeper.“Ironwood? What—where is Ironwood?”
“Town about aweek’s ride from here. If he ain’t there, those that pass theirtime there will point us right.”
Frown still deep, sheexhaled sharply. “How do you know all this?”
Pulling his hat low, heshielded his eyes. Her constant questions were beginning to annoyhim some. Why was it he’d actuallywantedher conversation?“I’m a marshal, darlin’. It’s what I do.”
“That’s whatyou said about Clementine, but you discount her information andfollow your own which, I might add, you have not offered anexplanation of how you obtained. Callihan is known to shelter inthe mountains, but you take us in the opposite direction to a townthat I’d venture to guess is not on a map and has no veracity apartfrom those that dwell there. You keep your own counsel and sharenothing. What am I to think, Mr Wade?”
He exhaled and hauledhimself up. She weren’t going to leave him alone, were she? “Halfthe job is cross-checking, Miz McElroy. I needed to know if myinformation was sound. Clementine discovered one thing. Idiscovered another.”
“How do youknow your information is correct?”
He shrugged. “Hers don’tfeel right.”
Her mouth opened but nosound came out.
He were tired of this.“You hired me because others assured you I’m good at finding thosethat don’t want to be found. My gut ain’t steered me wrong yet. ”Leaning back, he pulled his hat low. “Best to get some shut eye.We’ll start with daybreak tomorrow.”
Silence, nothing but thecrackle of the fire. Then, “I apologise, Mr Wade.
He grunted.
She exhaled. “I trustyou. I won’t question your methods again.”
Surprise filled him. Heresisted the urge to lift his hat again, to see what emotioncoloured her face in the firelight. “You’re paying me, Miz McElroy.I don’t provide subpar performance.”
“I apologiseagain, Mr Wade.” He heard rustling, as if she were getting herselfready for some shut-eye. “Good night.”
“Good night.”He laced his hands over his chest and told himself the warmth wasfrom the fire and hadn’t been sparked by her trust.
ChapterSeven
HOPE TIGHTENED THE STRAP holding her bag to the saddle,the horse placid beneath the sharp tug. It butted its nose againsther upper arm, seeking food or comfort or...or...or she didn’treally care. She had no idea about horses and less desire to learn.She shrugged her shoulder, but the horse didn’t take the hint, thewarm, broad nose continuing to nuzzle her.
Exhaling, she abandonedthe strap and the horse, glancing at the sky. The sun had brokenthrough the horizon, stretching light and warmth through mist thatyet lingered. Trees bowed over where they’d made their camp,sheltering them from the rain that had threatened the previousevening, and the faint sound of rushing water broke through theearly morning stillness, the rich earthiness of a damp forestpermeating the air.
Winding her arms aboutherself, Hope kicked at the ground. Besides tightening the saddlestraps, she’d already checked the fire was properly doused,repacked the pack containing the kitchen supplies, and rolled andre-rolled her blanket three times. The day was wasting, she wasfast running out of busy work, and Jake Wade still hadn’treturned.
How long did it take towash up? Mr Wade had been gone over forty minutes by herestimation, and she’d seen hide nor hair of him in that time. Shehad no idea what he was doing to take so long. It had barely beenlight and she’d still been mostly asleep when he’d crouched besideher to tell her he intended to bathe. She’d broke her fast alone,packed and tidied her belongings, and now she was left to await hisreturn.
Pain lodged behind hereyes and spread to her temples, matching the ache in her stomachand thighs. She’d had occasion to ride a horse in Sacramento, andshe’d ridden often before she was thirteen, but not for hours at atime and each day besides. Her body screamed at her, but shewouldendure. The work of years was close to culmination andshe could not waver now. It did not matter she was bone weary, thather muscles ached, that she felt vague. She was on the path tocollision with Callihan. Finally.
Pacing, she rubbed herupper arms. For three days they’d been headed for Ironwood, andthere was no indication the town was anywhere near. They’dencountered no other body on this trail, and Mr Wade had givenlittle hint as to how long the journey would take. He seemedcompletely unconcerned with the length of their travel and followedno course she could surmise. If it were up to her, they wouldalready be at least an hour into their journey, maybe more, and yetshe waited on Mr Wade’s return. How did they know Callihan would beat their intended destination, that this slow meander through brushand forest wouldn’t make it so they missed him before they’d evenarrived?
Water continued to rushin the distance. Her fingers bit into her biceps. She should wait.It was what a sensible person would do. Mr Wade had said repeatedlyhe knew what he was about. She had to trust him to take thelead.
Breath exploding, shestalked toward the river. Maybe it was she should wait, but nothingin her experience suggested waiting brought results. She’d achievedwhat she had by forging ahead, and she’d be damned if she acteddifferently with Mr Wade.
The trees cleared as theground sloped down, earth giving way to pebble and rock. The streamsnaked through the clearing, boughs bending as if the water hadforced its way through the brush and the trees had acquiesced, andMr Wade stood in calf-deep water, trousers rolled and lacking hisshirt.
Her breathcaught.
Water ran down his chestin lazy rivulets, catching in the light smattering of dark hairdusting his skin. His trousers hung low on his hips, intriguinggrooves bracketing the lean muscles of his abdomen. Made darker bythe water, his hair hung loose about his face, framing sharpcheekbones and a jaw darkened with stubble. He ran his handsthrough his hair, slicking it back, and she watched the play of hismuscles, her teeth biting into the corner of her lip as his biceps,his forearms, his chest, flexed; as his trousers dropped lower onhis hips.
Jacob Wadewas…beautiful.
