The Circle Eight: Caleb (15 page)

Caleb bandaged her as best he could and thankfully, she stayed out the entire time. He, on the other hand, was sweating and shaking when he finished. Too bad he didn’t have a clean shirt of his own. He did spy a few men’s shirts on hooks in the corner. They were too large for Rory so they must’ve been her dead husband’s. He wouldn’t miss them and she wouldn’t begrudge Caleb a shirt, considering her blood had ruined both of his.

Mind made up, he dumped the dirty water and rinsed out the basin and washrag. He stripped off his shirt and washed up, glad to have the dried sweat and remnants of blood off his body too. A strange sound like a squeak sounded from behind him. He swung around to find both Benjy and Rory watching him.

His brother looked wary, perhaps because of Caleb’s size. Rory’s expression was hungry. Both surprised him. He stared at them, the water dripping down his chest onto his trousers. He’d never been modest or embarrassed but he sure as hell was now.

“We’ve got to leave.” He slipped on the tattered but clean shirt from the nail. Her husband was about the same size, but the shoulders were a bit tight. Although he expected argument from her about the garment, instead she narrowed her gaze and stuck up her chin.

“I’m not leaving.”

He should have expected it but it irked him just the same. “We can’t stay here.”

“The hell I can’t. This is my home. You and Benjy can go.” She closed her eyes and turned her face away.

Caleb took his time buttoning the shirt, tamping his temper down. She was wounded and the day had not turned out like anyone planned. He had to give her a few minutes to adjust to what would happen.

He sat on the edge of the bed and breathed in deep before he spoke. “I know this is hard to accept, but Garza will be here within the next hour or two.”

“That’s not my problem.” She spoke from behind closed eyes.

“Yes, it is. You left with me, and in Garza’s eyes, both of us took Benjy. We kidnapped him.” He touched her arm and her eyes flew open. “Think about him, Rory. He has armed guards around him and out a mile from his house. If he catches us here, he will kill us and take Benjy back. If he finds you here alone, he’ll do worse to find out where Benjy is. I can’t leave you here to be raped and tortured, or worse.”

He’d seen the evil that men do up close and personal. The last thing he wanted was for Rory to find out firsthand. She might be a stubborn cuss, but she was a good person. He had a clue to her integrity as soon as he met her and she fought so hard for a scrap of land. Helping him take Benjy back solidified that opinion.

“He wouldn’t. Mr. Garza might be demanding but he isn’t a murderer.” Her tone had lost its strength.

“You know that’s not true. He might not pull the trigger, but he kills people who get in his way. He’s dirty and I’m not going to let him hurt you.” He hadn’t meant to say that last part but it was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“I, uh, thank you.” She blinked.

He needed to change the subject. “I packed supplies you’ll need.”

“My tools. The hammer and tongs with the notch on the handle were my father’s. I can’t and I won’t leave those behind.”

His brows went up. “You want to carry a hundred pounds of tools. You’re riding a mule, right?”

“Cora is a sturdy mule. Don’t doubt she has as much heart as that big quarter horse of yours.”

“Heart or not, those tools are damn heavy for any animal to carry.” He had a feeling she would not give in on the tools. They were a piece of her family and although he did all he could to avoid his for the last four years, he knew how important family was.

Finding Benjy reminded him of that fact with startling clarity. While Caleb had been out with guns on his hips and a hunger for adventure, his little brother had lived as a prisoner two hundred miles from his family’s ranch. Nothing was more important than family.

“Fine. I’ll get the tools. You can get changed.” He got to his feet when she grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Thank you.” Her eyes were too bright, but perhaps it was the lantern’s glow and not the first signs of a fever.

“Don’t thank me. You’ll be hating me after we ride hard for my family’s ranch. It’s going to be hell.” He handed her the clean shirt he’d found and turned around while she changed. He saw his brother do the same.

“I didn’t know. About Garza I mean. Or about your brother.” She sounded guilty.

“How could you? Benjy doesn’t speak and Garza sure as hell wasn’t going to tell you.” He stared down at his dusty boots, noting a few speckles of dried blood on them.

“Still, I should have realized, perhaps from Bernadette. Do you think she knows?”

“She might. Somebody has to. He couldn’t just bring a five-year-old into his house and announce he had a son without help from inside his household.” It was something Caleb would investigate after he had the two of them safe at his family’s ranch. He would investigate the hell out of Garza and his dirty dealings.

“That’s true. I still feel stupid for not realizing something was wrong.”

At this Caleb whirled around, her modesty be damned. She struggled to pull the shirt onto her left arm while keeping her right over her breasts. He took hold of the shirt and closed his eyes. She slipped it on, the fabric rustling and igniting all sorts of naughty thoughts in his head.

“Don’t blame yourself, Rory. Garza is dirty and everything he touches is tarnished. I’m glad he never did anything to harm you.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to snatch them back. He had no idea if Garza had ever done anything to her or even if they’d had a romantic relationship. That thought made him a little queasy.

“Oh he tried, but my hammer was in my hand at the time and I convinced him we had business together and nothing more.”

That made Caleb grin. “I’m beginning to like your hammer.”

She snorted. “Not if I use it against you.”

“Are you finished yet? I need to get the animals ready.” Impatience nibbled at his back along with a healthy dose of urgency.

“I’m buttoning. You can open your eyes.” She stared up at him, with those amber eyes and that face he would see in his dreams for years. How could he have ever thought her manly? She was pure feminine, without all the gewgaws and frippery that other women surrounded themselves with. Rory was genuine.

“Your bag is by the door. I’ll get the hammer and tongs for you and meet you outside. Do you think you can walk?” He frowned at the possibility she was too weak.

“I can do what I have to do. Don’t worry about me.”

His frown deepened. “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried you’ll slow us down.”

“You are still a jackass.”

He nodded. “I have to be.” He turned to leave when she spoke.

“Thank you, Ranger.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t like owing folks anything, but in this case, I owe you my thanks and my life.”

Caleb headed for the door, unwilling to accept gratitude from her. Because he had taken Benjy, he was forcing her to leave her property while she recovered from a wound. He had been obligated to evict her, but now his actions had caused her to be in danger. That rankled him and he sure as hell didn’t want her to thank him for that.

He pointed at Benjy. “Can you saddle the mule?”

Benjy shook his head. Of course not. Why would Garza teach his pretend son a real skill like saddling a horse, or in this case, a mule?

Caleb went out the door alone, in need of air and a moment to gather his thoughts. Rory tangled him up in his own feet. He had to find a way to stop thinking about that kiss, or rather, the kisses they shared. Damned if he couldn’t still taste her on his tongue hours later. How did everything get like this? On the run, a wounded woman, a mute boy, and a ranger who needed to get his head out of his ass and think.

Their lives depended on it.

Rory managed to stay in a vertical position without falling on her face. This was a feat considering her head buzzed louder than a hive of bees and her stomach rolled back and forth, threatening her with more than queasiness. She was a wreck but she also knew Caleb was right. They had to leave.

The very real threat of what Pablo Garza would do frightened her. She didn’t tell him that of course. He kept telling her how tough a blacksmith was and she wasn’t about to disabuse him of that notion. She could be tough, hell she
was
tough. Most women would have fallen to pieces the moment the ranger stepped on their property and said git.

She glanced at Benjy. He stood at her side, his solemn eyes that odd blue-green color like his brother’s.

“We need to douse the fire. Probably should take that lamp with us. It gets awful pitch black out there. We could use a light.” She shuffled toward the door, which seemed to be a hundred feet away instead of six feet. Benjy walked beside her, never touching but making sure she made it to the other side of the small cottage.

After she stopped moving, he shifted the bucket on the stove and then opened the door. She ought to stop him since he was a child and could get burned. However he sure looked like he knew what he was doing. Besides she couldn’t lift the handle of the bucket much less move the damn thing. He took a dipper full of water and dripped it onto the fire to limit the smoke. The fire slowly went out with each pass off the dipper until it was completely extinguished.

Benjy picked up the lantern and her bag and waited. She smiled weakly and opened the door. He managed to put the lantern and bag outside and then take her elbow to help her outside before she could even protest. Truth was, she leaned too much on the thin boy and she was no lightweight.

The cool night air bathed her overheated face. She was itchy and anxious and the fresh air was marvelous. Her mule, Cora, stood beside the overly large quarter horse. Her sweet brown eyes regarded the horse with unease. Rory didn’t blame her. Everything about the ranger, from his shoulders to his gun to his equine, were larger than life.

As if she’d conjured him, the ranger appeared out of the darkness with a burlap sack and two bedrolls. Judging by the weight, it held her hammer and tongs. She let out a breath of relief. There was no way she could leave that piece of her father behind. Since she couldn’t take the forge or the anvil, the tools would have to be it.

He tied the sack to Cora’s saddle along with one bedroll and then looked at his brother. “Set the lantern down and then tie the bag to the other side of the mule.”

“What about me? Do I get tied to her too?” Rory didn’t even know what she was saying but the words tumbled out of her mouth anyway.

The ranger pushed his hat back. “Are you funning with me?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt less like funning.”

“Let’s get you up on your mule.”

“Her name is Cora.”

“Of course it is. Now shut up and let me help you.”

She managed not to squeak when he picked her up and deposited her on the saddle. Cora shifted and shied away from Caleb.

“Easy girl.” Rory patted her furry neck. “We’re going for a ride and I need you to help me.”

Caleb checked his horse’s saddle, then secured he second bedroll to his. At least they would all have a blanket and some food. He spoke softly to his brother, then blew out the lantern. She was glad of the darkness. It embraced her, kept her from looking at the ashy remains of the house and smithy she had called home most of her life. A lump formed in her throat and she had difficulty swallowing the emotion behind it. Her father would understand why she was leaving and would approve of keeping safe. Yet it hurt to leave. A lot.

The two Grahams walked to the big quarter horse and within seconds, were both seated and ready to ride. The boy had the same grace as his brother. It was obviously a family trait. Rory didn’t have much grace. Instead she had a healthy dose of stubborn, muscle and sass. It was all she had and she clung to it.

She looked up at them from her perch on the mule. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going to the Circle Eight.”

Rory vaguely remembered the name but didn’t bother to ask any more questions. They started moving southeast with the moon guiding their path. Minutes blurred together and hours passed where she could only focus on staying on Cora. Her side throbbed right along with her head. At least when her hands started itching, she had something else to think about.

The night grew darker and deeper as they rode together. Cora was a good mule and she followed the horse’s path without hesitation. Rory had ridden her and used her for transporting heavier items to clients. Sturdy and strong, just like her owner. They were a match for sure.

Sweat trickled down her back and although the temperature had dropped, she was hot. Really hot. She wiped her forehead with her sleeve but it made little difference.

“Ranger.” Her voice was weak as a kitten and he didn’t hear her. “Ranger.” This time she managed to bark his name loud enough.

He pulled the horse to a stop. “What?”

“Not to interrupt your grand escape plan but I have bad news.” Rory started to shiver and knew she had little time before she wouldn’t be able to stay upright.

“Do you need to piss?” The ranger certainly had a way with women.