The Prospect: The Malloy Family, Book 10 (22 page)

Here they were, somewhere under a blanket of stars so thick and deep they seemed to go on forever. It was as if they were in a dark room and someone had poked billions of pinholes in the walls, just enough for light to come through. The stars winked and sparkled in the blackness, giving him the idea someone was up there sending him a message. What that message was, he could only guess.

Jo started to snore, and he had to slap his hand over his mouth to smother a chuckle. It was a ladylike snore, soft and wheezy. It made him want to wake her up and make love to her all over again. Yet she was still recovering from being sick, nearly drowning and running for her life. She’d made a fire quickly using a couple of rocks, explaining that the sparks flew when they clapped together. The horse followed her around like a lovesick fool too.

He stuck his nose in her hair and breathed deep. She smelled faintly of flowers, of earth and of that unique scent that was Josephine. He drifted off into a restless sleep holding the woman who held his heart.

Sometime later, when the gray light of dawn bathed the sky, Declan awoke in an instant. The fire had long since burned down to a smoldering pile and the cool dew had settled on them. He strained to hear what had awoken him.

A shuffling in the grass there, to the left. He eased out from beneath Jo’s body and got to his knees, gun already in his hand. Declan would be damned if he let any animal hurt his woman again. Seconds ticked by, sweat trickled down his back, his hand tightened around the gun. He could count his heartbeat in the stillness of the morning.

There it was again. He crept forward silently, making use of the tall grass to hide his progress. The sound grew louder, more pronounced. Behind him, Jo murmured, but he ignored her, intent on finding whatever it was before it found them.

A ball of fur burst through the grass and landed on him, licking at his face until he grabbed it by the nape and held it at arm’s length.

A goddamn dog.

“What is it? What is happening?” Jo stomped toward him. “It sounds as though… Leon? Is that you?”

The dog wagged its ugly tail in greeting. Jo knew this filthy mutt?

“Let him go, Declan. This dog belongs to my sister.” She knelt beside him and scratched the dog behind the ears, much to its canine delight.

Declan gladly let it go. The thing probably had fleas and left the sour taste of dog on his face. He had all he could do not to spit. Instead he rubbed his face with his sleeve, ridding himself of most of the slobber.

“Leon,
pour quoi sont vous ici
? Hm?
Où est Francesca
?”

He’d never heard her speak French before, but it did strange things to his equilibrium. It was the most arousing thing he’d ever encountered. Holy hell.

“We must be close to their ranch if Leon is out here. Perhaps he can lead us there.” She got to her feet and threw her arms around Declan’s neck. “We made it!”

“Not yet, lass. We still need to get there, and don’t forget Drummond and Parker are unaccounted for.” He hated to see the light dim in her pretty brown eyes, but they needed to remember it wasn’t over yet.

“You are correct, of course. I was so happy to see Leon.” She kissed him hard, then turned back to the dog before he could do more than be surprised. “We should eat and get moving. Leon can lead us.”

Declan wanted to do more than let Leon lead them, but he didn’t want to wish the mutt away. She was right—the dog could lead them to Malloy. It could also lead them in circles. It was better than following along blindly hoping they would stumble onto the right path. Declan swore he would learn how to navigate this land, no matter what.

After a pitiful breakfast of berries and some kind of leaves Jo swore weren’t poisonous but tasted like they were, the hodgepodge group set off. The dog kept an eye on the big horse while Declan walked beside it.

“
Prenez-nous à Francesca
, Leon,” Jo called happily from her perch on Apollo. “Take us to my sister!”

Declan’s stomach gnawed at his backbone while his feet groaned with another day of running beside the great beast. He hoped they were closer than the estimated twenty miles. Given the dog was not very big, he couldn’t have wandered too far from his mistress. Although his fur was raggedy, the dog was well fed, so he hadn’t been away from the Malloys long.

The morning passed quickly, the dog bounding to the left and right, then returning to run beside him. It was an odd critter, with eyes that almost poked into his soul, deep and disconcerting.

The sun rose high in the sky, bringing with it the summer’s heat. The clouds kept it away some days but not today. No, not when Declan was hauling his carcass across uneven ground inches away from breaking something. Sweat poured down his skin, making his eyes sting and his mood foul. If the damn dog was leading them nowhere, he would wring its scrawny neck.

“We are no longer following the river. It ended, so I assume Miss Sam’s instructions were accurate.” Jo shaded her eyes and looked again. Neither one of them had a hat anymore, just to make their situation worse. No protection from the sun at all. Damn river had taken every bit of what they had, leaving them with only enough not to starve.

The dog barked and ran ahead, a brown blur of fur streaking across the ground. Declan swung up onto the horse behind Jo and spurred Apollo into motion.

“Don’t lose that dog!” he shouted. They raced along behind the barking critter, which was surprisingly fast as hell.

Jo leaned into the wind, giving Declan a clear view of the land ahead. The dog disappeared into tall grass, his head popping into view every few seconds. Declan kept his eye where he last saw it and kept riding in a straight line hoping like hell the thing would reappear.

“There he is.” Jo pointed to the right where the dog was happily jumping up and down in front of John Malloy. “I can’t believe we found them.”

Declan was glad to see the man, but not to see the rifle he had up against his shoulder pointed right at them. He slowed the horse to a trot then jumped down, taking the horse’s reins.

“John!” Jo waved her arms as she leaned forward on Apollo as far as she could without falling off.

Malloy lifted his head and the nose of the rifle dropped. He likely couldn’t see Declan yet and he sure as hell didn’t want his head blown off. No doubt the other man was used to not trusting strangers to appeared on his land, as well he should be. Declan walked the horse toward him, giving the man plenty of time to see who they were. The last thing they needed was to get shot.

As they drew closer, Malloy dropped the gun altogether. “Jo?”

“Yes, it is Josephine!” She glanced down at Declan. “Can you help me down?”

Against his better judgment, he pulled her off Apollo’s back. She winced as her feet hit the ground, but she smiled at him.

“I am so thrilled we found them.” To his surprise, she kissed him hard and then turned to run toward John.

Declan followed her at a slower pace, intrigued to see how John and Francesca would take the news of their fake marriage. His heart grew heavier with each step. He had known a day of reckoning would come, when their happy but false life would end. That day had come.

Josephine smiled broader than she had in her life. Seeing her brother-in-law made her giddy with happiness. After all she and Declan had been through over the last month, it was amazing they had found her family.

“What the hell are you doing here, Jo?” John pushed back his hat. “And what are you doing with Callahan?”

Declan walked up behind him with the horse. The dog jumped around in circles, barking happily.

“Shut up, Leon.” John did not use the French pronunciation of the dog’s name. It made Josephine smile wider.

“Are we near your home? I have missed Francesca so much!” Jo looked at the horizon but saw no buildings.

“Before we go anywhere, I’m gonna hear this story.” John nodded to Declan. “I asked you to look after my wife’s family, not kidnap one of ’em and drag them halfway across the Wyoming territory.”

“It is not like that, John. Declan saved my life more than once. Besides, he is nearly my husband.” She held up her hands. “It is a long story and it starts because I grew sick.”

John’s jaw tightened. “Then we best get back to your sister and sort this mess out.” He jabbed a finger into Declan’s chest. “And you’d best have a good goddamn story to tell.”

Jo looked between them. She didn’t understand the male creature and its need to posture around others. It was part of the anthropology of man, yet she hadn’t spent enough time studying it. Now she had to muddle her way through—not her preferred method.

“How far are we from your home?” Jo was anxious to see her sister, to eat hot food and to wash the layers of dirt from her body. It was selfish, but she couldn’t help the thoughts.

“About five miles or so. Leon and I were hunting and we followed the trail of a buck. It’s dumb luck we were even here.” John’s blue gaze bored into hers. She had a feeling he was full of questions and she wasn’t sure she had the answers he expected to hear. “You have one horse, without a saddle?”

“We lost the gray gelding to a wolf.” Declan patted Apollo’s neck. “Bought this one along the way.”

“A wolf? Jesus Christ. We’d best be on our way so you don’t have to tell the story more than once.” John turned and started walking away. “My horse is over yonder in the trees. Let’s move.”

Jo struggled to keep up with her brother-in-law as he stomped across the ground. Declan mumbled behind her, the big bay following. The dog jumped around, chasing bugs and field mice. The only sound was their feet and hooves hitting the ground. The silence was uncomfortable and Jo’s happiness waned.

They arrived at John’s horse and he jammed the rifle into the scabbard hanging off the saddle. He frowned at Jo again. “You planning on riding that horse or walking it like the dog?”

Declan snorted. Jo glared at him. “I will ride Apollo.” She kept her head high as she approached the horse. She knew she needed help to mount, but she was loath to ask. She wished there were a rock or something similar she could use as a mounting device.

Before she could swallow her pride and ask for help, Declan threw her onto the blanket and then swung up behind her. He surrounded her, immersing her in sharp need. Her body knew his now, at the basest level. All it took was a simple touch and she turned into a puddle of feminine foolishness.

John barely glanced at them before he rode off on his horse, leaving them to follow at the brisk pace he set. Jo gritted her teeth and held onto Apollo’s mane. Echoes of her discomfort and their mad run from the wolf exploded through her at each jarring motion of the horse. She closed her eyes and held on to the notion she would see her sister soon. There was no one and nothing chasing them, yet still they rode hard.

She didn’t blame her brother-in-law for his speed. If they had arrived at the wagon train filthy, bedraggled and telling stories of wolves, Josephine would have a hard time believing such a fantastical tale. She wouldn’t have believed it herself if she hadn’t lived through it.

Strands of her hair had come loose from her bun and flew around her face, tickling and getting caught beneath her spectacles. Her eyes watered and she blinked hard, telling herself it was irritation. She was not breaking down and being emotional. Jo never did and she couldn’t start now.

They rode east. The sun’s rays threw golden splashes on the ground, as though they followed Leon. A flock of birds burst from a bush, soaring into the bright sky.

She tried to remember what life was like in New York before they left to go West. Walking in the brisk winter air, the sound of her boots on the cobblestones, climbing the steps into their modest home or the smell of her mother’s cooking when she came home. Did she miss all of that or had the West taken the place of all those memories?

The West had brought her Declan, the discovery of her courage, the amazing experience of the wilderness, and best of all, the idea she was more than a book-learned governess. So much more. She wouldn’t have traded a moment of it for anything.

Jo saw the chimney smoke first, rising above the trees. Her heart leapt in excitement as the small cabin came into view. Behind the building were a large barn and a corral. The wood used on the structures gleamed with newness, the knotholes dark against the lighter wood surrounding it. Leon bounded ahead, barking and hopping as he approached the house.

Francesca emerged from the house carrying a basket on her arm. The dog danced around her. A braid lay on her shoulder, the sunlight bouncing off the reddish highlights. “I wondered if you had gone to find—” She stopped in mid-sentence and her mouth dropped open. Jo smiled at her sister.

“
Bonsoir
,
soeur
.”

“Josephine?
Merde! Ce qui est vous en faisant ici
?” Frankie picked up her skirt and ran toward them. “Are Maman and Papa well? What has happened? Why are you with Monsieur Callahan?”

John dismounted and pulled Jo out of the saddle. He made a chuffing sound as he set her on the ground. “You’re skin and bones, Jo.”

“Maman and Papa are fine. I have a long story to tell and an explanation for everything.” Jo took a deep breath but found her throat was too tight to do more than wheeze. “At this moment, I need to hug my sister.”