Chapter 8 #3
Owen said, “He held up well today. I reckon the food and the warmth of the fire and the long day caught up with him.”
Delaney turned to see Owen leaning forward, looking across her to study Boone. Owen’s shoulder pressed against hers. Then his eyes shifted, and their gazes held. She remembered how he’d held her when she’d cried, the alluring combination of his strength and kindness.
“It’s been a long, hard day for all of us.” She wished she could burst into tears, so he’d be forced to hold her again.
A small, private smile curved his lips, as if he knew just what she was thinking. And as if, maybe, he wouldn’t mind holding her again, tears or not.
Morgan and Tex headed toward the prisoners. Marley had fallen asleep. Roz and Jesse got up and disappeared into their cabin. Suddenly, instead of there being a crowd, she and Owen sat side by side, alone together in front of the crackling fire—not counting the ones who were sleeping.
“What am I going to do about you, Delaney?”
She wished she had the courage to tell him what she’d like him to do. But she most certainly would not ask for a kiss.
“Roz seems to think she knows how to get to town from here.” She managed to change the subject. “But if she hasn’t gone to town since before Jesse was born, well, I hope her memory is good.”
“Morgan has confidence in her, but he said he wandered this land as a youth and never noticed a trail. If there is one, it’ll be more like what we’ve ridden through to get to Morgan’s cabin than to get to Roz’s.”
“It’s hard to imagine that there’s a way through these mountains. But so far we’ve gotten through somehow. Nothing about it will be easy.”
“You’ve done well, Delaney. As well as any of us.”
“I might have made it harder if I’d gotten shot.”
A gasp had Owen clasping her hand. “Don’t say that. I couldn’t stand it if you were hurt. I’m supposed to be leading this group, and I’ve failed as badly as anyone could. Adding you being hurt would be unbearable.”
Delaney closed her own hand over his. “You saw your Marshal friend die. You saw Marley shot, Tex too. I saw Boone hit so hard I feared he was dead. However you felt about all of that, you kept going. You didn’t turn killing mean and attack the Duncans.
” Delaney remembered that Owen had stopped Morgan when he’d been about to do that very thing.
“You’d hold up. I-I guess so would I, although thinking of Boone, it would have broken something inside me if he’d died.
I might’ve wanted to attack as much as Morgan did.
I was furious at first, but Boone needed me. That’s a good thing.”
Owen managed to let go of the awful tension she’d felt when he’d gripped her hand.
He sat back, breaking that spell, whatever it had been.
Not just the spell when he’d reacted to her speaking of possibly being shot, but also the tension when they’d looked at each other and remembered when they’d been in each other’s arms.
Delaney appreciated him leaning back and regretted it at the same time.
“I live a rootless life, Delaney. And I’ve lived it for years. It’s gotten to be a habit.”
“An interesting statement. Why do you bring it up now?”
He looked back at her and didn’t speak for a moment. At last he said, “You know why.”
It made her more than a little nervous to think she probably did. But it was more than she could speak of out loud. “Is it your plan to stay with this life forever, Mr. U.S. Marshal?”
The snippy tone got another smile out of him. “I haven’t given it much thought. Never had a reason to.”
“And now?”
“And now I’m giving it some thought.” Owen ran a rough, callused finger down her cheek, then shoved himself to his feet and walked toward his fellow Marshals.
Beside her, Boone said quietly, “Mind yourself, Delaney.”
Boone hadn’t been so deeply asleep as they’d thought.
She turned to him. Her big brother, her best friend.
He said, “We’ve got trouble coming and need to be on our guard. Not much time for nonsense.”
Nodding, she said, “Go get more comfortable. Your blanket’s rolled out.”
Apparently thinking he’d said his piece, Boone shoved himself to his feet much like Owen had, except Boone groaned while he did it.
Delaney didn’t tell him, but she didn’t think anything of what she’d just felt over Owen Riley was nonsense. And she’d be alert regardless of an attraction to a handsome Marshal who was giving his rootless life some thought.
She headed for her own blankets near Boone just as she heard Owen say to Morgan and Tex, “Let’s post a guard over the prisoners and at our backs.” Owen headed back toward the firelight, leaving Tex behind to keep watch on the Duncans.
Morgan said quietly, “I’ll cover the back trail for the first watch. Boone, are you up to taking a turn?”
“Yep, I’ll stand second watch on the trail.”
“I’ll do second with the prisoners,” Marley said from where he slept, another light sleeper. Delaney wondered what Marley had heard of her earlier conversation with Owen.
The men worked it out between them. Delaney should have insisted she take a turn, but she knew without asking that they wouldn’t let her, even though they admitted she’d handle the job well. But she trusted them, so she’d get some sleep and help get things moving early in the morning.
As she lay on her bedroll, she said a prayer for Boone and for the group’s safety during the journey ahead, for lonely Roz and lively little Jesse.
And for her parents, if they were searching for their missing children.
And for Marley’s healing, and Owen . . .
plenty to pray about over him. Oh, she could pray for hours and not cover all their needs, but exhaustion caught up with her before she could finish it all.