Chapter Nine
John was disappointed in himself.
He shouldn’t have held Mary like that. It was a breach of professionalism. He was a duly sworn lawman, for goodness’ sake. Deputy U.S. Marshals couldn’t just latch onto the first pretty woman they come across. Especially when that woman happened to be in their custody!
This seemed different, though. It wasn’t a usual circumstance. He could tell she was truly in distress. That hadn’t been some little act trying to garner sympathy. She’d been genuinely terrified. And he didn’t care what a woman was accused of. He wouldn’t just stand idly by and watch her suffer.
It was over now, though, so he needed to pull away.
While he still could.
As tough as he was, with that sheer stubbornness and determination that made him a damn good lawman, even he couldn’t resist such a beautiful woman forever. He feared that if he didn’t call this thing off right now, he’d fall for her.
More than he already was.
So, he stood and looked down at her.
“Worst of the storm has moved on.”
She looked up at him, her cheeks puffy and eyes red, and asked, “How long have we been in here?”
“Reckon at least two hours,” he replied. He turned his back to her and walked to the mouth of the cave. He was thankful to be looking at something else other than that gorgeous woman. Otherwise, he just wasn’t sure how much more he could take. A man can’t hold out forever.
“Still raining,” he told her. With a heavy sigh, he looked back and said, “might as well camp here for the night. Don’t look like we can do much traveling in this weather.”
“I don’t mind getting wet,” she said.
He fought back a smile and let the comment go. “I don’t, either. The rain is light. But we’re losing daylight. Besides, the trail needs to dry a bit, or we’ll just be sloshing and slipping in mud. This is as good a place as any to bunk down.” He cleared his throat and, with a bit of irritation in his voice, added, “We don’t have any bed rolls since they’re on the horses that were stolen.”
She looked a little guilty at that comment.
Good.
“Guess we’ll have to sleep on the hard ground.” He looked around and shook his head. “Reckon I’ve slept on worse. But I was younger.”
“How old are you?” she inquired.
“That’s not really any of your concern,” he stated flatly.
Part of him felt guilty for being so short with her. The response had been more for his own benefit than the desire to be unfriendly. Still feeling guilty about the way he’d held her, it was best if they didn’t get too personal from here on out.
Well, more personal than they’d already been. There was no doubt in his mind he’d already crossed a line and gotten too personal .
She didn’t say anything in response.
He sat down again, across from her. “Best we get as comfortable as possible.”
“I’m sorry, sir. This is all my fault.”
He studied her for a moment, not sure if this was an act or if she was genuinely showing contrition. The best he could tell, she was having a moment of true remorse.
“No reason to dwell on it. Won’t change the past. All we can do is learn from our mistakes and vow to do better moving forward.”
She looked into his eyes. “Is that your life’s philosophy?”
He gave it some thought for a moment. “Don’t reckon I’ve ever thought about it. Just something I’ve picked up.” He chuckled, leaned back, and rested his elbows on the cave’s stony floor, propping himself up slightly in a relaxed pose. “One time, I was tracking six men. Murderers, the whole lot of ‘em. Realized they were hiding out down in the hills around Fort Arbuckle. The smart thing would have been to go to the nearest town, send a telegram requesting more deputies, and just wait until I had some help to back me up.” He shook his head. “But I’ll be damned if I didn’t do the dumbest thing possible.”
She gasped. “You went in after them alone?”
He nodded. “Sure did. Got myself captured for my stupidity, too, and hung upside down! They figured on torturing me to death and leaving me there as an example to other deputies riding the Territory.” He chuckled again. “Anyway, as I was hanging there, lamenting my fate, I realized that it wouldn’t do me one bit of good. I couldn’t change the past. I was in the situation now . I just had to play the hand that was dealt me.”
Mary leaned forward, seemingly hanging on his every word. “So, what happened?”
He grinned. “They killed me.”
She sat there a minute before she started laughing. “No, really! What happened?”
He grinned. “I told you. They killed me. You’re talking to a ghost right now.”
She laughed some more.
After a moment, he continued. “I managed to work my hands free in the night. Took hours. Hurt like the devil, too. But then I was able to sort of bend at the waist, stretch high and reach the leather straps tied to my ankles. Long story short, I freed myself.”
“And you ran to a town and sent for help?” she asked.
He grinned wide. “Nope. I snuck around that camp, one by one, and knocked those men out while they slept. Or tried to. Some of them fought back. A gunfight ensued.” He shrugged, not needing to spell the rest out.
She seemed to understand and didn’t press him for more details. A moment later, she was yawning.
“We best get some sleep,” he said. “Might not be easy on this cave floor, but if you try hard enough, you can sleep anywhere.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
He wondered if she was going to attempt to run during the night. The odds seemed pretty low. It would be better if he could tie her hands or something, but the shackles he kept for prisoners were back on the pack horse. Thankfully, he was a light sleeper. And something told him she wasn’t the violent type.
Was he wrong about that? Was there a chance she’d wait for him to go to sleep and then clobber him over the head with a rock?
As he’d told her, he’d just have to play the hand dealt him and cross that bridge if and when he came to it.
That’s about all a man could do in life. Planning only took you so far.
Another thought hit him, and for some reason, it really bothered him. He tried to just lay down and close his eyes, but sleep wasn’t coming so easily. He let nearly twenty minutes pass. Finally, he sat up, shook out of his coat, and tossed it over to her. “Here,” he said.
“What’s this for?”
“Use it as a pillow. At least your head will have something.”
“But you need—”
He held up his hand and shook his head. “I’m fine. Again, I’ve slept in worse conditions.”
“I can’t imagine what’s worse than a hard cave floor.”
“A battlefield where people are waiting to shoot at you,” he said, not bothering to go into his experiences in the War Between the States.
It wasn’t something he wanted to revisit.
“Good night, Mary,” he said, once again hating that he was being informal and personal. There was something intimate about this all, and it felt so wrong.
But also so right.
And that’s exactly what worried him.