chair, carrying one of the newspapers under her arm, walking blindly toward the door. The last time she had visited her mother—it had been nearly a year now—Olivia hadn’t even known her. The woman’s mental state was such that she could only stare vacantly; she did not feed herself, she did not speak, she did not react to the speech of others. How could Olivia survive outside that clean hospital with its kindly staff?
“Hurry,” prompted Derora, and Tess stepped out of the car and onto the little wrought iron porch. It was dark now, and frogs and crickets were singing their spring time songs.
Tess went to the stable, wheeled her bicycle out, put the newspaper into the wicker basket affixed to the handlebars. Send a message. She was to knock at the door of the telegraph office until someone answered, and then she was to send a message ….
There were tears pouring down her face by the time she reached the moonlit road. Perhaps that was why Tess went the wrong way, why she headed out of town, not toward the telegraph office, but in the direction of the peddler’s camp.
It was very late and he was sitting by the campfire, just staring into the flames, his bowler hat at his side.
“Mr. Corbin?”
Broad shoulders stiffened, he turned his head swiftly.Was it Tess’s unexpected appearance that jolted him that way, or was it the sound of his real name? She didn’t know, didn’t care.
Instantly, Joel—no, she must remember that he was Keith, not Joel—was on his feet, towering over Tess, his whole body tense. Wary. “What are you doing here?” he bit out, and she couldn’t tell whether he was angry or just surprised.
The tears she had managed to control during the ride out mto the country—of which she had almost no memory—were sliding down her face again as she extended the newspaper. “Read for yourself.”
Keith took the tabloid and bent closer to the firelight, in order to scan the large advertisement. A hoarse swear word was his comment.
“My aunt sent me to w-wire your family. She wants the m-money ….”
He stood very still. “And you double-crossed her. For me. Why did you do that, Tess?”
Tess dashed at one of her cheeks, but the gesture did little good, for the tears kept coming. “I don’t know,” she said, finally. “God help me, I don’t know. My mother—my poor mother—”
Keith drew her close, held her as though she were a child. “What about your mother, shoebutton?” he asked. “What about her?”
Tess could not give an answer.
Chapter Five
I T TOOK ONLY MINUTES TO GATHER UP THE POT AND KETTLE he’d used to prepare his supper, to hitch the mule to his wagon, to put out the campfire. During those minutes, Keith Corbin damned the two brothers he would have died for. Good God, why didn’t they just leave him alone? They were both intelligent men; surely they knew that when he was ready, he would come back.
He paused, aware of Tess, more aware of her, in fact, than he had ever been of any other woman. She was standing beside the wagon, watching him, the bright moonlight giving her a luminous, angelic appearance.
“I want to go with you,” she said.
Keith had been checking the mule’s harness; the warm, dusty hide of the beast rippled beneath the palms of his hands. “No.”
“I can’t go back,” she insisted. “Aunt Derora wants that reward money. Once she knows that I’ve betrayed her, she’ll throw me out. I won’t have a job. My mother—my mother will—”
Keith turned to face the urchin-child squarely, again silently cursing his brothers. For two cents, he’d let them find him. And when they did, he’d break their necks.
A half-smile curved his lips. It would serve Adam and Jeff right if they paid five thousand dollars to have their asses kicked. “Tell me about your mother,” he said aloud.
Tess had managed to regain her composure; her shoulders were straight, her chin high. She hadn’t worn any kind of wrap over her calico dress, and she
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia