name.”
“All right, Jessie, you can ride with me, only you cook every other meal, understood? I don’t have time to turn around and take you back. I need to get to my wife. She’s meeting me at this little place where two streams cross. Once we come across the wagon tracks all we have to do is head south to find it. So you can come, but if you give me any trouble or slow me down, I’ll leave you out here for the coyotes.”
She nodded.
He watched her in the dying light as she struggled to take off her saddle and care for her horse. No matter how grown she thought she was, Jessie was small, about the same size he’d been when he’d found himself alone. He couldn’t help but think that for a boy it was hard, but for a little girl alone in this country it would be impossible.
Whether Jessie liked it or not, he’d find a way to help her.
The next morning she shared the bread she’d stolen from the mission with him and they were in the saddle by full light. As the days passed he learned more about her. She didn’t like to talk and hated answering questions. She didn’t know how old she was. She never remembered having a real family, just a mom for a while.
Gillian liked having someone to talk to, even if he was carrying most of the conversation. He also knew how she felt, all alone and homeless, so he gave her the only gift he could. He taught her every survival skill he knew, including how to fire a gun. She’d need them all if she planned to make it to adulthood in this country.
The morning they finally crossed the wagon tracks that served as the only road for a hundred miles, Gillian began to have the feeling that someone was watching him. Jessie must have felt it too, because she pulled her mare closer to him.
He looked back once and thought he saw a thin line of dust that one horse traveling fast might have kicked up. But nothing else. Not a sound. They were moving into open land with few hills or valleys. By tomorrow he’d see trouble coming from miles away. By tomorrow they’d be safe. If they had to, they’d leave the road and circle down, then come into the trading post from the south. Gillian didn’t like the idea that he might be leading trouble right to the place where his wife was meeting him.
The sky clouded over before dusk, and a slow rain began to fall. Jessie pointed out a place where rocks formed a rise in the earth big enough for them and their horses to take shelter. A cliff protected them from the rain, but not the wind. Without fire or anything to eat, Jessie settled in among the saddles and went to sleep.
Gillian stood guard even though he couldn’t see more than a few feet beyond the rain. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was tracking him, and he’d made enough enemies to know that if he wasn’t careful he’d be dead by dawn.
Finally, when a watery light spread across the horizon, Gillian closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall of rocks. The rain had stopped and the earth seemed newborn and silent. He was thinking of Daisy and how she wrote all her thoughts in a book every night before they went to bed. She’d had schooling, all the way to the tenth grade, and she’d said someday she wanted to teach.
The click of a gun being cocked brought him full awake. He reached for the Colt he’d left beside him.
The gun was gone.
Slowly he opened his eyes. Nate, the youngest of the Osbornes, who’d gotten away over a week ago, now stood five feet from him, a rifle pointed toward Gillian’s heart.
“You’re a hard one to track, Captain Matheson.” The outlaw grinned with teeth yellowed and broken. Nate Osborne couldn’t be out of his twenties, but he’d grown up in a rough family.
“You could have gotten away, Nate.” Gillian kept his voice low and level. “I had my hands full with the others. You could be holed up somewhere safe. Why track me?”
“Yeah, I thought I might keep going. You never would have tracked me down. But you had something of
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