Free Texas Rose TH2 by Patricia Rice Page A

her head hung over his knee and she had a terrifying view of the landscape flying by beneath her.
    She closed her eyes as shots rang over their heads. The steady stream of curses Tyler had been emitting when he first grabbed her now ceased. He turned his entire attention to forcing his tired horse to outpacing the thieves. Evie clung to his nankeen trousers and attempted prayer. It was a trifle difficult when her corset was bouncing off Tyler's knee.
    The shots eventually grew farther away. As the horse stumbled and heaved, Tyler let up the pace, slowing to a walk while listening for any sign of pursuit. Finally, satisfied that their pursuers had given up the chase, Tyler halted and lowered Evie to the ground.
    With an air of surrender, she settled into the dust and bent her head to her knees, gasping for air as she tried to quiet her shaken insides.
    Tyler climbed down and watched her, but he was already cutting off the pain by closing off his emotions as he'd learned to do in prison. The stagecoach rumbling off without them caused a moment's fury, but he refused to think of Benjamin crumpling to the ground, lying still in the roadway without anyone stopping to help. To the occupants of the stagecoach, Benjamin was only a black man, less than an animal, and possibly one of the thieves to their bigoted minds.
    Tyler swore at himself for not going back to see to his friend instead of going after this miserable brat who hadn't the sense God gave a goose. But his damnable sense of Southern chivalry had reared its ugly head, and he had gone to rescue the lady rather than help the friend who had stood beside him since childhood.
    It didn't make sense. But life would never make sense. He knew that; he just had to remember it at times like these. Watching Evie gulping back tears and terror, Tyler let his mind travel to the next thing to be done if they were to survive this situation. The sun was sinking toward the horizon. They would have to find shelter and water. His horse couldn't travel much farther, particularly with two riders.
    He wanted to go back for Benjamin, but practicality told him he had to get Evie settled and his horse watered before he could do anything. He scanned the horizon in all directions, seeing nothing habitable. But a stand of trees toward the west spoke of water.
    He held a hand out to Evie. "Come on, we've got to get going."
    She didn't look at him. She didn't take his hand, either. She caught up her skirts and rose, somewhat shakily perhaps, but she hid that well as she dusted herself off.
    Without a word of question, she followed as Tyler led the horse toward the trees. She knew he was furious with her. She didn't even need to see the set lines of his jaw to know that. She could see the knots of tension in his shoulders, the way he strode with his back straight and turned to her. She had learned to read other people by watching the way they moved. Tyler was bordering on irrational, and she tried not to be afraid. Heroines were never afraid. The heroes always got them out of these situations. Hadn't Tyler just saved her from the outlaws? Who was going to save her from Tyler?
    A dilapidated cabin sat among the skinny trunks of oaks someone had obviously planted to keep the house cool. No smoke came from its one chimney. No reply came after Tyler's yell of greeting.
    They found a crude well in the side yard and drew up water for the horse. With no dipper in sight, Tyler cupped his hands and dipped some of the muddy liquid for himself. Evie watched him and attempted to repeat the motion, but she succeeded mostly in splattering her gabardine bodice. Getting enough water to quench her parched lips, she gave up the attempt and walked toward the cabin.
    Tyler was ahead of her, holding her back with his hand as he knocked, then threw open the door. The interior smelled musty and unused, and a rustle in the darkness warned the inhabitants weren't human.
    Stamping his boots to scare off any other intruders, Tyler