Love on the Line - Deeanne Gist [130]
“You know what this is gonna do to my pa?” Duane asked. “I’m the only son he’s got.”
Georgie arrived with the hack, wind playing with her hair, a look of determination on her face.
“I’m guessing your pa has a pretty good idea already of what you’ve been up to.” Luke nudged the men toward the bed. “All’s not lost, though. You’ve plenty of years left. When you get out, you can start all over. Find you some good, honest friends. A nice God-fearing woman. And this time around, don’t let worldly gain rob you of true prosperity.”
Blesinger climbed into the hack, Duane behind him. Luke cuffed their hands.
“Do ya have all that?” Duane asked, watching as Luke secured him and Blesinger to a chain bolted inside the cart. “Do ya have good, honest friends? A God-fearin’ woman? True prosperity?”
Luke didn’t know what to say. Especially since the answer to every question was no. His gaze lifted briefly to Georgie’s, her eyes offering sympathy and love.
Swallowing, he returned his attention to Duane. “Truth is, my job doesn’t give me much of a chance for all that. I spend my days and nights crisscrossing the state with nothing but my horse, my saddle, and my guns. Folks like to glamorize the life of us Rangers, but it can get awfully lonely.”
“Then, why do ya do it?”
“It’s an important service, and up to now I’ve been happy to provide it. But here lately I’ve been asking myself the same questions you just did.”
“Maybe ya need a fresh start, too.”
Luke squeezed his shoulder. “Maybe I do, Duane. Maybe I do.”
Returning to Honey Dew, he mounted and glanced at Georgie. “Let’s go.”
She turned the wagon north. Resting his wrists against the pommel, Luke kept his eyes moving, but nothing seemed amiss. Birds fluttered from tree to tree. Squirrels played tag. A rabbit froze, then bounced out of sight.
The fellows remained quiet, their morose expressions and slumped postures in stark contrast to the quiet beauty of the new dawn.
When they were two hundred yards from Necker’s place, he had Georgie pull to a stop. Climbing onto the seat beside her, he retrieved Blesinger’s gun, then went through the procedure for loading and firing it.
Blesinger’s eyes widened. “She’s never used a pistol before?”
“ ’Fraid not,” Luke said with a shake of his head.
Blesinger swore.
More alarm than Duane had exhibited all morning filled his eyes. “Well, don’t let her point it at me!”
“Watch your language, Ludwig,” Luke said. Giving Georgie the gun, he fitted his hand over hers and helped her cock it. “It’s in firing position now. If they make any attempt to leave, just squeeze this lever. If you feel like you didn’t slow them down enough, pull the hammer back and squeeze again. That ought to do it.”
She nodded. “I’ve got it. Hammer back. Squeeze trigger.”
“Yep. And it’s best if you keep your eyes open.”
“For the love of—”
“Language.” Luke gave Blesinger another look of warning, then jumped to the ground. “Try to quit trembling, Georgie. Those triggers are pretty sensitive.”
She held the gun with both hands. “I’m just a little nervous, is all.”
He scratched his neck. “You might not want to make any sudden moves, fellas.”
“Ya cain’t think to leave her with that thing,” Duane pleaded. “What if her nose gets a tickle and she sneezes or somethin’?”
“Then I suggest you duck.”
Blesinger clenched his jaw. “At least bring her a couple of pillows when you come back. That gun gets awfully heavy. If she had something to rest her wrists on, she’d be a mite more steady.”
“I’ll do that.”
Luke withdrew his Winchester from the scabbard attached to his saddle. It was early yet and everything was still. He knew from the mouse episode Necker was a sound sleeper, but he didn’t linger. At this time of morning, the whinny of the horses might be all it took to rouse him and his wife.
He made a quick sweep of the perimeter to ensure they were in the bedroom, cocked the rifle, then pushed open the door. The bedroom was straight ahead.
Necker’s wife, a pretty little thing with huge brown eyes and curly brown hair, sat