The Fire in Ember - DiAnn Mills [43]
In the blackness, she allowed one quick glance at Leah sleeping peacefully. Even though she couldn’t see the dear woman, she’d never forget her kindness. Later she’d reflect more about John and the things about him sealed in her memory. But not now when her heart wanted to stay in the warm bed beside Leah with her dreams to keep her company.
Bert snatched up her boots and tiptoed across the floor and through the kitchen. The smells of fried chicken from supper and the cinnamon apples with sweet cream wafted about the room. The homey smells of food made with love were treasures to be remembered during the lonely days ahead. Someday she’d have a home like this.
Crazy thought. Who would ever want me?
Sweeping aside her silly notions, she concentrated on what must be done. A couple of times today, she’d practiced opening the front door without making a sound. Holding her breath, she lifted the latch and crept out onto the front porch. The stars were like a million candles lighting up the dark night, and the half moon would help her find the way south beyond the 5T, beyond Rocky Falls. She didn’t like traveling at night, but what choice did she have? At least John wouldn’t be after her in the morning, and she hoped he stayed gone for a long while. However, Evan might attempt to trail her.
Rowdy nudged against her leg. She smiled. What a friendly dog. Together they stepped down from the porch and made their way to the barn. Rowdy couldn’t go with her, even if she wanted his company. The boys loved the dog, their dog, not hers. Bert stopped in front of the barn door. She could change into her britches and shirt out here, but she needed to put Rowdy in a stall.
A figure stepped in front of her. She sucked in a breath and nearly screamed.
“Just where do you think you’re going?”
John wanted to grab Bert by the shoulders and shake some sense into her head. All of his suspicions about her were true. He’d been tricked, fooled, and lied to. Angry didn’t begin to describe the fury racing through his veins. He wished she were a boy ‘cause then he’d escort him to the woodshed.
“I said, just where do you think you’re going?”
“John … I thought you were in Rocky Falls.” Her voice broke. Good. She ought to be shaking in her bare feet. “I … couldn’t sleep, so I was taking a walk.”
“Carrying your clothes?” John grabbed her shoulders. “And your boots?”
“Please — ”
“Please what? Step aside so you can run off? Steal one of my horses? Meet up with whoever’s rustlin’ cattle? What else do you have wrapped up in that bundle?”
“Nothing. Just my clothes.”
“Right. I want to take a look.”
“I have to leave.”
She was crying; he could hear her sob. But he wouldn’t back down from what he needed to do. “Why? What are you hiding? Who are you hiding from?”
“I’ve told you over and over. I can’t tell you.”
John was tempted to swear like a drunk denied another bottle. He’d been in gun fights, gotten himself beaten, gone after a gang who murdered his father and kidnapped Davis, and gone against odds alongside Bob Culpepper to uphold the law. But never had he been provoked to lose his temper like now.
“I think you’d better do some explaining, or I’m going to arrest you.”
She gasped. “For what?”
“Holding back information that could lead to finding cattle rustlers.”
“I don’t know who’s stolen the cattle.”
“What about Oberlander’s mare?”
Her silence ground at his nerves. “So what’s it going to be, Bert? Are you going to tell me about yourself, or am I forced to take you into Rocky Falls and have you face questioning again and possible arrest?”
“I haven’t broken any laws.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
“I suppose not. But it is the truth.”
“Ever spent