At this point, the pain was so great that Juliana would’ve gladly accepted whiskey if he’d had any. Her cheek throbbed in time with her heartbeat, and each time she opened her mouth to speak, it felt as if she was being punched all over again.
He spoke before she had a chance to respond. “It’s that bad, huh?” He dropped his head. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Then he looked at her. “I’m sorry. If I’d known—” He broke off midsentence, standing to his feet in one fluid motion. He began to pace.
“What happened with Fitzgerald? Why did he hit you?”
“You mean, what did I do to provoke him? You think I deserved this, don’t you?”
Juliana gasped when he dropped to his knees before her. “Never.” He raised his hand as if to touch her. Instead, he let it drop back to his lap. “You are not to blame for what happened.”
Staring at the man before her, she struggled to reconcile his gentle concern with the harsh intensity he’d displayed earlier in the day. Her mind flashed back to the moments before the other outlaws tumbled out of the cabin, and she remembered his reassuring words, his tender touch. Who was he, really?
“Art and I were talking,” she said softly. “Fitzgerald didn’t like it.”
His jaw hardened, his hand curling into a tight fist. “He tends to lose his temper on a whim.”
“Actually, I lost my temper first.”
“What?” Harrison’s gaze sharpened. “Why?”
“He was bullying Art. I couldn’t sit by and watch him do it when Art had done nothing wrong except befriend me.”
He said nothing. Just stared at her as if she had suddenly sprouted an extra head.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she queried at last.
“Frankly, I’m at a loss for words. I don’t know whether to compliment you or give you a good scolding. Standing up for Art was a sweet gesture, Miss O’Malley.” He cocked his head to one side. “On the other hand, it was an extremely foolish thing to do, given your situation.”
Juliana couldn’t argue with that. Still, she wasn’t sure she’d do anything differently given the chance to do it all over again. Art struck her as an impressionable young man who’d been caught up with the wrong crowd.
“He’s awfully young. How did he come to be with a gang of outlaws?”
“He’s been with them longer than I have. Nearly a year, I believe. He was a good friend of Roberts’s son, Randy.”
“Was?”
“Yeah. About a month after I arrived, Randy and his father had an argument. A very loud, very contentious argument. Rumor has it Randy wanted Fitzgerald gone, but the old man wouldn’t go for it. So Randy left.”
“Why didn’t Art go with him?”
“I can’t answer that.”
“Answer me this, then. Why are you with them?”
“Ah, that’s a story for another time,” he stood abruptly. “We need to get going.”
Her heart lurched. “Where?”
He glanced away. “Home.”
Home. How she longed to see her family, to feel their comforting arms about her. She knew instinctively it would be a long time before she felt safe again.
“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”
His expression was unreadable. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”
Juliana realized she didn’t have a choice. She didn’t like it one bit that he was in total control of her fate.
No. That wasn’t true. God was in control.
Evan appeared uncertain as he stood next to the horse, waiting for her to approach. He was obviously debating whether or not he should help her up. His behavior led her to believe he’d been taught to treat women with respect and that, despite his descent into criminal activity, he adhered to some ingrained habits.
Juliana made the decision to accept his help. Holding out her hand, she didn’t miss the way his black brows shot up as he boosted her into the saddle. After untying the reins, he swung up behind her and spoke to Lucky in encouraging tones.
At first, Juliana sat ramrod straight in the saddle. Then her shoulders began to ache. And the horse’s gait over the uneven terrain kept knocking her into Harrison. When her head bumped his chin, he curled an arm around her waist and tugged her back against him.
“Relax, Miss O’Malley.”
His low, mellow voice washed over her, and very slowly the tension left her body.
Her lids grew heavier with each swaying step, until they fluttered closed and she surrendered herself to sleep.
Relaxed now against his chest, her head tucked against his shoulder, Miss O’Malley was a warm weight in his arms. The heady scent of lavender tickled his nose. Captivated, Evan lowered his face to her hair and inhaled her sweet fragrance. He sighed. How long had it been since he’d been in the company of a female? He’d certainly never courted one.
After his parents’ sudden deaths weeks after his nineteenth birthday, he’d funneled all his energy into running the farm. His brother, James, just seventeen at the time, had put in the same grueling hours as he had. Side by side, they’d worked long and hard, determined to make a go of their father’s homestead. Then the day came that changed everything. The news of James’s murder had driven all thoughts of the future from Evan’s mind. At twenty-five, he was long past the typical marrying age. Still, settling down and starting a family seemed about as likely as a fish sprouting legs.
Evan shifted in the saddle. His neck and shoulder muscles burned from overuse, and his lower back was stiff. Knowing it was past time to give his body a break, Evan decided to stop for the night. They’d spent most of the day in the saddle or walking, and tomorrow would be no different. They both needed rest.
Heading off the trail, he searched for shelter. He settled on a protected spot tucked in the midst of a stand of mature trees. The night air was comfortable enough that he wouldn’t need to build a fire. The blankets in his bedroll would provide ample warmth.
Careful to balance Miss O’Malley’s sleeping form, Evan slid off the stocky horse’s back. It wasn’t easy, but he managed to get her off Lucky and into his arms. Stepping carefully through the low grass, he lowered her to the ground. Then he returned for the bedroll.
Tucking the thickest quilt he owned around her body, he made certain every inch of her was cocooned in the material. Crouched beside her, he paused when she began to mumble words he couldn’t quite make out.
With unsure fingers, he smoothed the silky strands away from her forehead. The action caused her to smile in her sleep, and she turned into his touch. Evan sucked in a breath. Her cheek, soft and cool, rested against his open palm. What now?
He didn’t dare move a muscle. What if she woke and found him like this?
She’d panic, that’s what!
With the steadiness of a surgeon extracting a bullet, Evan slid his hand free.
Then he bolted.
Relief flooded him when, looking back over his shoulder, he saw that she remained oblivious to her surroundings. Great. He’d avoided an awful scene. If she’d awoken to find him hovering over her, well, she surely would’ve assumed the worst.
Evan crossed the meadow and sank down at the base of a tree. The nervous energy surging through his body made him restless, edgy. Jerking off his hat, he slapped it against his thigh.
His mission