“You looked like a monster the way the lamp flared on your face.” She gave a brief, humorless chuckle.
“Thanks.” He’d about had his fill of insults.
“Well, it’s true. You scared her whether you meant to or not.”
“Whether?” His frustrations of the day were about to boil over. “You think I might have intended to frighten her? What kind of a man do you take me for?” He held up one hand. “Don’t tell me. I don’t think I want to hear.”
“Good, because I don’t want to say something I might regret.”
He snorted. Not something he usually did around ladies. But seeing as she wasn’t acting like a lady, he didn’t think it counted. “Do you mean to say you sometimes regret what you say?” He expected she caught the way he emphasized sometimes and the way doubt dripped from his voice, but he was beyond caring what he said to this woman.
“Not often.” She gave him a look of pure defiance. “Now are we going to look for Belle or not?” She stomped away without waiting for his reply.
Great. Now the pair of them was going to wander around in the dark. If he’d known how much aggravation they would turn out to be...
Who was he fooling? He would still have done the same thing. He would have rescued Red even if she accused him of kidnapping. He would have followed her back to the saloon, confronted Thorton and, yes, offered them his cabin. Having her in Eddie’s cabin suited him even better. He’d be able to make sure she and Belle were safe.
He’d not done well on that front so far.
He had to find Belle. Chasing after her would serve no purpose. She’d just hide. But he recalled she’d complained of hunger. “I have an idea.”
“I hope it’s better than your last one.”
He wondered which idea that was, because so far he thought his ideas had been good. “What idea do you mean?”
“Holding the lamp to your face and scaring a little girl half to death.”
“That wasn’t— I didn’t— Oh, what’s the use? You’re determined to twist every word and action of mine into some sort of attack.”
She stepped back into the circle of light to glower at him. “I most certainly do not.”
“Uh-huh, you do. Now can you keep quiet long enough to hear my plan?” He paused for good measure. “Unless you’ve thought of one?”
Her glower deepened as she was forced to acknowledge she had not. “Go ahead. Talk.”
He chuckled. “Knew you wouldn’t admit you had no plan.”
“You gonna tell me this wonderful plan or flap your jaws?”
He grinned at her. “Like I asked before, you ever lose an argument? No, wait. What I mean—” He leaned closer until they were almost nose to nose. “Do you ever admit it?” The lamplight reflected in her eyes, filling them with something he hadn’t seen before—wasn’t sure what to call it. Perhaps fear. Or loneliness? Even though it was barely a shadow, hardly a hint, he knew it was there, and knowing, all resentment left him.
He straightened. “Belle is hungry.”
“So what? We’ve been hungry before. Expect we will be again.”
He decided it wise to refrain from saying they would not go hungry while they lived in this cabin. “I’m going to build a nice fire over there.” He pointed to where Eddie had dug a fire pit, lined it with rocks and placed logs around it at a safe distance to use as benches. “And start cooking up a meal. I’m guessing she’ll soon come out of hiding when she smells the great food I cook.” He grinned, meaning it as teasing. After all, he was a cowboy and only cooked out of necessity, and even then it was the simplest of fare. But at the way her eyes widened and the loudness of her swallow, he guessed she was as hungry as Belle. Right then and there he vowed to make the best meal he’d ever made.
He led the way to the fire pit and soon had a roaring fire going. Red reached out her hands to the flames. For the first time he considered she wore only a brown dress. Belle had on a shapeless gray thing that had seen better days. That observation coming from a cowboy who spent weeks in the same clothes indicated a large degree of wear and tear. Good thing he could count on Linette to help him on that score.
“You stay here. Maybe she’ll come back when I leave.”
Red’s gaze jerked from staring at the flames to look at him. “You’re going?”
“Just to get supplies.”
He dashed across the road to the cookhouse. “Cookie, quick, lend me a bottle of that meat you put up.”
Cookie crossed her arms and looked at him like he’d suddenly sprung a second head. “What for? My cooking not good enough for you?”
He jerked to a halt and swallowed hard. He had no desire to offend Cookie. “I’ve got two hungry females over there.” He gave a wave in the general direction of the cabin.
“Didn’t the boss send you out to bring back his horse and saddle? Instead, you come back with two women?” She sniffed her disdain.
“The horse and saddle are in the barn. Red and her sister are going to stay in the cabin.”
“A horse thief! Whose idea was that?”
“Linette’s.”
Cookie’s scowl disappeared in a wreath of confusion.
“They understand why she had to do it.” As quickly as he could, Ward explained how Red had to rescue her little sister. “And now she’s out in the trees, hiding in fear.” Before he finished, Cookie started filling a basket with jars of meat, bottles of preserved vegetables, fresh produce and some biscuits.
“You tell her to come over in the morning and I’ll have freshly baked cinnamon rolls.”
“I’ll tell her.” He grabbed the supplies and hurried back to the cabin. He dumped meat and vegetables into a cast-iron pot. As he worked, he thought of how Red looked and sounded scared when he said he was going. She’d unwittingly allowed him to see that she liked having him there, though she would deny it with every breath she had. Not that he intended to mention it. He would simply accept it as a step forward. Balancing the lamp in one hand and the makings of a meal in the other, he made his way back to the fire. No one sat beside Red or anywhere around the fire. “She hasn’t come back yet?”
Red shook her head. “Belle?” she called. “Come on, honey. It’s nice and warm here.”
“She do this often?” Ward asked as he fashioned a spit over the fire and hung the pot. He dug a hole nearby and dropped in several hot stones, put a pan of potatoes still in their jackets on top and left them to bake.
“Do what often?” He doubted Red tried to keep the challenge out of her voice.
“Run away.”
“Did you see the little room in the saloon? Well, that’s where she’s spent the last four months. Apart from when Thorton thought to take us out for a walk, and he made plenty sure to hold tight to her hand. So, no, she doesn’t do this often.”
“I’m sorry. I never realized, though I suppose I should have.” He’d seen the little room, even noticed how the window was barred, allowing only slits of light to enter. “She’ll have lots of chance to roam free out here.”
“Hope she doesn’t get lost.”
Ward thought it best to not echo his worry along the same line. After a bit the stew bubbled, and he moved it down the spit to simmer while the potatoes cooked. The smell of food was enough to flood his mouth with saliva. He’d eaten a