He glanced down at her. The top of her head barely reached his chin.
“Tell me what needs to be done first,” she said.
He untied a coil of rope from his saddle horn. “You’re bleeding. We need to stitch you up.”
“No. I’m fine.” With her thumb she swiped at the blood trailing down her temple and smeared it on her skirt. “The next thing.”
She was pale, and she’d taken a hell of a hit against the side of her face. The gash on her temple looked nasty. But neither was life threatening. She was anxious to get moving. Jeb decided not to push the issue.
“Get the horses,” he said. It was the easiest of the jobs for her. “We’ll need them to get the wagon back on its wheels.”
She nodded and began walking toward the river.
“Then find a sturdy branch,” he called after her. “Strong enough for a splint.”
Her hand lifted, acknowledging his command without turning. She broke into a run, her urgency a tangible thing.
An urgency Jeb was beginning to feel, too.
He could only hope she understood all that lay ahead for them.
Dusk had nearly settled by the time they finished. The wagon sat on all four wheels again. The team was harnessed and ready to go. The old man lay on a cot on the ground, resting comfortably enough, his leg set and strapped to a splint.
But then, Elena had given him a generous dose of Doc Charlie’s Miraculous Herbal Compound. Jeb figured the man was pretty much numb from it.
She hovered over him, fussing, as much for his sake as her own. But the old man couldn’t be in better hands than Creed’s. He’d promised Elena he’d drive all night to San Antonio, that once they rode out of the woods and got back onto the main road, the trip wouldn’t take long. He even offered to send word to the rest of the troupe explaining what happened. His sincerity went a long way in appeasing her.
“You’re sure about all this?” Creed asked in a low voice.
“She can’t go hunting for those men alone,” Jeb said grimly. “I’ll catch up with you in California later. See that the old man is taken care of before you board that train. Find him a good surgeon to take out the bullet.”
“I will.” Creed hesitated. “Lieutenant Colonel Kingston will want to know what happened here.”
Hell, he should know. Jeb hoped the officer and his superiors ordered the whole United States Army to war against the revolutionaries.
“Report the incident. Just keep my name out of it,” he said.
“The General will find out sooner or later,” Creed said.
“Not if I can help it.”
“You ever going to reconcile with him, Jeb?” he demanded. “Now might be as good a time as any.”
Jeb glared. Creed knew better than to even suggest it.
“Well, you’re taking a hell of a chance going after the rebels,” Creed went on, glaring back. “With a civilian, no less. And a woman at that.”
Jeb heard his worry. It wasn’t often he and Creed disagreed. “You have a better plan?”
“Go back to Laredo. Find Kingston. Enlist his help.”
Jeb considered Elena. Her baby. The hours already gone.
“No,” he said. “There’s no time.”
“You’d both be safer.”
“Going to Kingston first would be the smart thing to do,” Jeb conceded. Not that Elena would have agreed to it. His mouth quirked. “But then, when have I ever done the smart thing?”
“Damn, you’re stubborn,” Creed said, shaking his head.
Jeb grunted. That had gotten him into trouble more times than he cared to count.
He glanced at the sky. He wanted to see Creed on his way before it got dark. And they still had to load the old man into the wagon. He pulled on his gloves.
“Elena.”
Her head lifted. At Jeb’s unspoken command, she bit her lip and nodded, then bent to drop a kiss to her father’s forehead. “It’s time, Pop.”
“I know.”
She pressed her cheek against his. “I’m afraid. For you. For Nicky. For all of us.”
“Me, too, honey.” He stroked her hair, over and over. “But you have to be strong. No matter what happens.”
“I’m not sure I can be.”
Her head lifted, and Jeb saw that her cheeks were wet. She stepped away, allowing Jeb and Creed to lift the cot into the wagon, taking care as best they could not to jar the injured leg unduly. By the time they came out again, she’d mounted her horse. Her gaze found Creed’s.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For everything.”
He shrugged off her gratitude and climbed onto the driver’s seat. “Be real careful. Both of you.”
She nodded once, then tugged on the reins. By the time Jeb lifted a foot into the stirrup, she’d spurred her horse into a hard turn and galloped out of the woodlands.
Heading south.
Without him.
He muttered an oath and tore off after her.
Chapter Four
T oo soon, darkness fell. The need to find Nicky consumed Elena, drove her with a relentless desperation that quelled fatigue or hunger and blinded her to the needs of her mount.
Or the man who kept pace beside her.
She kept her sights on the horizon. On Mexico. On getting to her baby as soon as she could.
But as the hours fell away, the black night grew more disorienting. A halfhearted moon barely provided enough illumination to keep them on the trail, and clouds rolling in threatened to obliterate even that.
It would be easy to lose their bearings. What if they found themselves heading north, away from Mexico? From Nicky?
She refused to think of the possibility. She had to find him, no matter what.
“Time to pull up, Elena. We’ve ridden long enough.”
Elena started at the low voice of the man she knew only as Jeb. It was the first time he’d spoken to her since they had left her father in the woodlands.
“No,” she said. “I want to keep moving.”
But she slowed her horse to rest, just for a few moments. Again she studied the horizon. She could barely discern the narrow ribbon of water ahead, but the shimmer of the moonlight on the surface confirmed it was there. A westerly tributary of the Nueces River, she realized, and an opportunity to water the horses.
In the silence of the night, a gun cocked. Her heart began a slow pound. Slowly, carefully, she turned.
And faced the wrong end of Jeb’s Colt revolver.
“It’s best that you understand right now, Elena,” he murmured. “I give the orders. And I expect you to follow ’em when I do.”
She couldn’t see his unshaven face in the shadows beneath the broad brim of his hat. But she could feel him watch her with a cold cunning that left the blood faltering in her veins.
He could kill her right now. And no one would know. Except Pop, and by then, it’d be too late.
She refused to show her fear. Her vulnerability.
“Even when