Chapter Two

      Essie slid from the horse to the ground with help from the Texan. Three fresh mounts clustered in the shade of the narrow canyon formed between two hills. Gripping her valise, she walked a few paces away from the men to stretch her legs.

      It had been some time since she’d ridden a horse. Her own two feet could get her everywhere in Evanston, which meant she didn’t require an animal or a carriage. But she did miss the thrill of riding, something she’d done nearly every day back on the ranch.

      Thoughts of home, and her family, pinched at her excitement until she pushed them away. She’d just been handed the greatest opportunity of her writing career and that was what mattered today. She was really and truly here, with an outlaw gang. Wherever here was.

      She moved toward the group. They were swapping the saddles to the fresh horses.

      “Thirsty?” the Texan asked.

      Before she could answer, he tossed her a canteen. Essie dropped her valise and easily caught the water container between her hands. A flicker of surprise passed through his blue eyes—he clearly hadn’t expected her to catch the canteen—but he shuttered his expression once again.

      “Thank you,” she said, giving him a smile. She took a long drink and then stepped forward to hand him the canteen.

      “Keep it. There’s still plenty of riding ahead.”

      Essie cocked her head to study him as he saddled his new horse. He was different in person than he sounded in the newspapers. More serious, less charismatic. A gentleman, though. The reports had been correct there. Unlike him, the other two outlaws were doing their best to ignore her. Not that she minded. She was grateful the Texan had insisted she ride with him, so she wasn’t off somewhere with Fletcher and his companion, by herself, at this precise moment. She wanted to interview the gang’s leader...but she didn’t want to be alone with him.

      “We’ll be a few more minutes.” The Texan threw the words over his shoulder at her. “Might want to wait in the shade.”

      Turning, she located a patch of shadow to one side that wasn’t currently occupied by the six horses. She picked up her valise and went to sit. A stiff breeze fanned her face. Essie pushed out a contented sigh as she shut her eyes.

      “There’s no need to be afraid,” the train robber intoned in a deep voice, crouching beside the heroine. “You’ll come under no harm, as long as you’re with me.”

      She swallowed back the bite of fear in her dry throat. “Truly?”

      He nodded and his blue eyes peered deeply into hers. “Here, have a drink.” His fingers lingered against her own as he passed her his canteen. “We still have a long way to—”

      The whinny of a horse followed by a cry from one of the men shattered the peace of the moment. Essie opened her eyes. They widened in shock when she realized all three outlaws were galloping away from the canyon, and from her.

      “Wait!” She scrambled to her feet. “Come back!”

      Her voice was drowned out by the thud of the horses’ hooves. Had they forgotten her, quiet as she had been the last few moments? No, surely the Texan wouldn’t leave her. Only minutes had passed since he’d tossed her his canteen. The one now lying in the dirt beside her valise.

      She reached for the derringer in her boot, hoping to attract their attention with a shot in the sky. Before she could extricate it, though, she saw the Texan glance over his shoulder. Their eyes met, bringing Essie instant relief. She laughed off her earlier concern of being left behind and released her gun. Of course he wouldn’t forget her.

      Only, instead of coming back, he whipped his face forward once more and appeared to urge his animal to move faster.

      The merriment drained from Essie’s lips as she watched the three men move farther away. The Texan had seen her—she felt certain of it. So why hadn’t he returned for her?

      Reality doused her with a coldness that made her shiver. He meant to leave you here. That’s why he was so generous with his canteen. She balled her hands into fists and glared at the man’s form in the distance. How could she have fallen for such a trick? He hadn’t wanted her to come along from the beginning, so he’d cleverly worked out a way to leave her behind.

      “Ooo,” she muttered, kicking at a clump of sagebrush. Handsome or not, the man certainly wasn’t a gentleman, as the newspapers claimed. Unless his benevolent treatment meant leaving women and children to fend for themselves. But, like his boss, Fletcher, the Texan had underestimated her. Landing himself in the same unsavory category as Victor Daley. “And I will best you both,” she hollered to the quiet prairie.

      The horses shifted at her impassioned cry, drawing her attention. While none of them sported a saddle, they’d been left with their bridles on, and Essie had no qualms about riding bareback. How many times as a young girl had she taken off without a saddle on her horse, Brownie?

      Gathering her valise and the Texan’s canteen, she approached the tired-looking horses. She would have to take the ride slow, at least at first. A dappled gray gelding studied her in turn as she scrutinized each horse. The star on its forehead reminded her of Brownie.

      “I think we’ll give you a try.”

      She led the horse away from his companions to a sizable rock. Gripping the handle of her valise between her teeth, she held the horse’s reins in hand and climbed onto the rock. From there she easily slipped onto the horse’s back.

      Bending down, she scooped up the canteen from off the rock and settled her things in her lap. “All right, boy. Let’s go.” She nudged the horse in the flanks, pointing him in the direction the robbers had taken minutes before.

      Once they’d broken free of the chain of hills, Essie studied the ground for tracks. She’d done extensive research for her book The Bounty Hunter Betrayed and now it was about to pay off in real life. The Texan had messed with the wrong dime novelist if he thought her incapable of doing something as simple as follow after them.

      Sure enough, she spotted the impression of horse hooves in the dirt and a partially trampled sagebrush farther on. If she kept heading in that same direction, she would eventually stumble into the trio.

      She bent forward over the horse and coaxed it to go faster. There were interviews to conduct. And no one, not even a handsome, sly, backstabbing Texan, was going to stop her.

      * * *

      “The camp is next to those hills,” Silas said, pointing. The sun had already begun dipping toward the horizon.

      Tate noted the spot absently. It was hard to focus on much of anything except the guilt that had been dogging him since he’d left Miss Vanderfair behind.

      For the hundredth time he reassured himself that she’d likely be fine. She had his canteen and her pick of a horse. But he couldn’t drive away the image in his mind of her standing there, waving at them to come back, her hazel eyes wide with shock.

      Running his bandanna over his dusty face, he followed the other two men toward the base of one of the hills. Eventually he spotted Fletcher and Jude up ahead. They appeared to be starting a fire.

      Tate stopped his horse and climbed out of the saddle. He needed a good night’s sleep. A chance to put the train robbery—his first and only—and