Randall Renegade. Judy Christenberry

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Randall Renegade - Judy Christenberry


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Patience, I promise you.”

      “Jim, I… Be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

      He grinned and her heart raced. She’d dreamed so long of his smile. It held everything she loved about him.

      “I don’t, either,” Jim said cheerfully.

      Then he extended his hand into the tent to stroke her cheek. “You take care of yourself and Tommy.”

      “I will.”

      Then he was gone.

      Patience cupped her cheek, wanting the feel of his warm skin against hers to last. Could he do as he promised? Without getting hurt? She feared Kane would shoot him, or order him shot, if he discovered Jim had come to rescue her.

      She did not want Jim Randall’s blood on her hands.

      Chapter Three

      “Mommy!”

      Patience came awake with a jolt. She stared at the little boy. “What? What is it?” she whispered.

      “The general didn’t come get me this morning. And they’re making a lot of noise.”

      He was right. Patience could hear the sound of guns being fired. She was amazed they hadn’t woken her. “Stay here,” she said, and crawled the couple of feet to the tent opening and peeked out. Five men were lined up, their backs to their tent, firing at a target, a tin can, perched on a log about fifty yards away.

      To her surprise, Jim was walking among the men, giving them tips on improving their aim. Kane was watching them, a satisfied look on his face. His lieutenants, who were always near him, didn’t look happy. Maybe they were jealous of Jim, she thought.

      Then she saw Roger approaching her tent, carrying a tray.

      “Miz Anderson, I have some breakfast here for you and the boy,” he said. “I have to clean up the breakfast things, and I’m afraid you won’t get anything if you don’t take this.”

      She immediately pushed the tent flap wide. “Thank you, Roger. You’re very good to us.”

      He grinned shyly. “Yes, ma’am. If you’ll give me your cups, I’ll bring you some water, too.”

      She hurriedly handed him the tin cups she and Tommy had been given. “Thank you, Roger. Much appreciated.”

      “No problem, ma’am.”

      He returned in moments with the water, and Patience remained at the opening of the tent as Roger moved away, her gaze focused on Jim. He didn’t exhibit any of the pompous authority Kane employed. He moved among those learning to shoot as a friendly helper, and it was obvious he was earning the respect of the men in a way Kane could never do.

      As if her thoughts had conjured him up, she heard Kane’s harsh voice. “Patience! You and the boy should be out of your tent. We have things to do.”

      Patience’s gaze swung to where Kane was standing a few yards away. He’d caught her staring at Jim. Not good.

      “We’re eating now,” she replied. “We’ll be out after we’ve dressed.”

      She withdrew from sight. Could she keep Tommy hidden from his father for the day? The boy wouldn’t like being trapped in a tent all those hours. The storm had passed during the night, and he’d want out to run in the snow.

      “Tommy, here’s some breakfast. Some eggs and meat.”

      “I don’t like that. I want pancakes.”

      Patience took her small son by the shoulders. “Listen, Thomas. We’re in danger. If we’re ever to get back home to Grandma, we need to be strong. To be strong we’ve got to eat. There’ll be time for pancakes when we’re safely back home.” She knew she sounded stern, but it was important the boy understand.

      “Yes, ma’am,” Tommy said softly, his head down.

      “Roger brought us some toasted bread, too,” she said encouragingly. “It’s probably cold by now, but it’ll still taste good.”

      They sat together, trying to stay warm, and ate silently. She took a swallow of the water Roger brought them and then offered the cup to Tommy. He didn’t complain about not having milk to drink and dutifully took a few sips. Then they brushed their teeth with the water in the other cup and the toothbrush she’d brought from home.

      “What do we do now?” Tommy asked.

      “Well, I think you should get back under the covers. I have a new book for you to read. I have to go talk to Joseph, but you will be safer in here.”

      “A new book?” Tommy asked with excitement.

      Patience was glad Tommy focused on the book. “Listen, baby, when I tell you to do something, I need you to do it at once. I can explain later, but…the bad man could hurt you if you don’t do what I say.”

      Tommy nodded mutely.

      She leaned over and kissed him. “Okay. Here’s your book. Stay in here and read it until I come back.”

      Patience pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt over her long underwear. Then she added a big coat, actually her father’s old sheepskin-lined leather coat, and gloves.

      “I’ll see you in a little while, Tommy.”

      When she emerged, the men were no longer target-shooting. Instead, the soldiers were donning all the outer clothes they had. She watched them, trying to figure out what was going on.

      “Patience! Where’s the boy?” Kane yelled. He was standing outside his tent.

      “He’s staying warm in the tent.”

      “Dammit! Get him dressed. We’re taking a training hike.”

      “He wouldn’t be able to keep up!” Patience was determined to keep her small nephew from going with the troops.

      Jim stepped over to Kane and said something she couldn’t hear.

      “Never mind,” Kane called after his consultation with Jim. “We’ll train him later.”

      “Over my dead body,” Patience muttered. She watched as the general called his men together. It appeared they were leaving behind four soldiers to prepare lunch, Roger among them. But Jim and all three lieutenants were being included in the hike.

      Patience breathed a sigh of relief. In spite of her hatred for Kane, she knew she’d be safe from the soldiers he’d left behind because his men feared him too much to hurt her. Which made her wonder not for the first time why any of them followed him.

      When the men filed out of camp, she wandered over to the big campfire. Roger and the other three soldiers were trying to figure out what to cook for lunch.

      “But we gotta chop more firewood, too,” one man said.

      “I’ll be glad to help cook while two of you chop wood,” she offered.

      “Oh, no, ma’am,” Roger protested. “The general wouldn’t like that.”

      “I don’t think the general would care. And I’ll tell him I insisted on it.”

      She organized the men and suggested they cook stew, which could be heated up whenever the men returned. After they chopped the meat and cut up what vegetables they had, Patience began mixing up the ingredients for biscuits.

      “Ma’am, I can see you know how to cook,” Roger said. “Too bad the general doesn’t put you in charge of the meals.”

      “It’s easy today, Roger. When we run out of vegetables, it won’t be so good,” she pointed out. “What does the general provide for your food when winter really takes hold?”

      “I don’t know, ma’am. We’ve only been here a couple of months.”

      Patience


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