Leather and Lace - By DiAnn Mills Page 0,32

to find her, and if they got away, they’d waste no time finding Jenkins. The gang and the law could be closing in on her. But then she realized worrying about it only made her stomach churn and her head hurt. She’d keep riding until some remote town looked safe.

Every morning she thought of Morgan, and he stayed in her dreams when the world gathered its blanket of darkness.

“I’ve made him something near perfect,” she said to Stampede. “But dreams settle a body down better than nightmares.”

The beauty surrounding the rich area of central Texas captured her senses. Wild petunias in bright purplish blue sprawled nearly two feet tall. Pink prairie verbenas sprang up in clusters beside streams and in open fields. She marveled at the midsummer display of color, ranging from pale pink to blue and bright yellow. Towering live oaks and mesquite trees provided shade from the hot sun, and she sensed something different about the area. This was new territory to her, since the gang hadn’t ridden any farther south than Fort Worth.

Then, when she least expected it, memories of Jenkins flooded her mind and tortured her soul. Casey shuddered and willed her body to relax. Even the sweet smell of nature in bloom did nothing to ease the past.

The first time he forced himself on her, she’d been fourteen years old, a kid too young and too naive to have much sense. She and Tim had been with the gang for about two months. Every day she begged her brother to leave, but the tales of money and notorious outlaws were too much temptation. The gang camped along the Missouri River a few miles from Jefferson City, where they grew anxious for whiskey and women. Jenkins rode out with them, and she seized the opportunity to take a bath and wash her hair.

When Casey stepped out of the water, Jenkins stood alone on the bank. Even now, as she remembered struggling to get away, the unbidden moment attacked her senses.

“Where you goin’?” he’d said with a laugh.

“My clothes.” Casey swallowed her tears but not her fear.

He glanced toward the small pile to the right of him. “Oh, you can have ’em later.” He stepped closer, and she backed into the water. “I’ve been wonderin’ what was under them jeans. Now I can see for myself.”

She backed farther until the water was up to her neck. “Please leave me alone.”

“Can’t do that.” He pulled his gun from his waist. “Out of the water, girl.”

He hurt her, bruised her in places no one would ever see, and when he was done, he threw her clothes at her.

“There you are. And this won’t be the last time you and me get together.”

“I’ll tell Tim.”

His eye twitched, and he grabbed her face. “One word and that no-count brother of yours is dead. Understand?”

When she didn’t answer, he squeezed her face. “Keep your mouth shut, and don’t try to leave. You understand?”

She nodded.

“And from now on you ride with us, Casey girl.” He ran his fingers through her damp hair. “I like this.” He bent to kiss her, but she spit in his face.

A mistake.

“What happened to your face?” Tim later demanded.

“I fell when a snake was after me.” That wasn’t far from the truth.

The vile smell of Jenkins’s breath, his hands on her bruised flesh, and all the sounds of nature disappeared. Some things could never be forgotten. Some women might have given in to Jenkins and his way of life, but she refused. Call it stubborn. Call it uppity. Call it remembering her ma’s kind nature. She hated every moment of those seven years. And the only reason she stayed was fear.

Casey dug her heels into Stampede’s sides and let the stallion fly.

Warm nights gave way to warmer mornings, and by afternoon the temperature heated up again. Casey remembered this part of Texas rarely saw snow, which sounded better than the subzero temperatures of the North, especially the winters in the Utah, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, and Dakota territories. Watching the seasons change had been a splendid sight, but a warmer climate suited her bones.

As the miles lay behind her and the forests grew thick and green, she began to look for a small quaint town to call her own. She bathed in the sparkling creeks feeding off the Brazos River and passed huge clusters of tall, spindly pine. Choosing to travel back roads, she avoided anyone who might cause her harm, but now and then she met a traveler

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