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She patted his hand as it lay on his knee. “If you stayed here, you might find you like it.”
Liking it was the problem. It had kept him from doing what he always did and must continue to do. Ride away. Disappear. Don’t look back.
Dawg rose and whined, looking toward the barn.
Sybil laughed. “Do you think he’s trying to tell us something? As in he’d like to go back home?” She got to her feet. “I guess we better do as he suggests.”
Thus ended his stolen afternoon.
As he gained his feet, he heard a quail cooing across the river.
Every nerve in his body fired hot lava. His heart took off at a mad gallop.
It could possibly be a quail, but Cyrus used to make that sound to signal to Brand.
Had Cyrus and Pa had found him?
He had delayed too long.
Sybil didn’t seem to notice his hurry to return to the barn, and left them at the gate, saying she must get back and help Linette.
He waited until she was out of earshot before he turned to Dawg. “Dawg, we’re leaving.”
The dog didn’t protest, but Brand’s heart pounded against his ribs as if trying to get free.
Freedom was not an option for him. Either he ran or he hanged.
Chapter Ten
Brand gathered his stuff together. If that was Cyrus and Pa he’d heard, they would be watching the place. He’d slip away under cover of darkness. So he sank back on the hay-covered floor to wait, as Dawg slept. Brand planted his hat on his head, tipped it over his eyes and crossed his arms on his chest. Anyone caring to check on him would assume he slept, though the tension coursing through him made that impossible.
He woke from his pretend sleep for only one thing: Sybil delivering supper.
She sat beside him as he choked down the food.
She would be hurt that he simply disappeared. Several times he opened his mouth, and closed it again without saying the words he longed to speak. He wanted to tell her he must leave that very night. But he couldn’t face an argument to stay. Nor could he risk having her try and stop him. He had no choice but to keep his plans secret.
She chattered on about Linette’s intended trip to town in a few days. “She’s hoping for letters from home and something from Grady’s father. She is convinced the boy won’t ever be happy unless that relationship is mended.”
Brand had removed his hat when she joined him, and sat back at an angle so he could watch her. He had avoided developing feelings for anyone since May had made him see how dangerous that was. Even before, he’d learned to be guarded in his friendships. It was a lesson hard learned in his youth and one he should have heeded. But he regretted for less than a second the exception he’d made in this case. Yes, he had to leave. Hopefully, he could escape his brother and Pa. He’d hole up someplace for the winter as was his habit. But this winter he’d have a heart full of both regret and pleasure at this memory.
“Oh, goodness. I have talked on and on, haven’t I?”
“Not a problem.”
“But I must be going.” She rose in a graceful move.
He scrambled to his feet and stared down at her, hoping his eyes did not reveal how thoroughly he studied every feature, knowing this would be his last time to drink in the details.
She touched the back of his hand, sending warmth racing to his heart. It took every ounce of his self-control to keep his arms crossed, his hand pressed to himself, when he ached to hold her close. Enjoy one brief moment of joy before taking up his old life again.
Perhaps sensing the hardness he must force into his heart, she stepped back. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night,” he murmured. He waited until she left the pen before turning to watch and listen to her leave the barn. Then he hurried to the workbench and watched her through the clean spot in the window.
Not until she reached the house and stepped inside did he return to the stall.
He waited until the last of the sunset faded and stars began to pepper the sky before he led his horse from the barn, keeping carefully to soft bits of ground to muffle the sound of his departure. He carried Dawg. Any direction he took would necessitate passing an occupied building, so he must proceed with caution, but once away from the ranch he meant to ride hard in a westerly direction. He made his way past the foreman’s house and up the hill. Not until he deemed he was beyond hearing did he swing into the saddle, let Dawg get comfortable in his arms. Then he galloped down the dark thread that indicated the trail.
