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“Will you take me with you?” Evelyn stood abruptly and stared at Aimee. Her bold request was rude and imposing, but she didn’t know what else to do. She had no one, and nowhere else to go.
Aimee studied her, then her eyes focused on something behind Evelyn, and her face brightened in a wide smile. “Alex, you’re just in time for breakfast. Would you like some coffee?”
Evelyn wheeled around at the sound of his name, her heart lodged in her throat. A man who was a stranger, yet looked oddly familiar strode into camp. She stared at him, open-mouthed. An older version of the Alex she remembered, the quiet, mild-mannered youth from her childhood dreams now walked toward her. His face was clean-shaven, and his dark hair trimmed to below the nape of his neck. The grease-stained buckskins he’d worn the day before were gone, replaced by a clean cotton shirt and what looked like newly sewn buckskin britches.
“Mornin’, Evie,” he said, his voice barely audible. His blue eyes held her gaze.
Evelyn tried to speak, but she couldn’t bring forth a single word. Her mouth had gone completely dry.
“He was rather disagreeable, Mama, but as you can see, the task is accomplished.” Sarah rushed into camp from the same direction Alex had come from, a triumphant grin on her face.
“Come along, Sarah,” Aimee said, and grabbed her daughter’s arm. “You and I have work to do.” She faced Alex. “If you’ll excuse us.”
When Sarah opened her mouth, Aimee shot her a warning glare, and pushed her daughter away from camp toward their tent.
Evelyn curled her toes inside her shoes as if it would root her to the ground. An overwhelming urge to run after Aimee and Sarah swept over her. Instead, she glanced up at Alex, who hadn’t moved, nor had he stopped looking at her. Heat rose up her neck and into her cheeks from his intense perusal. How many countless times had she thought about him over the years? He looked just as she envisioned him. No. He was even more handsome than what she’d imagined. How could the face staring back at her be the same face as the hardened mountain man she’d seen yesterday? The face of a murderer?
Alex cleared his throat. “I . . . ah, brought you this.” He held out a bundle of tan-colored cotton material. “Traded for it this morning. Thought you might like something else to wear other than your brother’s old britches. I hope it’s enough to make a dress.”
Trying to steady her hands, Evelyn reached for the muslin material that he offered. Her fingers grazed his, and she jerked back. In one quick move, Alex’s hand reached out, and his fingers wrapped around her hand to keep her from pulling away. He stepped closer and lifted her arm, slowly rotating her wrist. Evelyn held her breath. Memories from the evening before flooded her mind, when Alex had squeezed her wrists to the point of cutting off her circulation. Aimee wasn’t here this time to stop him.
A dark frown formed on his face, and the muscles along his jaw visibly tightened. Alex stared from her face to her hand from beneath his lashes, his blue eyes darkening. His other hand reached out, and he slid the sleeve of Evelyn’s shirt up her arm, fully exposing her wrist. His work-roughened fingers gingerly touched her skin where red marks encircled her. His light touch felt like a caress, sending shivers racing up her arm.
“Evie, I . . .”
Evelyn yanked her hand from his grasp and took a step back.
“You what, Alex?” she said heatedly. Shielding the turmoil that raged inside her with anger, she fisted her hand at her hip and leaned forward. “You’re going to tell me again that you didn’t kill my parents?” She pointed at his chest. Her eyes narrowed, and she continued, her voice growing louder with each word. “That bullet hole proves that you were there. If Charlie’s aim had been better, you’d be dead, Henry would be alive, and I wouldn’t be in this awful place.”
Evelyn spun around, and buried her face in the muslin she still held in her hands. If Charlie had aimed better, her entire life would be different. Alex would be dead.
“Charlie Richardson? That corncracker is the one who shot me?” Alex’s voice boomed behind her. Evelyn wheeled to face him. Anger blazed in his eyes, where moments ago she’d seen a spark of tenderness.
“You deserved it, and more,” Evelyn shouted, advancing on him.
“Like hell I did.” Alex stepped toward her until they stood mere inches from each other. He towered over her, his eyes smoldering anger as he stared down at her. His grimace was more than intimidating.
Evelyn’s eyes widened. It was the same look he wore yesterday just before he grabbed her. No sooner had the thought entered her mind when his hands clamped around her upper arms. She tensed. For a moment, she was sure he would shake her, but his grip eased instantly, and his features softened.
