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Living in a realistic world most of the time, Riley accepted herself as plain and unappealing to men. Her father reminded her many times. That’s why Harry’s unexpected flirting this morning shocked her.
Riley bit her lip again, this time so hard the blood ran. Determined not to think on it this morning, she had other worries b
earing down on her.
With Harry Stevens breathing down her neck, wanting to kill her and take her ranch, she couldn’t allow herself the luxury of feeling sorry for herself. Besides, she’d gotten past that point. Survival took first place now.
Had Harry planned this take-over all along? Had he merely been biding his time until he was ready to spring it on her? Yes, that figured. How had it escaped her? She was no fool.
Her father raised the accusation that most of the young men about would be more interested in the land and the money than her. Harry never showed a moment’s interest in her ‘til her father died and she should have seen the change coming. Although, the way he spoke to the deputy that occasionally rode out from Waco, she would never expect Harry to propose.
Funny, when she thought of it, no one had questioned her authority three months ago when her father first died. The usual sympathies had been offered. The entire event had run so smoothly even she questioned it. She’d taken over the controls of the ranch without the slightest problem. Naturally her father’s will was recorded by his lawyer, but no one seemed to have any objection, even though she had inherited one of the biggest spreads in Texas. Obviously some had bided their time. Her foreman, the cook, and several of the hands had taken up the gun when Harry had hollered for them. Obviously they had planned the take-over of her ranch, and figured they could kill her as easy as anything. After all, who would notice? She had few friends in the community, and only one close friend who lived several miles on the other side of her property which she rarely had time to visit.
She’d barely escaped to her room when Harry pulled his gun, but she’d rushed into her room and locked the door. She then hurriedly changed clothes and disguised herself as one of the hands as he banged on the door and demanded she come out. Finally, the banging stopped, but Riley soon realized Harry was waiting for her by the door. She escaped out the window, falling to the ground with a heavy thud. She knew she was bruised by the soreness when she moved about. She couldn’t give in to that.
However, escaping hadn’t helped much; the cook fired on her as soon as she hit the ground, and one of the younger hands chased her until she nearly keeled over from exhaustion. She ran in circles for almost an hour trying to escape them all. She tried to calm her racing heart. What was she going to do? For the first time in her life, she had to think, she had to act, and fast.
Harry was a good shot and he aimed to kill her.
Riley weighed her options. Options? What options? She had to get away and fast or she’d be history. These men weren’t playing around and now they’d acted on their plans they couldn’t turn back from.
She only had one chance; she had to catch the noon stage out of Abilene. If she could cross the road, without being seen, she might escape and wait out the stage. She’d wait ‘til dark, then try for the road.
She glanced down at herself, in her old working clothes she didn’t look much like a lady.
A spider crawled across her arm and she thumped it away, her pulse accelerating.
In her hurry to escape, she stuffed all she could carry into her small knapsack and strung it across her chest and back. She’d never been an adventurer, she knew little about survival in the wilds, but there was always a first time for everything. Her father had wanted her to be a genteel lady. He’d even talked about sending her to one of those all-female schools for the genteel. But Riley had easily persuaded him that she was more suited for ranch work than most his hands. By the time she was fifteen she could out shoot most of the men on the ranch, including her father. She could swim, hunt, fish, and ride as well as any man, but the art of being a lady had escaped her attention. There wasn’t much call for being a lady on a working ranch. And once she decided she was no beauty she began to work harder to help her father with the ranch.
Her father became frustrated with trying to marry her off. It wasn’t as though she was ugly; she had a straight nose, a lot of hair and her smile was most generous, but she knew up against the other ladies about she stood no chance of getting the best wrangler. So she satisfied herself with knowing she was probably the best ranch hand her father had. And he agreed finally.
One of the young hands came to the back of the barn and raised a hand over his eyes to stare out over the prairie; he was only a hairs breath away. Had he but looked down, she would have been spotted, surely. “She’s got to be out here somewhere. Don’t look like she took a horse, so she’s afoot and we can probably catch her.”
Riley felt another tear roll down her cheek, for being so gullible about the men; tears of humiliation, tears of lost pride, tears of fear. She couldn’t give way to hysteria. She had no choice in the matter. Today, she took on a new persona, one of survival. The one thing she knew, she could manage almost anything once she set her mind to it. She’d get out of this somehow.
She sat there in the heat, wishing she’d thought to get a canteen, but she hadn’t much choice, there was no canteen in her room. She looked through the boards of the barn and saw an old canteen hanging on the wall, but how could she get to it? A horse would also be nice, but she was afraid they would make too much noise. No, her only option was to wait until darkness and head for the road.
She would be thirsty, hungry, tired and hot, but she wouldn’t be dead!
They hadn’t spotted her yet and until someone did, she was safe here. If she hadn’t insisted on planting that evergreen tree by the barn, she wouldn’t have cover now.
Being still and quiet when her stomach growled at her and the sweat ran off her forehead and into her eyes was hard to do. She could think of a million things she’d rather be doing right this minute. Things she might never have a chance to do again.
Even if she managed to get away, the stage wouldn’t be about until noon tomorrow. She’d have to find another place to hide once she got to the road. And then what, her mind screamed. The road was noticeable and someone would quickly spot her, so maybe she’d skirt the road and find a rock or tree to hide behind until the stage came.
Exactly where was she going? She had no folks to run to, no man to take care of her. What would she do? Thankfully, she had money, but her destiny was uncertain at this point.
She’d lived on the ranch all her life, rarely went anywhere and now she was forced to leave or die. But she knew her land, every inch of it, and she got her bearings so she could get to the road and on that stage as quickly as possible.
“I’m a coward,” she mumbled to herself. “If dad saw me running out, he’d roll over in his grave. I should fight them with all my might. I shouldn’t be running.” But Harry was an expert shot and she knew he’d try to kill her first chance.
Then she shrugged, “He’s got me at a disadvantage; I’ll come back one day.”
Another cowboy came around the corner. “She’s probably long gone by now…”
Then she heard Harry’s voice once more. “More than likely she is. I’m sure I scared the daylights out of her. You should have seen the innocent look on her face. She shore wasn’t expecting it. Now all that’s left is to wait. She don’t show up, we’ll just stay here. Since she ain’t here it’ll be easy to make up a story. Ain’t got no money, but we got the place, and if she don’t come back, we can probably sell it before the taxes come due. We can have her declared as missing and loony as a bin. Everyone thinks she’s strange anyway.”
“That’s for sure. Ain’t you gonna go after her and get that money, though?” the cook asked, coming around.
