The Reluctant Outlaw. Karen Kirst
concern for her, a stranger whose name he hadn’t bothered to ask until a minute ago, was a foreign emotion. He’d been consumed with his own needs for so long—his desire for revenge and his well-thought-out plans to get it.
Evan felt ashamed. Selfish. Hard-hearted. Almost like an entirely different person than he’d been before his brother’s murder. His cousin certainly had tried to convince him to let the authorities handle it, had warned Evan of the hazards of settling old scores.
The faith he’d grown up with and cultivated as an adult—the same faith he’d considered the foundation of his existence—had splintered beneath him in the space of a day. He’d fallen into an abyss of suspicion and inner turmoil.
“How long will it take to get back to town?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Evan weighed his words carefully. “We’re not going to Gatlinburg. I’ve decided it’s too risky to take you back there. For now, anyway.”
“I don’t understand.” Although her voice remained calm, he sensed the brewing storm.
“I’d planned to take you straight home to your family, but since the men know about you … we can’t risk it. I figure the safest spot for you right now is my place—”
The hand holding the compress against her cheek went limp, and she looked at him in horror. “Your place? The home of a thief and kidnapper? No! I am not sleeping one night under your roof!”
Goodness, but she was stunning when riled up. A faint blush stained her cheeks, her pink mouth puckered in disapproval and graceful hands propped on her slim hips. She looked eager for a fight.
“You’ll be safe there. That’s what matters.”
“Safe?” Her expression turned disbelieving. “With the man who held a gun on me, forced me from my family and is currently planning to whisk me away to parts unknown?”
“Why don’t you calm down so we can discuss this rationally?”
“When it comes to my freedom, I don’t feel particularly rational!”
“I brought you here. It’s my duty to get you home safe and sound—”
“Oh, I see …” she scoffed. “You’ve got it all planned out. The triumphant return! You deliver me to my front doorstep and my family will fall to their knees in gratitude—a true hero.”
“I’m no one’s hero,” he shot back. “Remember that.”
Bitter regret rose in his throat like bile. He’d failed to protect his only brother—tried and failed.
He lowered his voice. “The men go into town once or twice a week for supplies. With your flame-colored hair, you might as well wear a sign around your neck. If I take you back now, I’d be risking your life and mine.”
“I’m not the only redhead in town, you know.”
“Gatlinburg isn’t exactly a big town.” He paused, trying to think of a way to make her see reason. “What about your sisters?”
She stilled. “What about them?”
“Suppose one of the men—let’s say Fitzgerald—spotted you in town and followed you home. You wouldn’t be the only one in danger.”
She looked away, evenly spaced white teeth worrying her lower lip. He could see that she was torn. At last, she crossed her arms. She didn’t appear pleased with the change in plans.
“Do you realize the anguish my mother must be feeling right now? And my sisters? I’m the oldest. They depend on me.”
“You haven’t mentioned your father.”
Her eyes darkened. “He died four years ago of a heart attack.”
“I’m sorry.” Evan understood the pain of losing a parent. “We can send a telegram from Cades Cove, let them know you’re safe and will be home soon.”
She closed her eyes, distress twisting her lovely features. “This is a nightmare.”
“A nightmare that will soon be over.”
Resigned, she sighed. “What do you have in mind?”
“We’ll pass by Gatlinburg and make our way to Cades Cove. My farm is there. We can make the trip in about three days if the weather holds. You’ll have the place to yourself while I ride back to the hideout and convince the men I got rid of you. They’ll be heading out in a week or so. Then I’ll come back for you and escort you home.”
“Why would you do that? Why go to so much trouble on my behalf when you’re partly responsible for my kidnapping?”
He deserved that. “That’s right. I’m responsible.” He jammed a thumb in his chest. “As I said before, I got you into this mess and I intend to get you out of it.”
“Something’s not right.” She studied him, a speculative gleam in her eye. “Little details about you that don’t quite add up.”
Intrigued, he crossed his arms and waited. “Such as?”
“Well, for starters, you talk funny.”
He hadn’t expected that. “Excuse me?”
“No, no, that’s not the right word.” She began to pace, and he could practically see the wheels in her brain whirling. She snapped her fingers. “Educated! That’s it! You don’t use foul language. And you don’t speak as if you were raised in a saloon, as one would expect from a common criminal.”
“And you’re acquainted with common criminals, I take it?”
“Thanks to you, I am now.”
“Yes, that’s unfortunate. I apologize.”
“There.” She pointed a finger at him. “That’s the other thing. You shouldn’t be apologizing to me.”
“I shouldn’t?” This woman was beginning to confuse him.
“You treat me as if I have value. Those other men …” She shuddered. “What I mean to say is that, for the most part, you’ve treated me with respect. A truly hardened criminal would’ve done as those men suggested and gotten rid of me.”
“Wait just a minute—”
“Shh! Don’t try to distract me. There’s one more thing, and it’s a doozy.”
A no-nonsense expression stole across her face and, straightening to her full height, she focused her entire attention on him. He felt like a witness under cross-examination.
“Well? What is it?”
“Money.”
“What about it?”
“Where is the money you risked your life and mine for? You walked out of that cabin without a moment’s hesitation. Have you even given it a second thought?”
“I’ve been kinda busy plotting our next move.”
“Exactly.”
Uncomfortable with her astute observations, he sought to distract her. “Is that all, Irish?”
“Yes, that’s all.” Her eyes narrowed. “What did you call me?”
“Fits, doesn’t it? Or would you prefer Red?”
“Absolutely not!”
“I suppose I could try to guess your name,” Evan made a show of studying her, and he gained much satisfaction at seeing her squirm. “How about Matilda?”
Her finely arched eyebrows shot up. “You think I look like a Matilda?”
“Hmm … no, that’s not quite right, is it?” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I know. Bertha.”