Caden's Vow. Sarah McCarty
an hour earlier. She’d heard the back-porch step creak as he’d slipped out. Saw the light in the barn. It was time for her to go now, too. Sneaking down the back stairs, she ducked out the same door as Caden, but she avoided the third board on the steps. While no one would protest Caden’s departure, hers would be sure to cause a fuss. Her redbone hound whined and lifted his head. She smiled and made a motion of her hand. He came over immediately. She fed him a piece of meat left over from supper. He wolfed it down and, when another wasn’t forthcoming, drooped his head until the loose folds all but obscured his eyes. He had the look of his father, Boone, but was the despair of Tucker’s pack. Worthless, he’d been named, because while he could track like his father, he wouldn’t bay.
The day Tucker had cut him from the litter, she’d cried for him. When she’d heard his name, that had been the final straw. She’d taken the dog as hers, expecting a protest. No one had said a word. He’d become her “porch hound,” as Tucker called him. She’d tried to change the dog’s name, but he refused to respond to anything else, which just went to prove everything had a meaning to someone, and she had to respect his preference.
It still made her nervous having a friend, even if it was a dog, but there was no going back. Worthless had claimed her as much as she’d claimed him. So far they’d been friends. Tonight, he was going to become her partner. She hoped. Tapping her hip, she beckoned Worthless to her side.
The note and IOU she’d written crinkled in her pocket. Flower was a sweet little mare that Tucker had trained for her. She had a gentle way about her and not a mean bone in her body. Maddie trusted her as she trusted no human. No matter how valuable the horse was, Maddie couldn’t choose another. And not only because her riding skills weren’t that good. She needed things around her right now in which she had faith. She might have decided to happen to her life, but that didn’t mean she had any confidence she could pull it off.
Flower nickered as Maddie approached her stall. She opened the door, her hands shaking. She patted the mare’s neck and took a breath. The only other time she’d taken her destiny into her own hands was when she’d bolted after Tracker out the door of that whorehouse. She still didn’t know what had made her do it, but once done, there’d been no going back. She’d been prepared to beg the big man, but he’d turned and looked at her, appearing so dark and alien she’d almost reconsidered, then with a nod he’d held out his hand. She’d taken it full of fear, only to find beneath that harsh exterior was a good man.
He’d been looking for his Ari then, sympathy for her plight no doubt driving him to collect discarded women along the way. Tracker had brought her home to Hell’s Eight the way he brought many others. Giving them a place to heal. Most had left after a month or two. Moving on. She’d stayed. She hadn’t had any other place to go and she’d been afraid to start over. Or so she’d thought. Truth was, she’d just been slow to be ready.
She looked beyond the open stable door to the fading night beyond. But that was all changing. “We’re going adventuring, Flower.”
She snubbed the little horse to the hitching post and fetched her tack. Worthless flopped by the post. “Caden thinks he can just break a promise to me, but he can’t,” she told the hound. He rolled his big brown eyes at her.
Thanks to Caden’s relentless instruction, she made short work of saddling and bridling the little mare. At the time she’d wanted to curse him, but now, when time was critical, she appreciated every tedious lesson. She couldn’t afford to let Caden get too far ahead of her. She took the IOU out of her pocket and stuck it on a nail jutting out of the post. Stealing a horse was a hanging offense. She wanted to be sure the Hell’s Eight knew she was only borrowing Flower. Over the IOU she put the note she’d written to Tia and Bella. It was short and to the point. A thank-you and a simple I’ve decided to live my life. As an afterthought she’d added, Please, don’t worry. She hoped she’d spelled everything right.
It was a novel thought that someone would worry about her. She smiled. Taking control of her life was working. She now had friends.
Looping the leash around Worthless’s neck, she tied the other end around the saddle horn. His silent tracking was going to work for her. The last thing she needed was for Caden to know she was following until they were too far out for him to send her back.
She took one last look around. Here she was safe. Beyond the door, her life waited. For a minute she hesitated. Worthless whined and stood. She nodded. “You’re right. It’s time to go.”
She swung up into the saddle, her skirt settling around the pants Caden had purchased for her when he’d noticed how she’d been sore after that first time riding. She hadn’t had pantaloons and she’d been too embarrassed to tell anybody. She’d fretted for days he’d tell and she’d be embarrassed. So much had embarrassed her back then. Gathering up the reins, she sighed. She’d felt so lacking amid the confidence of the Hell’s Eight women. But that had been her own silliness, as Bella would put it.
Then, a few days after that first riding lesson, Caden had handed her a box and told her to open it in private. Her first thoughts had been shameful. Thinking he’d bought her scandalous womanly things, and it had been with great trepidation she’d placed the box on her bed. When she’d opened it, she’d cried. Stupid, silly tears. He’d bought her ugly man-pants to wear under her skirts. Made of soft wool and thick enough so her thighs wouldn’t chafe. She’d lost her heart to him right then, though it took her weeks to identify what that skip of a beat had meant.
She loved those damn pants. Loved that damn man. And now she was planning on loving her damn life. So much had changed around her in the past year. So much had changed within her. She’d gone from a scared child who hid in make-believe to a woman who was learning to live. It was exciting. It was energizing. It was as scary as all get-out. Patting Flower on the shoulder and smiling at the eagerly waiting Worthless, Maddie urged the mare forward. Worthless fell in beside.
“Ready or not, here we come.”
CHAPTER THREE
MADDIE’S SENSE OF adventure took a rapid downhill spiral. It wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be to follow Caden’s trail. Worthless would first pick up and then lose the scent. And frankly, she couldn’t tell the difference. Flower didn’t always want to go where Worthless went, she couldn’t see what she was doing, and that damn breeze rustling the leaves kept whispering in her ears little words of warning. Go back. Go back. But she was tired of going back, so she plunged on, letting her mind drift so worry wouldn’t eat her alive, trusting Worth to get her where she needed to go.
Flower stumbled, tossing Maddie about in the saddle. She grabbed the horn. The mare tossed her head and took two steps back. Worthless whined at the end of the leash as he was pulled off the scent. Lifting her head, she saw immediately why the horse stopped. An overgrown, impenetrable bramble thicket was just sitting there where she needed to go. Darn! She’d have to go around.
The dog whined again, straining toward the thicket as she tugged on the leash.
“We don’t have a choice,” she snapped at the animal. She immediately regretted the harshness. It wasn’t Worth’s fault that she was confused. She just hadn’t expected everything to look so similar in the dark. She had no idea where she was. Flower tossed her head again. No doubt she wanted to be safely home in her stall. Maddie had a sense of day coming, but not much sun got through the thickness of the trees. Worth whined again, straining to the left. There was a slight hole in the thicket there, but it certainly wasn’t big enough for the horse. Wrapping the leash around her wrist, she pulled him back. She sat deeper in the saddle and looked around. In all directions, she saw trees. If she didn’t know better, she’d say the same tree just repeated itself. She didn’t even know if she could find her way home from here. She had no choice but to go forward. She’d just have to take the chance that she could find the trail again. And the discouraging thought came to her that if she and her horse couldn’t pass through here, neither could Caden, which only left one question: What exactly had the dog been following?
“You were supposed to follow Caden,” she told Worth. He looked up at her, tongue