every fifteen miles. If we start at six in the morning, we could reach one of the Express stations, at that pace, by eight o’clock that evening.”
“And supplies?” he countered, mostly in an attempt to hide how impressed he was with her calculations. Clearly Delsie Radford was more than a pretty face with a sudden penchant for adventure. She’d managed to come up with a fairly logical plan...so far.
“Instead of paying to use the stations’ horses, I’ll pay them for room and board and feed for the animals for the single night we stay there.”
Myles scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his face. He hadn’t bothered to trim his beard this morning in his anticipation of getting Delsie back to Missouri. “What about water or feed for the horses during breaks?”
Delsie slid a glance at Amos. “That’s where Mr....I mean, Amos comes in. He’s familiar with the route. He knows most of the rivers and creeks along the way, as well as the Express stations.”
A sardonic laugh nearly escaped Myles’s lips. She’d clearly thought of everything, the little conspirator. While he’d lain in his bed awake last night, feeling guilty as he’d imagined her heartbroken and weeping in her room upstairs, Delsie had actually been scheming behind his back. And doing a decent job of it as evidenced by her clever equations and her solicitation of Amos’s help as a guide.
“What do you need me for, then?” He crossed his arms over his chest as a feeling he couldn’t quite name settled there, tight and uncomfortable. It reminded him of the taunts he’d experienced as a child at school, about being an orphan, about how Charles wasn’t his real pa. He’d quit going at age ten.
“Because I promised to pay you first...” Myles frowned, ready to argue with her. While the money would be nice, even if he got less than she’d originally offered after she paid the station owners and Amos, he wouldn’t be pitied. “And because you know the most about horses,” she added before he could protest. “Amos told me you worked for years at a livery stable. You know better than either of us when to rest the animals, when to push them. So you see, I need you...”
An attractive blush stained her cheeks at her words. The image of her long hair and exposed collarbone from last night entered Myles’s mind again. “What I mean is we need you. Me, Amos and my sister.”
Myles blew out his breath and absently rubbed Elijah’s feathers. Did he still want to help her? A good portion of him preferred climbing into the saddle and heading east, never to see Miss Delsie Radford again. But the other part of him, growing more insistent the longer the silence stretched between them, wanted to see if she—if they—could really do this.
Could they reach California in seventeen more days? The challenge, and the chance to earn more money for his future ranch, was as alluring as the woman watching him with those dark blue eyes. Eyes framed with long lashes, above a slightly pink nose. If anything the sunburn only added to her beauty.
Careful, Myles, he warned himself.
He’d fallen for a pretty face once before, only to be spurned. Clever and attractive as Delsie might be, Myles knew all too well the impossibility of their two worlds ever coexisting. It had been that way with Cynthia and it would be no different with any other spoiled rich girl who came along.
“All right, Miss Radford. I’ll send word to Saint Joe that I’ll be gone for a few weeks. But mind you, if I lose my job over this, I’ll hunt you down and demand more money.” He regarded her with a level look. “Got it?”
A slight smile toyed with her mouth. “Yes, Mr. Patton.”
He tugged his hat lower onto his head. “What do you want to do now?”
“Now,” she said, smiling fully, “we ride.”
* * *
If she’d thought she was sore after her first day of riding more than a hundred miles, Delsie knew better now. Nothing could compare to the pain and stiffness of a second day in the saddle. Her limbs felt as heavy as logs and as hard and unyielding as granite. Every rise and fall of the prairie ground seemed to radiate from her mare’s hooves up through her back and all the way to her stiff neck. Sheer determination, coupled with the constant memory of her sister’s tearstained face on the day Lillie had left, kept her from begging Myles and Amos to turn around.
Their pace nearly matched that of yesterday’s, except for the rests that, according to Amos’s fancy pocket watch and Myles’s knowledge of horses, they were taking every hour and a half. Even Amos, riding behind her, didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable, though he had to be in his early fifties. Perhaps by the time they reached her sister, Delsie would be just as seasoned on a horse.
She shifted in the saddle, hoping to find a position that didn’t chafe her legs or add to her pain. Up ahead, Myles remained silent and alert as he had the day before, his bird perched on his shoulder. Delsie had fully expected him to refuse to accompany her any farther, despite her new and improved plan. But then he’d surprised her by agreeing.
Why is he really here? she wondered, not for the first time since they’d set out. Why hadn’t Myles left her and Amos to fend for themselves?
Amos had told her his reasons for coming—the promise of adventure and a soft spot for helping women. She’d found herself telling him more about her sister, and why she had to reach her, than she’d confessed to Myles. Not that she trusted Amos more. But the older man seemed to grasp—and appreciate—her willingness to face whatever obstacles to help Lillie and her family by keeping her promise. It was something she sensed Myles didn’t quite understand. Delsie could still visualize his hardened expression when he’d declared he had no family. The memory filled her with the same measure of sadness his words had on the boat.
Was it this pain and loneliness that made him hide behind a mask of curtness and annoyance? For it surely was a mask. She’d seen a glimpse here and there in the past twenty-four hours of a different man. One who possessed integrity and determination but also kindness and compassion. At other times, though, she could almost believe she’d imagined this different side to Myles. He hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to her since they’d begun riding. If he disliked her company so, why wasn’t he headed straight back to Missouri?
With an amused sniff, she realized her questions had come full circle again.
“The horses need to stop soon,” Myles called over his shoulder.
“Let’s rest by those trees there,” Amos answered.
In the distance Delsie spied a patch of trees alongside the river they’d been riding beside—according to Amos it was called the Little Blue. She sighed with relief at the thought of a rest. Perhaps some walking would ease the continued agony of riding.
Amos drew alongside her and examined his pocket watch. Shaking his head, he grinned. “Look at that. An hour and a half almost to the minute. The man’s got a way with horses.”
Just not with people. She instantly regretted the unkind thought. “How long have you known Mr. Patton, Amos?”
The older man squinted up at the blue sky. “Let’s see, it’s been about seven years now. Right after my wife died, God rest her soul.”
“I’m sorry...about your wife. Did you have any children?”
“No.” A wistful look passed over his weathered face. “Not for wanting, that’s for sure. We hoped and prayed for a family, but we came to realize that God had other plans.” His gaze traveled from her to Myles. “Myles is the closest thing I have to family now. He’s the one who encouraged me to hire on with the Pony Express, despite my being up there in years—as he likes to remind me.” His mouth curved up in a broad smile.
Delsie rubbed at the back of her neck. As soon as they stopped, she’d wet her handkerchief, as Myles had done yesterday, to help prevent a sunburn. The longer she rode, the more she realized the impracticality of her stylish riding hat. Maybe she could trade it somewhere for a wide-brimmed one like the two men wore.
“Has