Of Men And Angels. Victoria Bylin

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      “That’s good, because we’ve got to get going. There’s going to be another storm this afternoon.”

      Alex glanced at the western sky. A wall of clouds towered in the distance. “I need to get a few things for the baby.”

      “I’ll do it.” He left her standing with the canteen and began gathering the clothing spread on the rocks. The fine silks and lacy unmentionables belonged to Charlotte. The cotton drawers and everyday skirts were hers.

      “Which stuff is yours?” he asked, picking up a red silk petticoat and holding it up for inspection.

      Irritated, Alex shook her head. “Just take cotton things for the baby.”

      As he picked up her plain drawers, a night rail, and a white petticoat, his lips quirked upward.

      No man in the world had seen her underthings until now, and her skin prickled. “You seem fascinated by my wardrobe, Mr. Malone. I take it you’ve never seen a lady’s undergarments before.”

      “Actually I have. Quite a few as a matter of fact.” He brushed right by her and stuffed the clothing into his saddlebags. “I’m not bothered if you’re not.”

      She shrugged. “I don’t suppose it matters at this point. Some compromises in life are necessary.”

      “That’s true,” he said, tightening the buckle with a jerk. “We can be in Grand Junction tomorrow if we start out now. Of course that’s assuming you don’t mind sitting in my lap for a long ride.”

      “I don’t have a choice, do I? Of course we’ll both ride your horse,” she answered steadily.

      “Fine, but you can’t wear that skirt. The bay’s too skittish.”

      “Is that so?”

      “God’s truth. I won him in a poker game last week. He’s not fond of me, and I don’t want to find out what he thinks of your skirt chasing after him.”

      Alex didn’t like it, but glancing at the bay, she suspected he was telling the truth. He went back to the clothing on the bushes and selected a pair of striped britches that looked far too wide in the waist for her.

      “Those belonged to the driver,” she said.

      “They’re yours now. You can change behind the coach.” Stifling a smile, he added, “I won’t peek, miss. I promise.”

      His words said one thing, but his eyes another, and Alex forced herself not to care about something as small as modesty. “Can you hold the baby while I change?”

      His eyes twitched, and he shook his head. “I’ll pack up, but you’re on your own with Charlie.”

      He’d named the baby after its mother, and tears pressed behind her eyes as she walked to the stagecoach, knelt behind it and set the baby down in the shade. His tiny face puckered, and an angry squall cut through the air as she stepped out of her skirt and pulled on the baggy pants. The length was tolerable, but the driver had been as round as Charlotte, and the waist was a foot too wide.

      Pulling the drawstring as tight as she could, she tied a sturdy knot. Then she tucked in her blouse and knelt down to pick up the baby.

      She would be holding him for hours, and so she took one of Smitty’s huge shirts off the impromptu clothesline. Laying the baby in the folds, she fashioned it into a sling. It wasn’t ideal, but the baby would be secure against her chest.

      “I’m ready, Mr. Malone.”

      He was waiting by the horse. “I’ll lift you up.”

      She had no idea that horses were so tall. “He’s big, isn’t he?”

      “Just average. Now take the horn with your left hand, hold the baby with your right, and put your foot in the stirrup.” His face knotted as he whispered to the horse. The bay was every bit as skittish as he had said.

      “Here we go,” he said. “One—two—three.”

      He flung her right leg over the horse’s rump, and she landed in the saddle with a thump. A second later he was behind her with the reins loose in his hands.

      She felt like jelly spilling out of a jar as she clutched the baby with one hand and the saddle horn with the other. The animal seemed ready to take flight, like Pegasus shooting through the sky.

      “We’ve got to get out of this gully,” Jake said. They were headed west into the sun where dark clouds were billowing near them.

      “It’s going to rain, isn’t it?”

      “Probably.”

      Alex nestled the baby closer. How would she keep him dry? Her heart lurched. She’d shield him with her body as best as she could, but soon he’d lose the resources God gave a newborn, and he’d need milk to survive. At the mercy of the elements and Jake Malone’s good graces, she could only pray they’d reach Grand Junction in time.

      The baby whimpered, and the heat of his pink skin soaked through her blouse.

      “Can’t you make him shut up?”

      “I’ll try.”

      Alex hummed until the baby settled against her chest, soaking the last bit of strength from her bones. She had gone without sleep for two days, and the bay swayed like a rocking chair. She couldn’t keep her eyes open, and she slumped against the outlaw.

      Jake Malone squeezed her waist and she jerked awake.

      “I won’t bite, miss. Just lean back.”

      “I’ll be fine.”

      Even as she spoke, Alex knew it was wishful thinking. Sheer exhaustion had robbed her of the ability to sit up. She was a little girl again, a sleepy child being carried to bed by strong arms, and she curled against Jake Malone’s chest.

      His forearm rested on her hip, and she could feel his fingers just below her breast. With the slightest pressure, he held her in the saddle. She felt every inch of him pressing against her back, every twitch in his arm, and the strength in his thighs as he nudged the horse into a faster walk.

      It was the closest she had ever been to a man. She had kissed Thomas on the lips, but they had never been hip to hip, knee to knee. She had no idea if Thomas’s muscles were hard or soft, if his back was straight or slightly curved, if his waist was thick or narrow.

      But she knew all these things about Jake Malone. There wasn’t a spare inch of flesh around his middle, his thighs were long and lean, and his forearms were all muscle. She could also smell his breath, a sour whiskey odor she remembered from a bad time in her childhood, and she knew he could change as quickly as the weather. Safe one minute, dangerous the next.

      Alex stiffened. She wanted to push his hand away from her waist and sit up straight, but she was exhausted beyond the strength of her will. She sagged against him, and with his arm holding her steady, she closed her eyes to the orange sun and faded into a dream.

      She heard Charlotte’s cries, the baby’s wail, the СКАЧАТЬ