Beloved Outcast

His arm came around her waist, and he guided her forward. “I not only brought the biscuits, but I made a quick search of the fort and found some jerked beef and tins of peaches. I didn’t want to take the time to dig them out earlier. Just because tonight’s a cold camp, that doesn’t mean we’re going to starve.”

Victoria yawned again, thinking that whatever Logan Youngblood’s moral flaws, he did boast some favorable qualities. Like kindness and an enterprising attitude.

He went to the unhitched wagon and entered it. It wasn’t long before he emerged with several blankets. He spread them beneath the high-wheeled conveyance, then raised his head from his crouched position. “Come here.”

She staggered forward, feeling as if she’d exhausted the last particle of her energy. As she knelt to slip beneath the wagon, every muscle she possessed cried out in distress. Again Logan’s hands came to the rescue. He absorbed most of her weary weight and drew her the rest of the way onto the blankets.

It felt so wonderful to stretch out. She closed her eyes, even as she felt Logan lay another blanket over her.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” came his low, disembodied voice. “I’m going to unhook your walking shoes. I noticed you slept in them last night. If we don’t get them off for a few hours, your feet are going to swell.”

“That’s nice…”

She thought she heard him chuckle. “You’re really tuckered out, aren’t you, little deputy?”

“Little deputy?”

“Since I don’t think you’re planning on earning a reward by turning me in to the sheriff when we get to Trinity Falls, I won’t insult you by calling you a bounty hunter.”

His words made little sense. But his tone was unusually warm, she thought. Even though she couldn’t see his battered features with her eyes shut, she suspected he might be smiling.

The blanket shifted, and a cool breeze rustled over her as he fumbled with the fastenings on her shoes. The sensation of being taken care of brought a tightness to her chest. A few unshed tears, the last of the torrent she’d released in his arms, trickled down her cheeks. His touch reminded her of her mother’s ministrations when Victoria was a child.