Part 11 (1/2)
”Leon!” she cried again. ”Come back!”
But all she could hear were his footsteps running . . . running . . . running.
CHAPTER NINE.
”Anna. Wake up. You're dreaming.”
She jerked awake. Rain pelted her face. The pounding of Leon's retreating footsteps continued. ”Leon?”
”It's me. Joe. Joe Denton.”
”What?” Darkness as thick as mola.s.ses surrounded her. ”Where's Leon?”
”He's not here. No one's here. It's just you and me and Shakespeare.”
”Shakespeare?”
”My horse.”
She swiped the water from her eyes, trying to see through the darkness. His horse? The rhythmic pounding of Shakespeare's hooves penetrated her consciousness. Hooves. Not footsteps.
Her heart began to slow. Tears mixed with the rain on her face. ”Where am I?”
”You're on a wagon in the Was.h.i.+ngton Territory.”
”Yes, yes. I know. I meant where in the Territory am I?”
”Oh. We're about two miles from my home.”
”It's dark.”
”Yes.”
”Isn't that dangerous? Won't we get lost?”
”No.”
Anna took stock of his arms cradling her and with a jolt realized she was on his lap. She jerked upright.
Tightening his hold, he held her in place. ”Are you okay?”
”Yes. I'm perfectly fine. You can let go now.”
”It'd be warmer and drier if you stayed put.”
”I'll be all right.”
”I know. You've got the coat. I was worried about me.”
”Here. You can have it back.” She reached up to shrug it off and discovered her arms were in the sleeves and its front had been b.u.t.toned.
Denton stayed her hand. ”I was joking. Sort of.”
”I wasn't.”
”I don't want it back. But I would appreciate it if you'd stay close. Two miles can last a long time when you're wet and chilled.”
She gently pushed and his arms fell away. Cold immediately rushed in.
”I'll give you your coat.”
”Absolutely not.”
She scooted off his lap, then sucked in her breath at the puddle of water that had collected on the seat beside him. The frigid moisture soaked through the fabric with alarming speed.
He pulled his hat low, but didn't offer it to her this time.
Leaning to the right, Anna stretched. A low groan escaped before she could suppress it.
”You all right?”
”Just a little stiff.” She carefully straightened her legs as best she could. ”How long was I asleep?”
”You missed dinner and supper.”
”You stopped to eat and didn't wake me?”
”I never stopped. Just drove right through. So we made good time. Since we're almost home, though, I'd rather eat there if you can wait?”
”Yes. That's fine.” She pushed her hair off her forehead. ”Has it been raining the whole time?”
”It just started up again.”
She squinted, but couldn't see more than a vague outline of Shakespeare. She couldn't imagine how Mr. Denton could see.
”Who's Leon?” he asked.
She gave him a sharp glance.
”You called out his name in your sleep.”
Flipping up the collar of the jacket, she burrowed into its folds. ”My little brother.”
”Is he still in Ma.s.sachusetts?”
”He's dead.”