Something Blue

Chapter 42

Gabe

"Do you need to stop?" Katherine peered at him over her shoulder, that silly hat hiding her face from the silvery light of the moon. He didn't need to see her expression to feel the concern radiating off her.

Fighting not to roll his eyes, he waved a hand. "I'm fine, Kat. Stop fussing."

"You look pale."

"Katherine, we're riding under a full moon. Everyone looks pale in a full moon."

She harrumphed and twisted back to face forward in the saddle, her hips swaying gently with the horse's unhurried footsteps. He'd have liked to have moved faster but Katherine had insisted on this pace the night before, when they'd set out.

"You need to take it easy," she had said, as if he hadn't spent the last three days doing nothing but sleep, make love to her, and consume whatever food and drink she pressed into his hands.

Of course, to his utter consternation, she had been right. That first morning, when they made camp in a small cave by the light of the rising sun, it was all he could do to help her roll out their blankets before his body dumped him into an aching, restless sleep.

Even so, the mother hen routine was getting old, and he really did feel fine. A little weaker than he'd have liked, and his head ached a little, and his throat was still sore, and his voice was still wrecked, but he wasn't constantly hovering on the edge of a swoon like she seemed to think. It felt good to be out in the fresh air, finally moving forward.

Towards Isobel.

Katherine had spent the last three days explaining all the intricate details of the plan that she had glossed over in the beginning. It seemed she had thought of everything. As hard as it had been to send Isobel off with the Tuckers, she had determined it was the safest way for her to travel. Rebecca and Amelia had gone along, so she knew that Josh would defend their little caravan to the death.

Caroline had sent Tiff forward on a train south with a pocketbook full of cash, and by the time Gabe and Katherine reached Powell there would be papers waiting for them—birth certificates and a marriage license.

The evening they had left the cabin, Gabe had startled awake from a doze to the sound of three gunshots cracking the air, very nearby to the cabin. Katherine had only smiled.

"That's Mr. Tucker," she said. "Three shots means the search has petered out and we're safe to travel. Two would have meant we should stay for another day. Four, at any point during our stay, means they are headed towards us and we need to run."

There was little she hadn't considered, and the one time he'd voiced his displeasure with the risks everyone had taken, she had silenced him with a glare so hot he'd felt for scorch marks on his forehead.

"It's just such a huge risk," he had said, stubbornly refusing to melt beneath the heat of her annoyance. "The whole point of turning myself over was to take the attention off all of you—you and Izzy, the girls, the Tuckers... now you're all at even more risk than you were before."

She had only sighed, her glare dissipating as she cuddled up beneath his arm. They sat together on the pallet, backs against the wall, watching the stove. Her answer, when she had finally given it, had shut him up on the subject permanently.

"Well first of all," she had said, "the whole purpose of me rescuing you was to ensure that the attention, as you put it, remained on us—the ones who are running away and will never be seen from again. The Tuckers' involvement will only ever be a myth and the girls have been open for business since the night you were taken away—way too busy seeing to the influx of needy customers to have planned anything so bold.