The Outlaw's Angel (Daughters of the Prairie 1)

“I apologize, Mr. Morgan. I didn’t know you were here, and I wanted...needed a drink of water.”

“Go ahead,” he said, buttoning his trousers. “And wash up if you want. I’ll pick us some berries for our breakfast.”

Though she longed to cleanse her body, even with no soap, she couldn’t undress with Bobby in such close proximity. “I’ll just wash up my face and hands. I’ll be fine.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, and he walked, barefoot, toward the boulders where his shirt lay.

Naomi stripped off her shoes and stockings and waded into the creek. The cool water lapped around her toes and ankles, tickling her. She let her skirts drop. So they’d be wet. They’d dry. She squatted and splashed water on her face and then palmed some sandy dirt from the creek bed and scrubbed her hands. When she’d drunk her fill of clean water, she returned to the creek bank, picked up her shoes and stockings, and headed to where Bobby sat on the dry dirt. She plunked down across from him and plaited her tangled tresses into a long braid.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her some berries. Her fingers still stained from the previous evening, she popped a few into her mouth.

“I’ll get you a clean dress when we get to the camp,” Bobby said.

“That’s not necessary.”

“Of course it is,” he said. “I can’t send you home in that old brown thing.” He cocked his head and raked his gaze over her, heating her skin. “You shouldn’t wear such a drab color. Blue. You should wear blue, bright blue or violet, to bring out your pretty eyes.”

Naomi looked away, embarrassed. “You won’t be able to find a dress for me at a railroad camp.”

“Oh, you’d be amazed what I can find,” he said. “I just have to offer the right price.”

Naomi dropped her mouth open. “But you said Sheriff Stiles took all your money.”

“Correction, angel. I said he took the money in my pockets.” He grinned. “Trust me, I keep the bare minimum in my pockets.”

Naomi couldn’t help but laugh. “Your boots.”

He winked. “My boots. And honestly, if your sweet sheriff’d had a clue what he was doing, my boots would’ve been the first place he looked.” He smirked. “But he didn’t, lucky for you.”

“And you.”

“Yup. And me. I need a new horse and a new weapon. I could go for some clean duds myself. And I’ll need money to pay your passage home.”

“Just how much money do you have, Mr. Morgan?”

“Enough that you don’t need to worry about me, darlin’, if you’d been inclined to. Bounty huntin’ can be pretty profitable. If you’re good at it.”

“And I suppose you’re good at it,” she said coyly.

“Angel, I’m the best.”

* * *

“Wh-Where exactly are we?” Naomi trembled and leaned back into the solid wall of Bobby’s chest. Two rough men eyed them as they trotted thr

ough the dusty railroad camp. Naomi knew the railroad wouldn’t reach Dakota Territory for a while. President Lincoln, may he rest in peace, had only signed the Railroad Act a few years ago. So what was this place?

“The workers have to blast through some of the rock here,” Bobby said. “It’s a dangerous job, but they’re well paid. I’ve passed through here several times, and they’re a good bunch of fellas, always willing to do some trading. I’m bankin’ on that today.”

Bobby stopped old Barney and hitched him to a post next to a ramshackle shanty. He helped Naomi down, squeezing her hand. She was strangely comforted by the gesture.

“I’ll take you to Bessie. She feeds this mass of men. The foreman’s name’s Ike. He’s a right nice fella. Married. A couple kids. He’ll see you get home all right.”

Naomi trembled and eased closer to Bobby. She wasn’t sure about this. “Uh, Mr. Morgan? Bobby?”

He smiled down at her. “Hmm?”

“Please don’t leave me here.”