Read Online Apache Caress by Georgina Gentry - Panorama of the Old West 08 - Apache Caress - Free Book Online

call the mayor and friends at the state capitol before the day’s out.”
    The boy brushed his hair back with a gesture of defeat and frustration. “I just don’t know what to do! The lieutenant left strict orders before he went off, and he hasn’t come back–”
    “Then why don’t you just take charge and make things happen?” Sierra managed a sweet smile again and fixed her most haunting gaze on him. “Let a few wagons and carriages through until the traffic lessens. After all, you don’t really expect to find this savage riding across the Mississippi into Saint Louis in some lady’s carriage, do you?”
    The boy laughed with her at the silliness of the idea. “That’s what the lieutenant says, but the higher-ups. . . .”
    Behind them, the line of waiting vehicles grew longer. Sierra fidgeted, feeling the knife point in her back. The savage was right; she’d be the first to die.
    “Please, Corporal,” she beseeched, “if we all have to wait, I’ll be out on the road alone in the dark, trying to find my way. Who knows what will happen to a poor widow after dark on the streets of Saint Louis?”
    The whole thing was obviously too much for the young man to deal with. He threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat, turned and shouted at the patrol, “All right, men, let’s allow a few vehicles through until we get rid of this jam! We just won’t tell the lieutenant.”
    Sierra breathed a sigh of relief at the nods of agreement. The missing officer must not be too popular with his men. Lucky for her. The soldiers moved out of the way, waving her wagon through.
    It seemed to her as if it were a million miles across that bridge as the mule clopped along. Below her, a river boat moved slowly past, churning up frothy white foam on the brown water. She heard the hidden man sigh, knew he was tense too. Somewhere on the other side, he would release her. At least he had said he would. Suppose he didn’t?
    Craning her neck, she looked toward the water far below. For a split second, Sierra toyed with the idea of jumping from the wagon seat, diving over the side. No, that was suicide, since she couldn’t swim. It was a long way down and her full skirts would drag her under. She’d either have to trust Cholla for the time being or hope for another chance at rescue in the big city across the bridge. Merciful heavens, at least she was still alive.
    She reached the other side of the bridge with a sigh of relief. “Okay, I’ve done what I was supposed to do,” she said over her shoulder. “Somewhere on one of these side streets, I’ll let you out, and–”
    “How the hell do you expect me to find my way about in this maze? I came through this city on a train.”
    “You said you would let me go once you were out of danger,” Sierra reminded him as she brushed a wisp of black hair back into her bun. “Suppose I get you to a train yard so you can sneak aboard a freight train headed west?”
    For a long moment, she didn’t think he would answer her. The wagon moved slowly along a street in the shabby warehouse district.
    If he would just get on a train and let me go! Even finding a job and a place to live didn’t seem like such a terrifying challenge anymore, not after what she’d dealt with these past few hours.
    The man behind her put his hand on her shoulder, squeezed gently. “Let me think about it while you keep driving. Somehow I think that’s what Gill would expect me to do, try to hop a train. If so, they’ll be checking every freight car that leaves St. Louis.”
    “Uh-oh,” Sierra said suddenly, looking at the snarl of wagons on the road ahead.
    “What’s the matter?”
    “There’s a beer wagon overturned, barrels scattered everywhere. Police are trying to straighten things out.”
    “Get us through it,” he whispered, and once again she felt the knife against her back.
    A big Irish policeman on a bay horse rode up, reined in. “Dear lady, you’ll have to take your wagon another