Maverick Heart Read Free Page B

the grassy terrain. “How much chance is there, really, of their meeting up with Indians?” she asked the teamster.
    “It’s a gamble, lady.” The bullwhacker spat into the dirt again. “Maybe they will, and maybe theywon’t. Out here, the stakes are high. Lose, and you lose your life.”
    Verity’s hands tightened unconsciously on the reins, and her horse sidestepped. She didn’t care much for gambling. She invariably lost.
    Rand was an excellent shot, and so was Freddy, for that matter, but neither of them carried weapons. Surely they would stay close enough to reach the safety of the wagon if they were attacked.
    She shivered. This was a frightening land, brutal and violent. She hadn’t wanted to come to the Wyoming Territory, but once the decision had been made, there was no turning back. Every shilling she and Rand had was invested in this venture. The wagon held a year’s worth of supplies, everything they would need to set up housekeeping when they reached their destination.
    As for the land itself, she was forced to admit it was breathtaking. The grass grew tall and undulated like a green, wind-tossed sea. The vastness of this lonely place was overwhelming. They had ridden for two days without seeing another living soul except antelope and jackrabbits. It was difficult to believe there were murdering savages out there somewhere. And that this was going to be her home.
    Verity shivered again.
    Who would have thought that the only thing of value the Earl of Rushland would leave her at his death was a cattle ranch in the Wyoming Territory? Rand, who had inherited his father’s title, but nothing else, had been persuaded to come along tohelp his mother run the ranch. Only days before they left their homeland, he had chosen an English bride and brought her along with him.
    But really, this was the last place Verity wanted to be. Because
he
was here. Somewhere. The man she had once loved more than life. The father of her son.
    Miles had left England twenty-two years ago and never returned. She had kept track of his travels through stories that circulated among the
ton
. She knew he had spent some time on a whaler out of Boston, and that he had owned a sugar plantation in New Orleans. He had headed for Texas just before the War Between the States, and she had held her breath for four years while he fought as a member of the Confederate army.
    After the war, he had bought a cattle ranch in Texas. It was a year or so later that she learned through
ton
gossip that Miles had driven a herd of cattle north and settled in the Wyoming Territory. What she had never learned, what she had never dared to ask, was why he had never come home to England. She had lived all those years fearing that he would return, take one look at Rand—who had his father’s black hair and gray eyes—and instantly surmise the truth.
    That day had never come. She prayed it never would.
    Fortunately, Wyoming was a big place, so their paths were unlikely to cross. Nevertheless, she would have felt better with an ocean still separating them.
    When she crested the rise, the scene that greeted Verity made her stomach knot.
    Rand and Freddy were laid low across their saddles, fleeing a band of savages on horseback. There had to be at least ten of them brandishing guns. Their wild, bloodcurdling yells echoed on the wind.
    Her first instinct was to chase after them, but the teamster must have realized what she intended, because he reached out and grabbed her reins near the bit.
    “Let me go!” she cried. “I have to—”
    “There’s nothin’ you can do, lady. It’ll all be over ’fore you get there.”
    She wanted to deny his words, but before her horrified eyes she saw the half-naked Indian brave in the lead aim his rifle and fire. Rand jerked in the saddle and nearly fell off, but somehow managed to hang on.
    “He’s been shot! My son’s been shot!”
    She watched Freddy slow her mount enough to catch Rand’s reins and take off again.