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“I don’t doubt it for a second, Miss Harlow,” Matt said. He stayed where he was, not making any threatening movements, and so did Sam.

Frankie stepped out from behind the buckboard and leveled a rifle at them. Matt could see her slim figure fairly well in the moonlight, which meant she could see them, too. Judging by the easy, graceful way she moved, she hadn’t been wounded in the attack or injured in the wreck.

“Get down off those horses,” she ordered.

Matt and Sam did as she said, swinging down from their saddles and standing beside the horses, holding the reins. “Did you get a look at that bunch?” Matt asked.

“No such luck,” Sam replied. “They had already taken off by the time I could get around the end of the ridge. I didn’t even waste any lead hurrying them on their way.”

Frankie said, “You two could’ve been killed, you know.”

“So could you,” Matt said. “Looks like you might’ve come close when that buckboard turned over.”

“Did the team break loose and run away?” Sam asked.

“That’s right. Those horses probably didn’t go far, though. I can find them and ride one of them back to my pa’s place.”

“We’d be glad to give you a hand,” Matt offered. “If the buckboard doesn’t have a cracked axle or a busted wheel, we can set it upright, find the horses, and hitch them up again.”

“You’d go to that much trouble for me?”

“Sure,” Matt answered promptly. “It wouldn’t be that much trouble. Ain’t that right, Sam?”

Sam’s innate chivalry wouldn’t let him disagree. “We’d be glad to do that, Miss Harlow.”

She finally lowered the rifle slightly and said, “You two sound like you mean it.”

“We do,” Matt assured her. “Just give us a chance to show you.”

Frankie hesitated a few seconds longer, then lowered the rifle the rest of the way. “All right,” she said. “I’m much obliged for the help.”

She stepped back as Matt and Sam led their mounts forward. Sam handed his reins to Matt, then went to check over the buckboard as best he could in the darkness. After he’d inspected the vehicle for a few minutes, he said, “It seems sound enough. Let’s tie our ropes to it and pull it back onto its wheels.”

This wasn’t the first time the blood brothers had righted an overturned wagon. They knew what they were doing, and within a few minutes they had tied their ropes to the buckboard, made the other ends fast to their saddles, and had the horses backing away to pull the ropes taut. Matt and Sam went around to the other side of the buckboard and bent to get hold of it, then called out to their horses to back some more. With a creaking of ropes and grunts of effort from the two young men, the buckboard lifted and fell over onto its iron wheels, upright once more. Sam started checking the axles and wheels again to make sure their salvage efforts hadn’t done any damage.

Matt said, “I’ll go find those horses that ran off.”

“You’d better take me with you,” Frankie said. “They know me, and they’ll be less likely to bolt if they hear a familiar voice.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Matt mounted, then held a hand down to her, leaving the stirrup on that side empty so she could use it to help her step up. Frankie hesitated, but only for a second. Then she clasped Matt’s wrist and let him help her onto the horse’s back. She sat behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist to hang on.

“Which way did they go?” he asked.

“They were still headed west, the last I saw of them.”

“Then that’s the way we’ll go,” Matt said as he heeled his horse into motion.

Chapter 11

As they rode, Matt was all too aware of how Frankie’s firm, apple-sized breasts pressed into his back. The warmth of her breath against his neck and the strength of her supple arms around his waist made tingles of delight go through him. Despite her name and her mannish clothes, she was all woman—and having her so close like this was causing a definite reaction in him.

To make some conversation, he said, “Frankie’s sort of an unusual name for a gal, isn’t it?”

“Never you mind about my name,” she said. “Just find those horses. My pa and my brothers are probably starting to get worried about me.”

“Sure. Four horses, right?”

“That’s right.” She took one arm from around his waist and used that hand to point. “I think that’s them over there, isn’t it?”

Matt saw the dark shapes grazing on the grass where Frankie was pointing and said, “Yeah, I reckon so.” He turned his mount in that direction.

As they came closer, Frankie said quietly in his ear, “Stop here and let me off. I’ll go round them up.”

“I could probably lasso one of them for you,” Matt offered.

Frankie gave a little snort. “Spook them and run them all off again, that’s what you’d be liable to do. Just stop, like I told you.”

Matt brought his mount to a halt, biting back a comment as he did so about how bossy she was. Bossy she might be, but that didn’t make her any less lovely.

Frankie slid down from the horse’s back with an agile grace and ran lightly toward the runaway team. They were still harnessed together, so they couldn’t move that well. Matt heard her call out softly to them as she approached. The horses danced around skittishly for a second and let out a few nervous nickers, but then they settled down and allowed her to come up to them. She got a firm grip on the harness of one of the leaders. When he responded, so did the others. They followed docilely as she led them back to Matt.

“Here,” she said as she handed him the trailing reins. “Can you hang on to them?”

“Of course I can.”

“Move your foot out of the stirrup so I can get back up there.”

Matt gritted his teeth a little as he moved his foot. She really liked to give orders.

Frankie climbed aboard the horse behind Matt and took the reins back from him. Then they started toward the spot where the buckboard had turned over.

When they got back to the vehicle, Sam reported, “I went over everything, and there’s no major damage to the undercarriage. Whoever built this buckboard did a good job of it.” He reached for the reins. “I’ll get the team hitched up.”

Frankie slid down from the horse’s back. “I’ll do it,” she said. “They’re used to me.”

Sam looked at Matt, who gave a little shrug in answer to the unasked question of who had put the proverbial burr under Frankie’s proverbial saddle.

Frankie was as good as her word. She hitched the team to the wagon in a matter of minutes and had the buckboard ready to roll again.

“Thanks for your help,” she said as she settled herself on the seat, although to Matt’s ears it sounded like she had to drag the expression of gratitude out of her. “I’ll be fine now. You two can go on about your business.”

“Forget it,” Matt said. “Tonight our business is seeing to it that you get home safely. We’re comin’ with you, Miss Harlow, in case those blasted special marshals decide to jump you again.”

“I told you—” she began angrily, then stopped short. “What did you say?”

“That we’re comin’ with you in case those special marshals—”

“Hold it right there. Is that who you think bushwhacked me tonight?”

“Well, who else could it have been?” Matt asked. “We ran into a bunch of ’em earlier in the day, and attack-in’ a young woman seems like just the sort of lowdown, no-good thing those skunks would pull. Why, they blew up a whole cabin with a bomb just because some fellas were inside it who’d been makin’ whiskey!”

Matt heard the sharp intake of breath between Frankie’s lips, and an awful possibility occurred to him. Maybe that cabin had belonged to her family.

“Where was this?” she asked in a voice pulled taut with strain.

“A ways further west from here,” Sam replied. “Probably another three or four miles.”