Katy Run Away by Maren Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

this.
    Almost imperceptibly, Katy started to steer herself toward the Abilene. Reaching out, Cal tapped her on the shoulder and pointed toward the stationhouse instead.
    Her shoulders slumped, but she reoriented herself without a word and together they trudged toward the ticket box.
    The clerk glanced up from his paper and a flicker of recognition sparked in his eyes. He took in their disheveled appearances with a worried frown. “Did…did something happen to the train?”
    “Nope.” Cal pulled out his wallet. “It just got away from us, that’s all. When’s the next one come through?”
    “Not until Tuesday. The stage is due this afternoon, though. It only goes to Salt Lake City, but they’ll have far more frequent service to Wyoming from there.”
    “Sounds good to me.” He bought two tickets and then checked the time. They had hours yet, more than enough time to get scrubbed up, rested up and perhaps even a bite or two to eat. At the moment, it was a toss-up what he wanted most right now. A bath sounded heavenly. The idea of sleeping (even if only a few hours) in a soft feather bed struck him as damn near orgasmic. His stomach rumbled, quite effectively cancelling out all other concerns. At least until they passed the mercantile and he spied a ready-made dress displayed in the window.
    Cal paused on the sidewalk and looked at it. It was a simple gown, off-white cotton with patterned sprigs of grass and blue flowers. There was a touch of plain lace at the collar and on the sleeves. It would probably cost him an ungodly amount too. Briefly, he considered sending a rider to his ranch to fetch a change of clothes, but even at a full gallop, there was no way anyone would get there and back again before the stagecoach came and went.
    He looked down at Katy, wondering if the dress would even fit her. She was eyeing it as well, her expression a mirror reflection of reluctance. Heaving a sigh, he steered her into the shop ahead of him.
    The dress cost almost twenty dollars, a hideous extravagance that he nonetheless paid. He also bought a fresh shirt and a pair of jeans.
    “Mercenary bastard,” Katy muttered as they left the store.
    “Watch your mouth,” Cal replied, in full agreement. On the way to the hotel, he stopped to send a telegraph to Katy’s mother.
     
    Please disregard previous telegram. STOP Train escaped us. STOP Coming up on stage instead. STOP Will let you know what train when we reach SLC. STOP Katy is fine and will be home soon. END
     
    “There’s no reason you have to come with me, you know,” Katy said as they trudged across the street toward the hotel. “You win, all right. I’ll go home.”
    “Right.” Tired as he was, he still smiled. “Sure you will.”
    “You don’t believe me?”
    “Not a word.”
    She frowned; he chuckled and nudged her back, keeping her walking all the way through the swinging doors. Just before she crossed the threshold, she hesitated. He had to nudge her again and was so tired that he almost didn’t notice that she was looking off to one side. Following her gaze, Cal spotted a woman in an upper floor window of the Abilene, just down the street. The woman vanished behind a fluttering curtain, but not before Cal recognized her.
    Lowering his mouth to Katy’s ear, Cal said, “Don’t even think about it, baby girl.”
    Katy shot him a mutinous glare. Gathering her dirty skirts, she swept into the hotel with blue eyes flashing and head held high.
    Cal ordered a room and a fresh bath—his second extravagance for the day. “You can go first,” he told Katy (rather magnanimously, he thought) as they climbed the second-story stairs. The look she shot back at him over her shoulder said once more they were not in agreement. Cal let it go. She was tired, and so was he. Tempers were bound to be short and a little frayed around the edges.
    There were six upper floor rooms: three that faced the main street through town and three that overlooked the busy lumber mill