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“Huh?”
    “I said what’s the matter? You seem troubled?”
    She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Now that’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. Strange men are out there, watching and waiting, circling like vultures, wanting to kill me for no fault of my own. Why should I be troubled?”
    “Oh, they don’t want to kill you—not yet anyway—not until they find the money.” His words were cruel, but she needed to know what lay ahead for her. He wouldn’t sugar coat it just to allay her fears.
    She moved to stand in front of him. “Tell me, Marshal, just how much money are we talking about?”
    “Well, they got about $20,000 from a bank in Tuscon, another $10,000 from a Wells Fargo job, about $50,000 from train robberies, and several thousand more from a few military payrolls. The list goes on and on. Probably about two to three hundred thousand—or maybe more.”
    She staggered backward and plopped down on a boulder. She cradled her head in her hands, a sob escaping her lips.
    He could almost feel her pain. For the first time since he’d started this job, Wes believed maybe she hadn’t known of the full extent of her husband’s criminal dealings. As the tears came, he told himself the tears could easily be a ploy. She wouldn’t be the first woman to use tears to get her way.
    Awkwardly, he patted her arm. “We’d best be going.”
    “I need a few minutes alone. Okay?” With a hesitant smile, she walked away and disappeared into the trees.
    The news had hit her hard. Wes chewed on his bottom lip, trying to be objective. It was hard to stay neutral when he wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, kiss her until the tears were gone.
    When she returned, her eyes were dry, her lips pinched in grim determination. “I’m ready, Wes.”
    “All right.” His admiration edged up another notch. She had strength and courage at odds with the slenderness of her body, yet a strength that didn’t lessen her femininity. “Let’s ride.”

Chapter Four
    As Naomi climbed into the saddle and followed Wes, she chastised herself for her weakness. She thought she had no more tears, yet here she was bawling like a baby. During the three long years behind bars, she’d done her share of weeping. The amount Roy and his gang were said to have stolen staggered her. How many lives had they ruined? How many hopes and dreams had they stolen? And how many lives had they taken? It would be unrealistic and naïve of her to think no one had been hurt—or killed.
    Wes had ridden ahead of her, giving her time to pull herself together. She studied his handsome physique, wondering what his real motives were. Was he really just a nice guy—’serving and protecting’ her? Or a bloodhound hot on the trail of stolen money?
    Or both?
    He angled in the saddle and glanced at her, raising his eyebrows in an unspoken question. She nodded she was okay.
    When the sun reached directly overhead, Wes stopped at a small stream, dismounted, and motioned for her to dismount. She slid from the saddle and led Jo down to the water. As the mare quenched her thirst, Naomi knelt, scooped up water in her hands, and splashed it over her face and neck. It dribbled down her chin onto her blouse, but she didn’t care. She stood and studied her surroundings. Not a single cloud marred the azure blue sky. The bright sunlight glistened off gold and brown hills while clumps of green trees dotted the landscape. The vast prairie stretched endlessly. She smiled to herself. She loved the openness—the feeling it brought. No walls to hold her prisoner. No one to tell her what to do, where to go and when. Freedom—what a wonderful word—what a wonderful feeling.
    Only the threat of the men following them dampened her spirits, ruining the beauty of the day.
    Noises behind her grabbed her attention. She turned to see Wes making a fire. She tethered Jo’s reins to a low-hanging branch of a nearby tree. She found the coffee pot, filled it at the water’s