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coursed through her blood. “Th-thank you. You c-came just in time.”
    “That was sheer luck.” He knelt, slid his knife under the rope and cut. “We’ve been tracking the gang for almost a month.”
    “You didn’t c-come because of the t-train robbery?”
    “No. Is that where he took you?” Mason felt the hemp give and he brushed the rope away from her delicate, slim ankles. “Lyle must have kidnapped you today. He wouldn’t have saved you for later.”
    “No, it happened this morning. On the westbound train.”
    “I see.” Sympathy filled him, as well as the realization that he’d saved this girl from a terrible fate. He pocketed his knife, began unbuttoning his shirt. “Were you traveling with family?”
    “No, it was just me.” Now that she was free, she sat up, crossed her arms in front of herself, brought up her knees for modesty’s sake.
    Oh, he’d caught a glimpse of her, ivory beauty and soft secrets. He did his best to avert his gaze. It wasn’t easy, not with such a pretty woman.
    “I was traveling to meet my husband-to-be.” Her teeth were clacking together, poor girl, from residual fear.
    Well, it would take her a while to calm down, and rightfully so. Nodding, he shrugged out of his shirt. “Here, let’s get you covered up. I don’t think your clothes can be saved.”
    “No.” She stared down at the mess of her garments. “Um, maybe if anyone has a needle and thread, I can repair my drawers.”
    “That would be a good idea, except I don’t carry needle and thread on me.” He retrieved his rifle, wondering if a leather needle would work. Likely Deeks, their resident tack expert, had one to spare.
    “Here, let’s get you standing up.” He waited until his shirt was buttoned up from collar to hem before he offered her his hand. When she took it, her soft skin warmed his. Her hand was tiny compared to his own. She was just a little bit of a thing, and the man in him noticed—even though he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since Opal’s passing.
    “At least your shirt covers the essentials.” She stood, the hem of his garment falling mid-thigh, exposing long, lean legs and her bare feet. “At least it’s dark.”
    “My men will be respectful,” he assured her, taking a moment to survey the campsite. It wasn’t the raid they’d been planning. She’d been an unexpected development, the priority the moment he’d spotted her in jeopardy, helpless with Lyle Folsom between her thighs. He’d shot instead of following the plan. He knew without asking that some of the outlaws had gotten away.
    “I don’t even know where I am,” she said. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
    “This is unsettled country, south of the railroad line.” He gestured to the campfire, where old blankets had been draped over a fallen log. “It’s a fair ways to civilization from here. Most of a day’s ride.”
    “I see.” She circled around the log, aware of her bare thighs, aware of the smooth clay and sharp rocks beneath her feet. A few bodies lay sprawled lifeless on the ground, dragged by the lawman farther into the shadows. Other outlaws were bound and gagged, and a few lawmen patrolled the campsite, searching in tents, going through packs.
    You’re safe, Callie, she told herself, but she still felt vulnerable, especially since she was mostly naked. She eased onto the log, found the edge of one of the blankets and pulled some of the scratchy wool over her bare knees. At least she was sort of covered from chin to toes.
    “How am I going to get home?” she asked. “I have to be at a wedding in a few days.”
    “Is that so?” The marshal eased down beside her, his nearness almost as hot as the heat from the fire, the orange light gleaming along his bare chest. She tried not to look, she’d never seen a half-naked man before. “Who’s getting married?”
    “Me.” She thought of the satchel left on the train, the one with the dress she’d made for her wedding day.