Foxfire Bride (15 page)

"One of them is named Alfie Hinton. Don't know which one. One of them saved a Wanted Posterno drawing of a likeness on itbut the name on the poster is Russell Borden. Either of those names sound familiar to you?" She wiped snow from her cheeks and gazed up at him.

"Alfie Hinton," he repeated slowly. One of the men had recognized Tanner the instant he walked into the camp. "Alfie Hinton. It'll come to me."

"Did you find anything?"

He jingled some coins in his pocket. "Six twenty-dollar gold pieces. I'm betting they're mine." When he raised his head, he noticed Fox had wiped her cheek, leaving a red smear behind. "You're bleeding."

"Am I?" Frowning, she ran her fingertips over her face, throat, and ears. "Damn all! They shot my earlobe!" She looked up at Tanner in astonishment. "I felt something warm trickling on my neck and cheek, but I thought it was melting snow. Those bastards!"

Kneeling beside her, Tanner tilted the left side of her face to the firelight. A bullet had notched the outer edge of her earlobe. He stared at the curved notch without really seeing it, instead he pictured what would have happened if the bullet had been an inch or two closer to her face. Certainly she would have been disfigured, most likely she'd now be dead.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice gruff.

"What for? You didn't shoot me." She pressed her bandanna against her ear, pulled it back to look at the blood, then held it over her ear again. "I'd say I came out pretty well. Whichever one of them shot me is dead and all I've got is a little cut on my ear."

"It's more than a little cut, there's a piece missing." It surprised him that she wasn't crying from pain or vanity. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"It's starting to," she said, grimacing. "A piece missing, huh? But a small piece, right?"

"Yes."

She felt beneath the bandanna. "Well, it's not too bad," she said finally. "I never cared much about matching earlobes anyhow."

Since it was her earlobe, Tanner cared. If someone had to get shot, it should have been him. It was his gold, his father, his problem. Removing his hat, he shook off the snow, then pulled a hand through his hair and swore. This was his fault.

"I think the bleeding's stopped." Fox stood and pushed the bloody bandanna into her coat pocket before she pulled on her gloves. "Let's drag those thieving bastards out of the campsite, then we'll find out if they made decent coffee."

Tanner tried to see her ear through .the snow and poor light. Damn it. He was paying Hanratty and Brown to face down any thieves, but it was Fox who got shot.

"Or would you rather ride off about a hundred feet and set up a camp of our own?" Fox asked. "Personally, I'm tired and hungry. Ready for something hot to drink. I don't see the sense in abandoning a perfectly good campsite that's already set up."

He didn't either. The only reason he hadn't made the same suggestion was that he'd thought she might object.

In that uncanny way she had, she seemed to read his thoughts again. "I pride myself on being a practical woman, Mr. Tanner." A thin smile and a shrug finished her declaration.

"Practical women are a blessing." It was possible he even knew another one besides Fox.

Working together they dragged the two thieves away from the campsite. If he found a shovel in camp, Tanner would bury them in the morning. While Tanner brought their horses into the light and removed the saddles and bags, Fox returned to rummaging through the thieves' goods.

"I found a tent. Just one, but it will provide some shelter." Holding the thieves' blankets to the firelight, she examined them for rips and lice then nodded satisfaction before she set up the tent.

Occasionally habit kicked in with a display of manners and Tanner's immediate instinct was to assist her, but he checked the impulse. Whenever he rose when she came to the fire or extended a hand to help her mount or dismount or tried to take over her chores, his reward was a scowl or an eyebrow arched in offense.

Still, he was uncomfortable standing aside and letting a woman erect a tent, no matter how willing or how efficient she might be. His gaze sharpenedit was a small tent, a one-man tent. His mouth tightened as he considered the long night ahead. Fox would take the tent, of course, and he would roll out his blankets near the fire. With luck the wind wouldn't bend the fire to set his blankets aflame, and hopefully he wouldn't get buried in snow.

When Fox joined him at the fire, she handed him one of the thieves' blankets and he followed her example by wrapping the blanket over his hat and around his body. Once they were settled, sitting on a fallen log, he gave her half of the bread and cheese that Peaches had packed, and a strip of jerky. "Their coffee was awful. I made a new batch." Flames licked the bottom of a rusted pot.

They didn't talk while they ate, watching the snow hiss into the fire. Now that he had the gold safely in his possession, Tanner could let himself think about the disaster that would have resulted had they failed to recover the ransom money. His stomach tightened and his eyes narrowed into slits. His father's life depended on getting this gold to Denver.

He poured coffee into cups that Fox had washed out with the snow starting to pile on the ground. "Are you warm enough?" he asked.

"Hell no. Are you? I'm half frozen, but with the wind so high I'm afraid to move closer to the fire." She cupped her gloves around her cup. "Well? Are you going to say it?"

"Say what?"

"That I was right and you were wrong about someone trying to steal the gold."

Fox might not be fragile or dainty, but she was like all other women he'd known in wanting the pleasure of hearing him say he was wrong.

"You were right," he said finally, speaking through his teeth. "Satisfied?"

She grinned at him. "Actually, I'd rather that you'd been right."

"I figured it out. Alfie Hinton was a desk clerk at the St. Charles hotel in Carson. I kept the gold overnight in the hotel's vault. Apparently the manager was indiscreet." He drew a breath of cold air. "As you predicted."

"Are you going to keep Hanratty on the payroll?"

Tanner swallowed a sip of scalding coffee. "He's not the first man to get jumped by bandits," he said eventually. Shifting, he tried to see her face, but the blanket draped over her hat concealed most of her profile.

She nodded slowly. "Stealing the gold from one man, one woman, and an old man with rhumitiz would be as easy as picking seeds out of a melon. There's no way around itwe need Hanratty and Brown."

"It's more dangerous to fire them than to keep them." Which was a problem without a solution.

She nodded, her gaze on the wind-tossed flames. "Maybe Hanratty was humiliated enough over this incident that he won't let it happen again."

The snow appeared to be thicker. Like most spring snows, the flakes were fat and wet, accumulating quickly. Right now it seemed an eon ago that Tanner had been soaking in a steamy tub. The same thought must have occurred to Fox, but she hadn't voiced a complaint.

"Why don't you go ahead and crawl into the tent? Get some sleep." Sleep was the best healing agent Tanner knew. Moreover, she'd planned to turn in early if he remembered correctly. "Fox? You were marvelous tonight." He knew that he hadn't shot both of the outlaws. She'd done her part. "Thank you for coming with me, and I'm sorry as hell that you got shot."

"No thanks necessary," she said, her voice sounding peculiar as it did every time he complimented her. "And it was only a nick. Well, all right, a small chunk that I'll never miss." Raising her cup, she swallowed the last of her coffee before she moved the pot away from the flames. "We'll save the rest for morning. Damn, it's cold." Standing, she pulled the blanket around her and stamped her feet, then she headed toward the tent. "Are you coming?"

"You take the tent. I'll sleep out here"as soon as he found his bedroll. He hadn't seen it since he took off the saddles.

"Don't be foolish. I put your blankets in the tent."

Fox and Tanner quickly discovered the tent was too narrow for them both to lie on their backs. Fox rolled on her side, which brought her nose within two inches of the tent wall. The canvas smelled dank and musty, as if the tent had been put away wet.

Tanner shifted and hunched and finally spooned around her. When Fox gasped and went rigid, he said close to her ear, "This position gives us the most room and will probably be the warmest." After an awkward silence, he added, "But if you'd prefer, I can take my blankets outside and"

"I told you I'm a practical woman," Fox answered, staring at the tent wall inches from her face. This position was closer to comfortable than anything else they had tried, but

Layers of clothing and blankets bunched between them, nevertheless she could have sworn that she felt every muscle of Tanner's torso. She told herself that was impossible. Then Tanner's gloved hand slipped around the waist of her coat.

"I don't know where else to put it," he explained, sounding irritated.

Through her blankets and his, Fox could feel his knees curved up against hers. His arm was around her in a loose embrace. She licked her lips and swallowed. It had been a couple of years since she had been this intimate with a man.

"There's just no easy way to stuff two people into a one-man tent," she muttered. But he was right about this position being warm. The instant Tanner had curled around her, a wave of heat shot through her body.

"We wouldn't have this problem if I'd brought Hanratty with me."

Because one or both of the men would have slept out in the snow. "Now that I think about it, I just assumed I'd be the one to go. It's my job to get you and the gold to Denver."

"You have a habit of making assumptions."

His warm breath on the back of her neck made her feel dizzy. "I probably should have asked what you wanted before I sent Peaches off to fetch the horses."

"Actually, I was glad to have you along. Until now."

"I know what you mean." She assumed he meant having to share the tent. After a minute she asked, "Is my braid right in your face?"

"It must be off to the side."

His arm tightened around her, pulling her closer into his body, as if he were settling in for sleep. Her fanny cupped up tight against his privates and that was enough to widen Fox's eyes. Every nerve tingled and suddenly she couldn't stop talking.

"Have you ever noticed how everything gets silent when it snows, but even so you think you can hear it falling?" Lord she was babbling, but babble was better than wondering what might be going on with his privates.

"I've noticed," he said, the sound of a smile in his voice. "Is your ear hurting?"

"It smarts a bit," she admitted. "But it isn't too bad." That was also true. "Breaking a leg hurt a lot worse. Knife cuts and burns hurt, too. What's the worst injury you ever had?"

If something was stirring down there in his private region, she suspected Tanner would be embarrassed. If nothing was going on with his privates while they were pressed up against her fanny, then she would be humiliated. Unfortunately, the layer of blankets between them made it impossible to judge what was or was not going on with Tanner's privates.