Foxfire Bride (8 page)

"You not only abused the fort's hospitality, you left our camp unguarded. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't fire your butts right now."

"Where in hell would your"Hanratty peered up and down the dark street"cargo be safer than in the middle of an armed garrison? Didn't seem to us like there'd be any harm in taking the night off."

"You've only worked two days," Fox said in disgust. "But you need a night off?"

"We figured it would be a long time before we'd get another one," Brown said, rubbing a shoulder. "We didn't think we were doing anything wrong."

"You swore to Mr. Tanner that you could deal with sleeping among Union soldiers."

"Well, I was wrong, now wasn't I?" A glitter came into Brown's eyes, and Fox stepped backward, frowning. Jubal Brown had impressed her as the weaker of the two men, but she sensed she'd made a mistake. For a minute he looked dangerous and crazy.

"Go on back to the camp," Tanner said after Jubal averted his gaze. "Start packing up." He gave Fox a glance that told her to remain behind. "What do you think?" he asked when Hanratty and Brown moved away in the darkness. "My instinct is to leave them and go on alone, but that would create problems of a different kind."

Fox scuffed her boot in the dirt. "If we didn't have the cargo," she, too, looked uneasily up and down the deserted street, "I'd say leave them behind."

Tanner glared at a point somewhere above her head. "They disobeyed. They broke the fort's rules. They instigated a fight."

"If you fire their butts, then we've got two angry and resentful gunslingers who know about the cargo," Fox said slowly. "Who's to say they wouldn't come after us themselves?"

His glare lowered and settled on her face. "I'm thinking the same thing."

"It's your call." Whenever he looked at her, Fox felt her stomach roll over and her mouth go twitchy. She started thinking about how handsome he was, and how long it had been since she'd been with a man. Sighing, she tilted her head, checked the sky, and guessed they had less than an hour before first light.

Tanner fell into step beside her. "Much as I'd like to leave those two behind, we'll keep them a while longer. See if anything else happens. Are you comfortable with that?"

That Tanner involved her in the decision both surprised and pleased her. When Tanner had insisted on riding out to meet Captain Brightman she had wondered if they were going to bump heads over who was in charge of what.

"I'll decide the route," she said, feeling her way on this issue. "You decide personnel questions."

"Someone is cooking breakfast," Tanner commented as they walked into the chaos that accompanied breaking camp. "I smell bacon."

Fox was glad he couldn't see her face as she rubbed her hands on her trousers. He was smelling her. "Not in our camp. We'll skip breakfast and settle for an early lunch."

Peaches was awake and loading the mules; she passed him on her way to the ditch to wash the bacon grease off her hands and cheeks. He lifted an eyebrow and Fox murmured, "I'll tell you the story later."

Without the gold, they could have dispensed with Hanratty and Brown. But they had the gold. Fox suspected this wouldn't be the only time she would regret those gold coins.

Forty minutes later she led them out of the adobe walls surrounding the fort, ignoring the growl in her stomach.

At midday Fox signaled a brief stop, urging the party to grab something quick to eat and allowing the animals to graze although there wasn't much forage among the clumps of sagebrush.

When everyone had slaked their hunger on biscuits and ham and cheese, and had gulped down cups of scalding coffee, Fox addressed the company.

"I'm sure you've noticed that we're being followed." Peaches nodded, but the others hid expressions of surprise by squinting at the low hills rolling away from the river. "I don't know if it's the same group of Paiutes tracking us, or if it's different groups."

Tanner took a spyglass from his saddlebags and scanned the horizon. "I see them." He handed the glass to Cutter Hanratty. "Will they attack?"

Fox shrugged. "All I can say is they haven't yet. We're about four hours from the Carson Sink. It was a pony express station before they shut down the express. That's where I want to camp tonight. In the meantime, if the Paiutes decide to take us on, we'll spot them coming long before they reach us. The groups I'm seeing are no more than eight or ten strong, so I'd say we're about an even match." She tossed out the remainder of her coffee. "Let's go. And keep up the pace."

Swinging into the saddle, she suppressed a groan. Her fanny was saddle sore and her thigh muscles ached like blazes. Two long days were showing how soft she'd become during her time cutting ice. And if Fox was stiff and aching, she figured the others were, too. But the men would never complain as long as she didn't. Hanratty and Brown, maybe even Tanner, would rather step into quicksand than let a woman best them.

"The situation can't be too bad if you're smiling," Tanner said, trotting up beside her. The sun blazed high and hot, and he'd removed his jacket, riding in a vest and his shirtsleeves. From the look of it, he'd have a sunburn on his arms and face before they called it a day. When she said as much, he shrugged. "I spend most of my life inside or down in a mine shaft. The sun feels good. I doubt it's possible to ride out here for any length of time without getting a burn."

He was right about that. There wasn't a scrap of shade along this stretch, and nothing much grew near the river. White patches of desert alkali had begun to appear more frequently.

"How serious is the threat of an Indian attack?"

"Hard to say," Fox answered, trying to recall if she'd put on Peaches's sunburn protection. "Brightman's troops are looking for the warriors who slaughtered the Watson family. The investigation keeps the Indians resentful and angry. If they get themselves worked up enough there could be more incidents."

"And we could be one of them," Tanner said, scanning the hilltops. Frowning, he slapped his reins against his thigh. "How in the hell do you see that far? You must have eyes like an eagle."

This was the second compliment he'd given her and Fox didn't know what to make of it. At least she thought it was a compliment. It seemed to her that eagle-eyed was a good thing to be. But she couldn't think of anything to say back to him.

"Have you been in an Indian fight before?"

Relief dropped her shoulders. Now she had something to say. "A few times. All the tribes have horses and guns now, but ammunition is difficult to get so they don't do much practice shooting. Unless an Indian is almost on top of his target, he's likely to miss his shot. But if they use bow and arrows, well, that's a different story."

They had left the fort in a hurry and Tanner hadn't shaved this morning. Fox noticed the dark shadow of stubble and thought he might look good wearing a beard. On the other hand, she preferred clean-shaven men.

She wondered if Tanner realized that even with a hint of the east in his voice and even wearing quality boots and clothing, he was as formidable a figure as Hanratty and Brown. And no one looking at the three men together would mistake who was the boss. Hanratty and Brown both depended on weapons to establish authority, but Tanner managed the same thing in the way he carried himself and in the confidence and superiority he exuded.

Some might label him arrogant in the way he took charge of matters or even the cocky way he tilted his hat, but Fox liked arrogant men. She didn't like men who mumble-fumbled over making a decision, or who were content to follow rather than lead. Of course, arrogant men could be hard to get along with since they had an annoying propensity to believe they were always right.

"Do you think someone will try to steal your gold?"

He turned his head to meet her gaze. "No, I don't."

There was proof of what she'd been thinking. Reason and argument would not convince him that he was wrong. He was going to have to learn the hard way. She hoped she was wrong, but she didn't think so, Maybe that thinking made her a little arrogant, too.

"See those trees ahead? That would be the station. There'll be good forage for the animals since the station is between a lake and the river. The grass is more abundant there than out here." Slowly she scanned the hilltops. "Looks like the day is going to end well." In fact it was impossible to tell. But if Fox were a Paiute she'd attack out here instead of letting the targets get within thick adobe walls. She figured her Indian concerns were over for the day.

The station was small, large enough to house ten men maybe, but not comfortably. Adobe walls enclosed a frame house and a corral.

"There's something eerie about deserted places," Tanner remarked as they rode into the enclosure.

Fox glanced at him in surprise. She'd been thinking the same thing. Already the house appeared derelict. One corner of the roof sagged and bricks had fallen from the chimney.

"The pony express went out of business only four months ago," Fox said, eyeing the house. Nature was harsh out here. It didn't take long for heat and cold and blowing sand to leech the life out of creatures and structures.

A quick inspection showed the house had been stripped clean of furnishings and anything useful. An odor of grease and smoke lingered in the walls.

Fox stood on the stoop examining the enclosure and concluded they'd be more comfortable outside than inside the house. She turned her head toward the adobe corral where the men were unloading the mules, about to call to them when an arrow chunked into the wall of the house. That the shaft missed her by only a foot was a matter of luck. If the Indians could have seen her over the walls, they would have been more accurate.

Swearing, she jumped off the stoop and hit the ground running toward the corral where her rifle was still in the scabbard hanging from her saddle.

"Indians!"

The men looked up as an arrow sailed over the wall and pierced the pannier on the money mule.

Fox swore. "See those platforms with the ladders against them?" The ledges jutting from the adobe near the top of the walls provided a view and firing site. "Scatter. I want one of you on each side of the enclosure."

Before she'd finished speaking, she had her rifle and ammunition and was running toward the front of the enclosure. Tanner was on her heels as she scaled the ladder and kneeled next to the wall. The sun was sinking but the adobe was still warm to the touch.

Below them, Fox heard shouts and laughter and whoops and thudding hooves as the Indians charged the wooden gate and fired arrows into the rough-cut logs.

"You know what that sounds like?" She let her voice trail and listened. "Kids. Just fooling around." She flashed Tanner a glance of irritation. "Cover me, but don't shoot anyone unless you have to."

He was in midprotest when she stood and stared over the wall. Sure enough, six young Paiutes painted like warriors were having a grand time. The oldest couldn't have been more than maybe fifteen.

"Hey," she shouted, feeling the ever-present anger rise in her chest and tighten her throat.

Tanner rose alongside her, leveling his rifle. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You go on home before you get yourself killed," Fox shouted in Paiute. Smiles wiped clean, the boys looked up at her dumbstruck, as if a tree had spoken in their language. "Arrows don't stand a chance beside rifles. Watch this." Raising her rifle, she put a bullet into a post out on the desert about thirty yards from the gate. The next shot went into the ground twelve inches from the oldest boy's feet. They got the point of the demonstration. The oldest boy fired one last defiant arrow into the gate, then hopped on his pony and they all rode toward the hills.

"You could have gotten yourself killed, standing up like that." Tanner's craggy face pulled into an expression of anger and exasperation.

"They were kids."

"Kids with weapons. What did you say to them?"

Fox dropped down the ladder. "I told them they looked real cute in their paint."

"Well, hell. Looks like we missed all the excitement," Hanratty said, coming across the compound. "I wouldn't have minded taking me an Indian scalp."

Fox rounded on him and poked him hard in the chest with her finger. "Listen and hear me good, Hanratty. You, too, Brown. You don't fire at anyone until or unless I tell you to. That means Indians, whites, soldiers, or each other. It's clear that you don't know squat about the situation out here, so walk softly." Furious with the anger that seemed to erupt whenever an excuse arose, she glared up into Hanratty's tight expression. "White men don't take scalps, Hanratty."

"Some do."

"You're right," she said, curling her lip in disgust. "Let me rephrase this. Decent white men don't take scalps. Now let's set up camp."

After supper, no one went immediately to his bedroll. It had been a long tedious day, but the incident with the Indians left everyone too charged up and restless to sleep.

For a time Peaches played soft plaintive songs on his harmonica, then Jubal Brown told a tall tale about camping in the Georgia woods with an uncle when it started to rain frogs.

"Little pale frogs about this long," he finished, holding his fingers apart about two inches.

"I'll bet you believe in fairies, too," Hanratty said, hunching closer to the fire pit. "Cold tonight."

For several minutes Fox had been aware of Tanner regarding her across the fire with an intent expression. When he turned his full attention on something or someone, it was like nothing else existed. A tiny shiver ran up Fox's spine and she wet her lips.

"Where did you learn to speak Paiute?" he asked softly.

The question caused her gaze to sharpen. More often than not, she was asked where she had learned to speak Indian. But Tanner either knew or guessed that while the Indian nations shared some words in common, they each had their own language.

"The first time I crossed country to Denver, it took me a year. I spent some time with the Paiutes, the Shoshone, and the Utes, and learned to speak to them." Modesty wasn't one of her virtues so she didn't shrug off her accomplishment. "I'm good with languages."