Moon Racer (13 page)

Edmund stared at' him, and then laughed aloud.
"And you are going to tell them? I don't think
anyone would take your word against mine. You
don't frighten me, Kane. You'll do what I say,
when I say it."

Kane shrugged. "For the moment, my interests
are tied to yours." He paused with his hand on the
door. "You are lucky that I don't like the Hunters."

"Yeah," Edmund said, feeling satisfaction stir in
him. "It still sticks in your craw that Quince Hunter
stopped you from taking his herd of mustangs, and
you got all your men killed in that little struggle.
They also rounded up the herd when you scattered
them, didn't they?"

"Don't push, banker." Though spoken barely
above a whisper, the warning was clear.

Edmund looked into cold black eyes and knew
he'd struck a nerve, so he pushed further. "Isn't it
strange how many of your men end up dead? I
wonder if the ones you hired this time know to
watch their backs?"

Kane took a step toward Edmund, reconsidered,
and paused. "I know to watch my back with you,
banker."

"That very well may be-but you are safe as long
as I need you," Edmund said quietly, almost too
quietly. "What you need to remember most is to
stay away from Abby Hunter."

Kane touched the brim of his hat and smiled.
"She's not the kind of woman I crave-she's too
tame for me. But the major, he seems to like her just
fine." He walked out of the room with Edmund
following behind. "I'll be seeing you."

"Not that way," Edmund said. "Leave the back
way, and don't let anyone see you go. And don't
ever come here again. If I need you, I'll find you."

Kane's laughter followed him out the back door.
When he had gone, Edmund sank down on a chair,
his hands trembling. He thought of what Kane had
said about Abby and that uppity major. Could Abby
be interested in the man?

He had to find out, and there would be hell to pay
if Major Tremain got in the way of what he wanted.

Abby hadn't been able to sleep for worrying about
the stolen mustangs. Just before sunrise she tossed
the covers aside and slid out of bed. Most of the
men would be with her brothers, so she would help
them out by tending the stock.

It took her only a few minutes to dress and braid
her hair. She heard Frances stirring in the kitchen as
she walked through the house, not wanting any
breakfast. When she stepped off the porch, she
stared worriedly at the clouds that hung low in the
slate-gray sky. It would probably rain before the morning was over, and that wouldn't help her
brothers track the mustangs.

When she reached the barn it was dark inside, so
she lit a lantern and went to pump water. After the
horses had been watered, she took the pitchfork off
the hook and, with practiced aim, tossed the right
amount of hay to each horse.

She had reached the last stall when she heard
someone at the front of the barn. When she caught a
glimpse of a blue uniform, she thought it might be
Jonah. But when the cavalry trooper stepped into
the lamplight, he was a stranger to her.

"Ma'am," he said, touching his flat-brimmed hat.
"I'm Private Davies, and I was sent to get Major
Tremain."

She paused and leaned her cheek on the handle of
the pitchfork. "He was here, but he rode out with
my brothers. I can't tell you when to expect him
back." She went on with her work and tossed hay
over the last stall. "If you will wait until I am
finished, Frances will give you breakfast."

Davies grinned, his eyes following her graceful
movements as she worked. "I don't mind waiting."

Jonah and the men of the Half-Moon Ranch had
been out all night attempting to follow a cold trail.
There was not a tracker anywhere better than
Quince, and even he had lost the trail when they
came to the limestone hills. Whoever had taken the
mustangs certainly knew what they were doing.

Quince and Brent exchanged weary glances. They
both knew that it was going to be nearly impossible to meet the army contract unless they rounded up
more mustangs, and there wasn't time for that.

It was a bedraggled-looking group who gave up
the chase and returned home just after dawn.
Everyone went in different directions, each hoping
to get a few hours of sleep.

Jonah was walking in-the direction of the house
when he saw the horse with the U.S.Army brand.
He turned to look at the barn and, seeing the lantern
glow, hurried in that direction.

Abby was aware that the private was watching her,
but she chose to ignore him. He had a look in his
eyes that spelled trouble for someone-for her.

"You look like you know what you're doing. I
never saw a girl wearing britches and doing that
kind of work afore."

"Is that so?"

He grinned and moved closer to her, lifting her
braid and working it through his fingers. "You ever
do anything fun in the hay-anything with a man
who knows what he's doing?"

She turned to him, and at the same time brought
the prongs of the pitchfork within inches of his
chest. "If you think I won't use this, you are sadly
mistaken. Let go of my hair-now!"

He dropped her braid and stepped back, coming
up against the stall gate, unable to move any farther
away. "I was only funning. I wouldn't of done
anything unless you'd of agreed to it."

The pitchfork moved up to his neck, and she
rested the sharp points against his throat. "Let's just say I don't like your idea of fun-I don't find you
humorous at all."

Abby heard the crunch of boots and glanced into
Jonah's glacier-blue eyes. He seemed to be
assessing the situation before he stepped forward to
take the pitchfork from her, throwing it harmlessly
to the ground.

"Have you nothing better to do than to terrorize
my men?" Jonah said bitingly.

"Just keep him away-from me." Abby was
furious at the trooper for taking such liberties with
her, but angrier with Jonah because he was
defending the man.

She shoved past him and stopped to glare at
Private Davies. "Never set foot on the Half-Moon
again. If I see you here, I will finish what I started."

Jonah watched her stalk out of the barn before he
turned his attention to the private. "What did you
say to her?" Jonah demanded, ready to disembowel
the private. Now that he'd had a moment to think,
he knew Abby would not attack anyone without a
reason.

He snapped to attention. "I... just...
implied that I'd like to... that... do something
in the hay. Maybe I touched her hair a bit, sir."

Jonah grabbed Davies by the shirtfront and jerked
him forward, his jaw muscles taut with anger. "You
just bought yourself more trouble than you can handle, trooper. You are never to go near Miss Hunter
again, or even speak to her. Is that clear, soldier?"

"Yes, sir. But she's so pretty she got my blood to
boiling."

"Cool down, mister. I will deal with you later.
But for now, do you have a message for me?"

Davies knew he was in real trouble when he saw
the anger brewing in the major's eyes. Yep, trouble
was coming his way, all right, but Major Tremain
would tend to business first. "Yes, sir. Sergeant
MacDougall said I was to tell you there's a ranger
in town, sent to help... you, sir."

Jonah released him, and he fell backward,
catching himself on a railing to break his fall.

"Go back to town and tell the sergeant I will be
there directly. Then you can wait for me in the hotel
room.

The young trooper saluted and hurried away.
Yeah, he was in bad trouble.

Abby scrubbed with wide strokes, taking her anger
out on the oak table. She dipped her cloth in the
suds, wrung it out, and continued her task.

She heard bootsteps outside the kitchen and didn't
bother to look up when Jonah entered the room.

He leaned a shoulder against the wall and
watched her for a moment before he said, "If you
continue scrubbing that hard you'll likely take the
finish off the wood."

She blew a stray strand of hair out of her face.
"It's nothing to you."

He pushed himself away from the wall and came
up beside her. "Do you want to tell me what Private
Davies did or said that forced you to defend
yourself?"

"No."

She dipped her rag in the water, not bothering to
wring it out and not caring that she splashed sudsy
water on Jonah's nice shiny boots. "All I ask of you
is to keep that vile man away from me."

He reached for her hand and took the rag, tossing
it into the water. Turning her resisting body toward
him, he looked into her eyes. "I need to know what
he did so I can make the punishment fit the crime."

"Then ask him."

He released her and stepped away, and his
restless pacing seemed to fill the room. "The private
has already indicated he behaved improperly
toward you."

She watched him take a limping step, and he
looked so weary her heart went out to him. It was
with effort on her part that she was able to keep her
head up and her spine straight. "This has happened
to me before with men who think they can say
anything to me. I can take care of myself, as you
saw when you entered the barn."

He inhaled softly. "What would you have done,
Abby-run him through with the pitchfork?"

She shook her head. "I wouldn't have hurt him,
but I wouldn't have let him hurt me either. I'm so
tired of men thinking they can touch me and say
improper things to me just because my father..."
Her lips trembled from the effort she was expending
to keep from crying. "If my brothers knew what
your trooper said to me, they would... they
would..." Her eyes widened with concern. "Please
don't say anything to them about what happened."

He stopped in front of her and took her into his
arms. He felt her melt against him. "I myself would
kill anyone who harmed a hair on your head, Abby."

She closed her eyes, feeling the comfort of his
shoulder beneath her cheek. A sob was building up
inside, so she clamped her lips shut.

His hand drifted across her shoulder, and he
planted a soft kiss on her hair. "I have to leave now.
I'll be in Diablo for a few days if you should need
me for anything."

She frowned "Why are you going away?"

"Something needs my attention at the moment.
But tell Quince I'll be back by Thursday so I can
help him look for the mustangs. He said there were
several hidden canyons and valleys where we could
look."

"It could take a long time, or we may never find
them."

He stepped away from her. "Be assured I will
deal with the private in my own way, and please
accept my apology. I am sorry that someone
connected with me has caused you distress. And
I'm sorry for what I said at first."

She moved stiffly back to the bucket and dipped
her hand into the soapy water to retrieve her scrub
rag. She centered her concentration on the table as
she listened to him walk out of the room. In her
mind she could picture him packing his gear and
riding away.

Throwing the rag down, she ran out the back door
and toward the barn. She didn't want to watch him leave, because she might never see him again.

He said he would come back, but what if he
didn't?

She covered her eyes with her hands. And what if
he did come back-what then?

When Jonah reached the hotel, he took the steps
two at a time in spite of his limp. His anger had
been smoldering during his ride to Diablo, and it
was now in full flame. Without knocking, he thrust
open the door to Davies's room and stood on the
threshold, glaring at the private.

"You have some explaining to do, trooper!"

Davies had been nervously polishing his sword
and rose to his feet, the sword clattering to the floor.
"Yes, sir."

MacDougall, whose room was across the hall,
heard the commotion and came to see what was
happening. "Is there trouble, Major?"

"He didn't tell you?"

MacDougall shook his head. "No, sir, he didn't."

Jonah glared at his sergeant. "I told you to choose
someone to come with us who would be of use to
me." He pointed at Davies. "That man is a disgrace
to the uniform he wears."

MacDougall's head snapped around, and he stared
hard at the private whose body now visibly shook
with tremors. "Can I ask what he's done, sir?"

"You tell him, Private," Jonah ordered, feeling
sick inside for the pain the young man's actions had
caused Abby.

Davies couldn't seem to find a comfortable place
to put his hands-he straightened his collar,
fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt, and, at last,
clasped them behind him.

"I'm waiting," MacDougall's voice boomed out.

"I there was this pretty gal-she wasn't a
lady or anything, 'cause she was wearing britches. I
saw her there in the barn, and I wanted to... I
thought she might oblige me by taking off her-"