Sourdough Creek (28 page)

Sam straightened and Cassie thought a teasing comment was coming any moment. She looked at him.

“Cassie, you don’t think I stole the claim from your uncle, do you? Or that whole cockamamie story of his? Surely, you can’t believe that anymore?”

She tried to look away, but his longing gaze wouldn’t let her. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Sam. Sitting here and holding your hand, it seems inconceivable. Then I remember that you would go so far to marry me just to get it, well—”

Sam sat up straighter and looked over her head for a moment. “Shhh,” he said, clasping his hand over her mouth.

Chapter Forty-Six

“W
hat is it?” Cassie’s eyes were huge as he took his hand away from her face.

“Stay here,” he whispered close to her ear. A ripple of warmth shot through him as his lips accidently brushed her skin. “I heard something.”

In the field one of the horses nickered, answered by Split Ear up in camp.

She grabbed his arm as he stood up. “It’s just the horses.”

“Cassie,” he said bending close. “I need to go check this out. You stay here where I can find you. Where I know you’re safe.”

He strode up the path, but stopped when he heard her quick steps behind him. He turned to meet her.

“I’m coming with you!” she said, a determined tilt to her chin.

“All right, but be quiet.”

Sam stopped suddenly at the meadow’s edge and Cassie bumped into his backside.

“The moon is too bright for us to go back the way we came.”

“You think it’s a person you heard? That someone is here?”

“Don’t know. But I have the feeling of being watched. If I’m right, and there is someone watching from the bluff, we’d be an easy target if we cross the meadow in the open. We’ll walk the perimeter and stay under the trees and brush.”

Sam took Cassie’s hand and veered to the left, ducking beneath some low-hanging branches. It was slower going, and much darker under the foliage. He tripped on a rock, but righted himself before falling. He guided Cassie past.

They stopped. Sam parted the bush they were behind and peered out, looking to the top of the bluff where they’d sat on their horses the day they first arrived.

“There.” He pointed.

Cassie strained to see what he was looking at. “What? I don’t see anything.”

“Don’t look directly at the bluff, just a little to one side. It’s easier to see that way. There’s one person, maybe two.”

One of the mares in the meadow nickered and an unfamiliar, deep call answered from across the river from where they had been sitting.

Sam felt Cassie stiffen.

“Could be the stallion,” he said. “From over there, most likely is.” He ran his hands down both sides of her arms to comfort her. “Don’t be scared.”

“What about Uncle Arvid? He’s in the camp alone.”

“I’ll bet he’s asleep. Can I trust you to stay here if I sneak up the north side of the bluff and see just who we are dealing with?”

“No. I’m either going with you or going back to camp to keep my uncle safe.”

“We don’t know that whoever it is means us harm, Cassie.”

“I feel pretty sure they do, them sneaking up after dark. This doesn’t feel good at all.”

“Okay, then come with me,” Sam said, thankful he had his gun strapped to his thigh. He bent over and continued on though the underbrush. “I want to get up there before they make their decision to leave or invade our camp.”

“Oh, that makes me feel a lot better,” Cassie mumbled as he pulled her along.

Her heart was about to burst. Cassie’s wasn’t sure if it was from fright, or from trying to keep up with Sam as he ascended the bluff. He was so far ahead of her now she could scarcely make out his outline in the moonlight. She paused for a moment to catch her breath, then resumed the upward climb.

She stopped next to Sam, who was barely breathing hard. “Did you get a look at them?”

“They’re gone.”

“Well, hell! Did you see him, or them, or anything before they left?”

Sam turned around and sat on the hill. Cassie could see the half smile on his face.

“When did you start cussing?” he asked, and then chuckled. “You must be picking up your uncle’s bad habits.”

“That wasn’t a curse. Just frustration. Did you see anything or not?”

“Just the tail end of two horses. With riders, of course.”

Exhausted and still panting, she turned around and plopped down next to Sam. She took a deep breath and held it. A few moments went by.

“Don’t you dare pass out on me,” Sam said. “I don’t want to have to lug you all the way down this hill.” He reached over and brushed at something on her cheek.

“Dirt.” His gaze melded with hers and the smile on his face faded away.

Desire smoldered in his eyes, and something more, too. “Oh.” It was the only word she could get past her lips.

He leaned in slowly, and then stopped, as if searching for something. She felt hidden in the darkness, the sky a blanket of stars above, the cold night air surrounding her. She glanced at his mouth.

“What do you think they wanted?” she asked, trying to be nonchalant with his face so close to hers. She slowly raised her eyes until she was looking into his. Even in the moonlight she could see the longing deep inside.

“Impossible to know,” he answered softly. “They could be other miners just looking for their claim, or they could be robbers, planning a little visit later.”

“Sam!”

“You asked.” He was so close now his words came out on her lips.

She felt sure he was going to kiss her. She hoped he would. As in the hallway at Grace’s house, when she’d melted in his arms. She could remember every delectable tingle. He pulled her close and nuzzled her face, his cheek brushing hers. He smelled good, like the sourball he’d been eating, broken grass, and the fresh earth under their feet. The darkness of the night coiled around, cocooning them protectively.

The owl hooted from down by the river. The sound was enough to break the spell.

Cassie sat up and straightened her clothes.

“I guess…” they said at the same time and stopped. He looked embarrassed.

“You go first,” Sam said.

She was thankful to be back on a normal keel with him. “I guess we should start back down.”

“Again, my thoughts exactly. Funny how we keep doing that.”

A shrill sound split the air, bringing them both up short.

“What in the blazes?” Sam shouted. “Look!” He pointed down the steep, shale-covered hill, and across the meadow.

It was the stallion. He issued another blast, and then galloped into the river, sending up plumes of water spray, and charged up the other bank to the excited mares. He circled them several times before halting.

“Come on!” Sam shouted, grabbing Cassie’s hand. They scrambled and slid down the steep hill, half on their bottoms, as their boots skidded and slipped. Dirt and rock gave way. Cassie’s heel caught on a root and she pitched forward, but Sam held her tight and kept going. They stopped before they got completely to the bottom so he could use the advantage of the height of the hill to see what was happening in the meadow.

The stallion reared and struck out at the sky before taking off after Arvid’s gelding. It didn’t take him but a moment to catch the hobbled gelding and with lips pulled back from his menacing teeth, take hold of the smaller horse by the crest of his neck and shake him like a rag doll. The gelding squealed loudly, wild with fear. He kicked out in every direction, trying to free himself of the devil that had hold of him. Breaking loose, he turned but was once again headed off by the angry stud and struck in the head when his attacker reared, lashing out.

“Oh, damn,” Sam said, surprised. He took off, leaving Cassie where she stood. He had to get to the meadow before the stallion badly injured or killed Arvid’s horse. He stopped in camp long enough to scoop up his rope, then ran through the brush and Manzanita.

Sam reached his destination and stopped. All was quiet. Well, almost quiet. The sound of a mare being bred was easily recognizable. He grabbed Cassie’s arm when she caught up to him, before she could dash around.

“Sam, let me go! I’ve got to help Meadowlark,” she cried, still unaware of what was happening.

“There’s no help for her now.”

Cassie yanked her arm free and darted a few feet into the moonlit area and stopped short.

“See what I mean?” Sam said softly from behind her.

The stallion snorted once as his front hooves hit the grass. He shook his head, lowered it, and walked a full circle around Meadowlark, smelling the ground. Arvid’s horse stood on the outer edge of the field, still trembling in fear.

Sam stepped next to Cassie as the stallion stared in her direction. He tossed his proud head defiantly as if to mock their efforts. His forelock fell into his eyes.

“Oh, my gosh, Sam. He’s so magnificent!”

Sam’s chest filled with emotion. Here was an animal meant for freedom. “My thoughts…”

“Exactly.” The word was said low, in awe, by both of them.

“Do you think he’s already gotten to your mare, too?” she asked.

“Only time will tell. If not, and she’s in season, he’d be doing now what he does best.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

“C
assie, stay here,” Sam cautioned as she started toward Meadowlark.

The stallion, his chest glistening in sweat, sides heaving from exertion, bit Blu in the hindquarters in an effort to herd her toward the river. When she moved only a few feet because of her restraints, he trotted over to Meadowlark, snorting and pawing the ground. One nasty bite to her mare’s shoulder and Cassie took off toward her horse.

“Hyaw! Hyaw!” she screamed. “You stop that!” She waved her hands over her head emphatically.

The moment the stallion took a step in Cassie’s direction, Sam drew his gun and fired into the sky, shattering the quiet night. The mares flinched at the sudden noise and the big bay took off toward the river, splashing across with dramatic flourish.

Cassie bolted toward her horse through the thick grass, anguish building inside. Even from this distance she could see several marks on the mare’s hide, left behind by the stallion. Sam caught her around the middle and tumbled her into the tall grass.

“Hold up! You can’t just run up to her like that. Both those mares are agitated and half-crazy right now. You’re going to get your brains kicked out.”

“Let me go!” In the softness of the grass, she pushed on his chest but he had her caught securely under him, his elbows resting on either side of her shoulders, his hands stroking her hair.

“I can see she’s hurt,” she tried again. She struggled against him helplessly. Before she realized what he meant to do, his lips were softly touching hers.

“Sam,” she whispered, less forcefully now, melting in a sea of desire. “Sam—stop.” It wasn’t much of a demand. He kissed her slowly, taking his time. His head turned, ever deepening the caress.

Just when she thought it couldn’t get any sweeter, he stood and pulled her to her feet.

“If you want to do something now, go check on the gelding,” he said as if nothing had happened between them. “He still looks traumatized and I’m sure he’d welcome your ministering. I’ll go catch him up and bring him over here. By the time you look him over, the mares may be settled down.”

Blu flipped her head several times and returned call for call with their dashing midnight marauder, who was watching them from the hills beyond the river. Meadowlark looked back and forth between the two, pinning her ears at Blu and doing her fair share of whinnying. She snorted several times and squealed when Blu came close.

“I take that back. From the looks of ’em, they may not settle down until mornin’,” Sam said.

He was right. Again. She couldn’t argue with his logic the way the horses looked. The mares out in the field showed little resemblance to the docile animals they’d been before.

“Okay, go get the poor horse and we’ll see what he needs,” Cassie said, her insides still wobbly from Sam’s kiss. “I think he took a blow to the head.”

“He did. I winced when it happened,” Sam replied. “He must have a headache the size of Texas.”

“Can horses have headaches?”

“Don’t see why not. Why don’t you go get some rags to clean him up with,” Sam suggested, as he started for the frightened gelding, the rope draped across his shoulder.

***

The next morning, after seeing to the mares and tacking them up in preparation for the trip up stream to get the boards for the sluice box, Sam put on a pot of coffee to boil and headed for the river. The weather was mild so he stripped naked after pulling off his boots and socks, and waded out into the chilly water, past the shallows and rocks, up to his waist.

Tensing his muscles against the cold, he splashed his face and ran a bar of red clover soap over his chest and arms. He dunked down once completely, submerging his head and lathering up his hair. He tossed the soap to shore and scrubbed vigorously to rid himself of dirt and grime and also in an effort to stay warm.

His teeth were clattering by the time he was satisfied that he’d done all he could do and scraped the excess water from his hair with his hands. He started for the shore where his towel was laid across a boulder.

The rocks, slippery with patches of moss, formed a natural route back toward the river’s edge. A few feet from land the water became shallow, barely ankle deep, but still treacherous from algae that grew abundantly so close to the sun. Spring air, pungent with the scent of fish and moss, gently stirred the leaves. The birds were waking with their songs and chatter.

Sam slipped. He caught himself with a nearby rock. When he glanced down he was drawn by a flash of light.

He stopped. Stared into the water, concentrating.

What had caught his eye? A brightly colored fish? No. It was something smaller, and much more intense.
Could it be
…? His heart thudded in his chest.