Before they came to the crossing they saw a man fishing for his dinner with a pole in one hand and a rifle in the other. Degan rode toward him to show him Cade’s poster. The man shook his head but stared at Max, saying, “But you look familiar.” Degan rode on and paused again by a miner panning for gold, to show him the poster. Another shake of the head and they kept on going. They passed two Indian women washing clothes on the riverbank, but Degan didn’t pause this time.
After they forded the river they were making good time because many beaten trails were on that side. But eventually they had to slow down because they encountered other people on the trails, mostly new miners. With so much ore found around Helena and Butte, the newcomers were persistent in trying to find a claim of their own. Most of them prospected for a few months, and if they weren’t successful, they settled into working on someone else’s claim or went home.
When they reached the second river, they were able to ride even faster because of the long stretch of trail near it. Nonetheless, Max was beginning to think she’d underestimated the time it was going to take to reach Butte. It was early evening already and they hadn’t even reached the first lake. She wasn’t going to say it, but she suspected they were going to have to sleep under the stars tonight. Actually, she was dreading having to mention it. Fancy man obviously wasn’t a camping-out sort of gunfighter.
When they reached the wide stretch of flat land north of the first lake, Degan let her get back on her horse. She was too grateful to put some distance between them again to point out they still had a few more trails to follow to get back to the road to Butte. But they rode hard enough now that the big body of water came into view within minutes.
Quite a few camps were around the lake, mostly of miners, some still panning while the daylight lasted, some already cooking their dinner. They passed a family of eight, half of them children, who looked like farmers. Some loners, too, were scattered along the lakeshore. Max smiled as she took in the scene. A regular community was forming here. A lot more folks were here than she’d seen the one other time she had come down this way. The smell of food drifted on the breeze, as well as the sound of someone playing a harmonica.
Max wouldn’t mind spending the night there. She just had to tell Degan they couldn’t reach Butte before nightfall. They probably could if they started toward it right now, but she could lie and say it wasn’t possible. It would give her a chance to wash her other set of clothes. And it would give her one more chance to escape—if Degan couldn’t swim. If he couldn’t, and she got far enough out into the lake where he couldn’t see her anymore, she could slip out of the lake a safe distance away from where he was standing. She didn’t favor taking off without her horse or her supplies, but she wasn’t in a position to be picky.
But when they dismounted by the biggest group of miners, who were sitting around their campfire, she wasn’t so sure she could swim herself. She’d forgotten about those damn bee stings while she was riding, but was painfully reminded of them when her shirt scraped across the welt on her arm as she dismounted. Maybe the water would soothe the stings. And maybe she was desperate enough to ignore the pain.
She was debating whether to take the chance when a man said to her, “Ain’t you Max Dawson?”
He said it loud enough that more than one of the miners started toward her. She instinctively reached for the gun on her hip, but it wasn’t there! But Degan’s was. Suddenly he was standing between her and the miners with his gun in hand. He didn’t need to say anything. Most of the men sat back down and tried to avoid his eyes. One miner handed him back the poster that had been passed among them, but he did so hesitantly.
And then one of the men volunteered, “Check further down the lake, mister. There was a suspicious fellow that showed up the other day and hasn’t left yet, but I can’t say I got a good look at him.”
“Obliged,” Degan replied, and nodded to Max to mount up again.
She did so gladly, only wincing a little as her shirt scraped against the welts again. But so much for staying in this area without her gun—or Degan’s protection.
He led them to one of the loners sitting at a campfire. She didn’t recognize the man from any of the posters, so she was surprised to hear Degan ask, “Kid Cade?”
“No,” the man said warily. “And I ain’t never heard—”
Degan drew his gun. The man surrendered instantly, arms raised high. “All right, all right, that’s the name I go by! Just don’t shoot!”
Max rolled her eyes. Did Degan have that effect on most men, or just the cowardly ones such as Cade? She dismounted when Degan did and turned to look at the lake while he tied up Kid Cade. Her plan might have worked, despite the bee stings, but not with the miners aware of who she was. They’d no doubt help Degan fish her out. She sighed.
“Are we staying the night?” she asked.
“No, and make yourself useful and put out his fire.”
She moved forward to do that, but whispered at his back first, “How’d you know it was him?”
“His age, his demeanor.”
“What do you mean ‘his demeanor’?”
“He’s not a killer. He’s more a bungling thief.”
“I can hear you,” Cade grumbled.
Max kicked dirt on the fire while Degan saddled Cade’s horse. Degan told the man, “You might actually prefer prison to this. Regular meals, a bed that doesn’t get muddy when it rains. When was the last time you ate?”
“I ran out of money two days ago. The miners panning along the water were all spread out and fighting over borders like they could stake a claim on a damn lake. But when I showed up, they banded together and started posting a guard at their camps.”
“Because you don’t look like a miner and didn’t come up here with the gear for it,” Max guessed. “And you were planning to rob them, weren’t you?”
“Well, yeah. But I’ve been trying it their way instead. Even found a few nuggets, just haven’t been to town yet to sell them.”
“Some prison time might give you a new perspective,” Degan said.
“A new what?”
Max rolled her eyes again. “He means it might help you figure out this ain’t a good way to live.”
Within minutes, Degan was leading them away, holding the reins of both her horse and Kid Cade’s. Maybe she needed a new perspective herself. Now that she knew Carl was dead and the posse from Bingham Hills was closing in on her. But she still glanced back at the lake wistfully.
Chapter Nineteen
“I CAN SEE NOW WHY they call this place the richest hill on earth,” Max said a little in awe as Degan paused the horses to look down at the huge mining town. “And I thought Helena was as big as it gets up this way.”
“You combed the hills north of here but you haven’t been to Butte before?”
“I avoid towns, and roads.” She shrugged, but he appeared to be studying Butte himself. “What’s your excuse?”
“I merely avoided this one. Some miners that were temporarily in the last town I stayed at were from Butte and returned here to spread the word that I was in the area. I’ve already seen the results of that.”
“You mean that Reed fellow and his friends were tracking you here?”
“Among other encounters. Rumors spread too damn fast in the West.”
That was a definite complaint. Even if it wasn’t said with inflection, it still made her chuckle. “What else do folks have to talk about? You, in particular, make juicy gossip of the exciting sort out here.”
He glanced at her sideways. She stared back at him with a grin, daring him to deny it. But then Kid Cade grumbled from Degan’s other side, “I’m still starving, lawman. Can we get my ass to jail so I can get fed?”
Degan hadn’t tied Cade’s hands behind him for the ride, but in front of him. And Degan had given him half a loaf of leftover bread as they’d left the lake. That would have filled Max up, but then she hadn’t gone two days without eating. But she was in no hurry to get
to the jail herself.
They had made better time getting to Butte than she’d counted on. It was only dusk, but at this time of year that was still long past a normal dinner hour, and she was starting to get hungry, too.
“I don’t suppose you’re gonna feed us first?” she ventured hopefully.
Degan didn’t ask, Before what? He just said, “No,” and led them into town.
She sighed. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to find the sheriff’s office. Maybe for once it would be tucked away on some side street instead of in plain sight on the main street. And of course Degan wouldn’t unbend enough to ask for directions. Hours could be wasted in the search. She could hope. But this town actually had some signs pointing to places. She stared at one pointing the way to the train station.
She’d been managing to keep abreast of Degan even without her reins. “Didn’t know the Northern Pacific train had gotten this far. Luella said Helena wasn’t expecting it until next year.”
“The Northern Pacific isn’t here yet, it’s still making its way west from Billings,” Degan said. “But the Utah and Northern Railway got here late last year. It connects to the Transcontinental Railroad.”
“If you knew that, why didn’t you take it to head out of the territory?”
“You don’t see much of the country by train, and I’m in no hurry to get where I’m going.”
“Which is?”
No answer. She almost laughed. Heaven forbid they actually have a normal conversation that didn’t get cut short by his silence. But this time it might be because he’d reached his destination. Max tensed. She hoped the jail here had more than one cell. She didn’t fancy the idea of sharing one.
Degan had dismounted and was hauling Cade down from his horse. She got down quickly before he did the same to her. The sheriff or deputy, it was hard to tell which with his badge not showing, had been sitting on his porch, but got up as soon as it was clear Degan was there on business.
“Sheriff?” Degan asked.
“Deputy Barnes.” The man tipped his hat. “If you need the sheriff—”
“I don’t.” Degan handed over Kid Cade and Cade’s wanted poster to Barnes. Degan didn’t hand over hers. But the deputy was staring at her standing there at the bottom of the steps behind Degan. “You look familiar.”
Degan followed the deputy’s gaze and answered before Max did. “We hear that a lot, but she’s with me.”
“She?” The deputy said it. Even Kid Cade said it.
Max could feel the heat racing up her cheeks. But Degan came back down the steps and nudged her back toward her horse before he told the deputy over his shoulder, “I’ll come by for the reward in the morning.”
Degan mounted up and waited for her to do the same. Rooted in surprise, she needed a few moments to grab her reins and get back in the saddle. Her horse followed his without any urging, already accustomed to it. But she glanced back at the jail as he led them away.
She had no idea what had just happened and couldn’t figure it out no matter which way she tried. He hadn’t even taken her reins this time!
She moved up abreast of him to give him a pointed look. This was the one time she ought to just keep her mouth shut, but she couldn’t. She was too incredulous.
“So why ain’t I back there with Cade?”
His eyes were on the street, both sides of it. Looking for Reed? she wondered. Or just trouble?
She wasn’t sure he’d even heard her and was about to ask again when he answered, “I haven’t decided yet what to do with you.”
She waited for more, but as usual, she didn’t get it. But she wasn’t letting him get away with that this time. “Because you believe now that I’m innocent?”
“No, because you’re a woman.”
Her eyes flared. Was he kidding? He would turn down a thousand bucks because he used to be a gentleman and putting a woman in jail crossed some invisible line that he still adhered to? How did a man with principles like that ever even strap on a gun?
She shook her head. “So what are the choices you’re debating?”
“They aren’t up for discussion.”
She was surprised he’d even said that much. But as long as he was answering questions, she tried another, “Why did you tell Deputy Barnes I’m a girl?”
“For the obvious reason.”
She gritted her teeth. “Obvious to you ain’t obvious to me, or I wouldn’t be asking.”
“Because he’s going to remember why you looked familiar to him, but now he’ll dismiss it as just a close resemblance to a boy wanted for murder. Or would you prefer he make the connection and come looking for you?”
“Why do you even care?” she mumbled.
“I don’t. But I have enough people trying to find me. I don’t want eager deputies added to the mix.”
She had an immediate urge to turn around and ride in the opposite direction. She even had her reins to do so. Of course he didn’t care. He did things for reasons that pertained only to him and no one else, certainly not for her.
But one thing was still keeping her next to him. “I suppose if I ride off without you, you’ll still shoot me?”
“Yes.”
“So you expect me to just stay with you without any explanation of why I should?”
“For the time being.”
She was beginning to figure out that she had to read between the lines with him, or in this case between the words, because his “for the time being” actually said a lot. It said he might let her go—eventually.
That was enough to soothe her ruffled feathers, even had her asking in a more amiable tone, “So are we riding out of town now to avoid Jacob Reed?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t sleep on the ground when there is a bed nearby.”
She blinked. “That’s more important than avoiding getting ambushed by five men?”
“Yes.”
She started laughing. Fancy man took finicky to a whole new level, he truly did. But now he was giving her a hard look for laughing—at him. “You have something else to say?”
She grinned cheekily. “Not me!”
They had passed a couple small hotels on the way to the jail, no bigger than boardinghouses. He was taking them farther into the town, probably looking for a hotel comparable to that big one he’d stayed at in Helena.
They came to a newer-looking section of town that had brick buildings with various types of businesses. She guessed that there had been a fire here in recent years. Most towns went up fast, and fast meant building them with lumber. But it only took one fire spreading through a town to get folks to want to rebuild with more durable materials that wouldn’t go up in flames before anyone could even muster an effort to put them out.
Degan found what he was looking for and headed right for it, a hotel two stories high and big enough that it probably had at least ten guest rooms available upstairs, maybe even another common bathing room. He would want a bath even though he’d probably had one that morning before he’d found her. But one a day was a luxury for her, so she didn’t need one yet.
He paid for a room and food to be delivered to it, paid for a hotel employee to fetch some medicine for bee stings from the local doctor, even paid to have their horses stabled for the night before leading her to the stairway. She was surprised about the medicine. She thought she’d been hiding her winces pretty well, but maybe not. She was surprised by how many tasks Degan delegated to others that he could do himself. He must have had many servants at his command earlier in his life, and hotels such as this one with a large staff probably reminded him of that. Fancy man really had been a fancy man, so why would he give all that up?
They were halfway up the stairs when a man called out from below, “Are you Degan Grant?”
Degan turned fast, his hand near his gun. He was ready to kill. It was written all over him. The man who had spoken certainly got that message. Blanching, the man threw up his hands and blurted out
, “I thought you should know someone was here asking for you.”
“Jacob Reed?”
“No, it was a lady. She didn’t give her name.”
The man ran away. Whether Degan would have apologized for scaring him wasn’t clear, but he relaxed now. Max was still a little wide-eyed. Good grief, for such a big man, he could move quickly.
“Another woman friend?” she asked as they continued up the stairs.
“Not likely.”
“Someone looking to hire you?”
“I currently have a job, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Actually, you don’t, you just have a favor to finish. One of your normal jobs on the side sounds interesting.”
“Interesting for you?”
She grinned. “Yeah. I’ve only seen one gunfight. Bingham Hills never had any. We were too far off the beaten trail to have gunfighters visit. The one fight I saw was in Colorado. It was pretty dull, though. One man got shot in the leg, the other in the shoulder. They decided not to try again and went off together to find a doctor. So I wouldn’t mind seeing the famous Degan—”
“My usual jobs keep me in one place for a while. That currently isn’t an option.”
Her grin got wider. “But most of your fights find you, don’t they?”
“Is that how you want your freedom? Through my death?”
She didn’t see that coming. For the first time, she could tell he was angry. It emanated from him, his eyes gone stormy gray, his jaw squared, his mouth a hard slash. He had to be exhausted to let it show like this, and that was a good guess. He probably hadn’t got much sleep the last couple of nights if he’d been searching for her in Helena. Or maybe his guard was down because he’d almost killed an innocent hotel employee.
But she wasn’t about to answer him one way or the other when his death would actually set her free. He’d never believe her, might even get angrier if she said she didn’t want her freedom that way.
Chapter Twenty
Wildfire in His Arms Page 12