Loving the Lawmen

by Marie Patrick

  “Suit yourself and stay here. I’m heading for shelter.”

  It took him two seconds to realize that the silence was absolute. The very stillness of the air and the lack of birdsong forced him to believe her. He scrambled after her.

  They were picking their way down a steep incline when thunder boomed like canon fire.

  Ev’s heart leapt, and his gelding shied.

  Even Kat’s surefooted Indian pony sidled.

  “Geezus in a dress.” He leaned forward patting the horse’s neck as much to reassure himself as the horse.

  Kat signaled a halt and cocked her head. He sat there, aspens quaking around him in the rising wind as she listened to the thunder bounce and echo off the mountainsides.

  Pointing to the thin stream of run-off that wet the bottom of the incline where it met the next hillside, she turned to look at him. “We’ve got to get across that stream in the next two minutes. Flash flood’s coming.”

  She kicked her pony into a hazardous dead run down the slope.

  Ev followed suit. He hadn’t felt a drop of rain, but he’d seen enough to trust Kiera’s trail skills implicitly.

  The pliant aspens lashed at them like a thousand whips.

  The wind rose. The closer he and Kat got to the stream the more the ground shook. Twenty feet from the bottom a sound like an army in full charge came from upstream.

  Ev lifted his head to look.

  Rocks and uprooted trees boiled in a churning wall of water that covered both slopes to a height of nearly fifteen feet. They were going to drown.

  “Come on, Marshal, we can make it.” Her shout bellowed over the roar of the oncoming flood.

  He urged his horse for more speed.

  Kat’s pony was scrambling up the far slope as he hit the bottom, splashing through the stream that widened nearly as fast as his mount could run.

  He started up the next incline as, higher up, a flood-spun boulder crashed through the trees.

  “Duck,” he shouted at Kat, praying that she heard him.

  She bent low over her pony’s neck, but Ev saw the rock catch her a glancing blow. She slipped sideways and seemed about to fall off when she dragged herself back over her horse. Close to the top of the hillside, and out of immediate danger, her mount began to slow, but Kat weaved in the saddle. Ev held his gelding to a run, pulling to a halt beside the exhausted Indian pony just in time to leap to the ground and catch Kat as she tumbled unconscious from the saddle.

  Chapter Five

  With a single boom of thunder the sky opened, and rain sheeted down, turning the ridge to mud. Ev had no choice but to leave Kat and scramble after the horses before they became so spooked they’d run. He managed to get them tethered to a couple of young lodgepole pines. As fast as possible he removed the saddles, bags, rifles, and other gear from both mounts.

  He lashed one corner each of the tarpaulin from his gear to two pines and anchored the other corners with rocks. He covered the muddy ground beneath the tarp with Kat’s buffalo robe and tossed a couple of blankets on top of that. Then slipping and sliding he made his way back to where she lay.

  She was drenched—her skin cold and clammy. Fear, greater than any he’d known or imagined, slammed into Ev’s belly. Swallowing down the gut-churning terror, he maneuvered Kat into his arms and fought his way against the wind and rain to the tarpaulin lean-to.

  He fell bone-weary onto the buffalo robe. Soaked to the skin, they were also covered in mud. He let her slide from his arms while he sucked in enough air to allow his muscles to move.

  While he lay there he watched the rise and fall of her chest. At least she was still breathing. He checked her for injuries and found only a slight bump on her head. All things considered she was okay. However, she wouldn’t be for long, if he let her stay in her frigid wet clothes. Ignoring his own shivers, he set about getting her warm and dry. He was determined not to lose this complicated woman before he’d begun to understand her.

  The wet buckskins clung to her like honey on a comb. He did his best to keep his touch impersonal, but despite his own cold damp clothing, his body’s reaction to her pretty breasts and shapely hips proved very personal. It shamed him a bit that he would react like a randy buck when she was defenseless. However, the reactions were normal. He’d just have to ignore them and pray he wouldn’t suffer for too long. When she was dry, wrapped in one of the blankets, and as comfortable as he could make her, he did the same for himself.

  He left his boots and her moccasins inside the shelter beside the saddle bags to dry and dumped every other piece of wet clothing outside the lean-to. In that one glance beyond the tarpaulin shelter, he saw that the violence of the rain was slacking off—good. Then he noticed snow mixing with the rain—not good.

  Exhaustion overcoming him, he checked Kat one more time. Her skin remained icy cold. One blanket wasn’t going to be enough, especially with snow on the way. A fire wasn’t possible, and he doubted two blankets would be much better than one. Besides, he’d freeze to death sitting around buck-ass naked.

  Trying not to think too much about the rosy nipples and satiny skin he’d found beneath her clothing, he spread his blanket atop Kat’s and scrambled beneath the covers. He took her in his arms, wrapping as much of his body and his heat around her as possible. The wind howled and beat against the tarpaulin, but despite the noise Ev surrendered exhausted to sleep.

  • • •

  Something less than an inch or so of snow sparkled on the ground when Ev woke, reminding him why he chose not to work the high country unless he had to. Though his face was chilled, the rest of him was toasty warm, and he realized it was because the woman in his arms was burning up with fever.

  As a temporary measure, he scooped snow from the outside edge of the lean-to and sprinkled it around Kat’s neck and shoulders. Then he fished in his saddle bags for his extra shirt, denims, and socks. Dressing beneath the blankets was an awkward process, and the clothes were less than warm to start. However, by the time he finished he actually broke a slight sweat. He left the cover of the blankets, tucking them around Kat, and braved the snowy morning to take care of the horses.

  The day was bright and clear. The snow would melt off in a few hours. He’d need that much time to find enough dry wood for a fire and get some sort of sustenance down Kat’s throat. He vaguely recalled his mamma making a tea of hickory bark and forcing him to drink the syrupy stuff when he was ill as a child. However, he sat smack in the middle of a pine forest. He doubted a hickory tree grew within a hundred miles of here, wherever here was.

  That bothered him almost as much as Kat’s fever and injury. She was the one who knew where they were going. While he could probably get them back to the Shoshone camp at Lake Yellow Stone, that was at least three days, probably more without his guide’s help, in the wrong direction. The problem would have to wait until she was well enough to lead them again. His job until then was to keep her alive.

  He checked on his patient, gathered his sheepskin coat from his saddle bag, and set off to find dry firewood.

  He returned an hour or so later with a pitiful supply of twigs and small branches. He’d have to nurse them carefully to make them last, but at least Kat would have heat. He built the fire at one end of the lean-to. Once he had a steady flame, he placed a flat rock at the near edge of the small blaze. A pot of water got placed atop the rock and a chunk of hard tack was dumped into the water to make a thin soup.

  He shifted to check on Kat and found her staring at him, her eyes fever bright, her color high.

  “You’re awake.”

  She nodded.

  “What happened?” she croaked.

  “Here.” He handed the canteen over, helped her into a sitting position, and assisted her with the canteen.

  She drank deeply. “Thanks. Now tell me what happened.”

  He capped the canteen. “Do you remember the flash flood?”

  “Do I ever. I gather we made it across in time.”

  “You mig
ht say that. A stray boulder struck you on the back of the head. You managed to stay in the saddle until you reached the top of the hill, but you’ve been unconscious since yesterday afternoon.”

  “How come I’m running fever?”

  Ev explained about the thunderstorm.

  Kat nodded. Then her stomach growled. “What’s that I smell?”

  Ev smiled. “Hard tack soup.”

  Kiera made a face. “It could be skunk stew, and I’d still eat it. You think it’s ready?”

  “Give me a minute to check.”

  He served the soup straight from the pot. Kat insisted on feeding herself, and he figured if she could manage the spoon she might as well. By the time she’d taken ten spoonfuls of the liquid she laid back. “Tired. Can’t manage more … ”

  She was asleep before she finished speaking.

  Ev added more water to the pot and set it back on the fire stone. When he felt Kat’s forehead, she was still hot. Rest was the best thing for her. While she slept he fed the horses, scavenged more firewood, water, and some wild berries. In between trips back to the lean-to to check on Kiera and stoke the fire, he took time to scout their location.

  The lean-to was situated halfway up the top of a ridge—marching from east at its lowest point to west at its highest elevation—that sat between two cuts at the base of the Teton Mountains. The north face of the ridge sloped sharply down to the ravine where the floodwaters dwindled. The south face covered with lodgepole pines inclined at a gentler angle, giving way eventually to a stand of aspen that signaled a lake or other steady source of water. If he had to get them out on his own, he’d head for the aspen grove and follow whatever the water source was until he reached some sort of civilization. With any luck, Kat would beat the fever before he had to make that decision.

  Late in the afternoon, he returned to the lean-to and found Kat sitting inside, awake, dressed, and finishing the last of the hard tack soup.

  Her face was flushed, so he put the back of his hand to her forehead. “You’re still running a fever.”

  “I know. My whole body aches, and every now and then I get chills even when I’m huddled inside the blankets. Thinking is a real effort. I can’t seem to clear my head.”

  “You need to rest.”

  “You’re right, but we can’t afford to lose more than a day or two. I’d rather spend those in sturdier shelter; much as I appreciate all you’ve done to take care of me—especially keeping me from freezing.”

  Ev flushed. “I apologize for … well uhm for … ”

  “Good heavens, you’re embarrassed.”

  “Well, dangit, you should be too. I had to strip us both naked and hold you all night just to keep us both alive.”

  “We were both naked?”

  He nodded.

  She smiled. “Together?”

  He swallowed and nodded again.

  “Did we do anything else together?” She giggled.

  The sound would have been real nice if it weren’t directed at him. He bristled and narrowed his gaze at her. “What d’you take me for? Some kind of scum who takes advantage of unconscious women?”

  “No. I’m trying to thank you for saving our lives. I want you to see that you have nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about.”

  His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped open a bit. “Well one of us should be embarrassed. A man and a woman don’t usually get naked and not do anything together.”

  “Are you saying you wanted to, uhm, do something together?”

  “NO! Blast it! I’m not that kind of man.”

  She blinked. “What kind of man are you? I mean, well, I know some men prefer other men instead of women. Is that the kind of man you are?”

  He actually growled. “I’m the kind of man who doesn’t take advantage of sick, injured women, or indulge in any sort of congress with a woman whom I do not know.”

  “Oh. So you didn’t want to … have congress with me.”

  “You were injured. You’re still sick, and I don’t know you.”

  “I’d say you know me pretty well by now, Marshal.”

  “I don’t know you well enough for that, and you’re still calling me Marshal.”

  “What do you want me to call you?”

  He could think of a lot of things, none of them appropriate. “Quinn, or Ev—that’s short for my first name, Evrett.”

  “Ev.” She said it low and slow. “Is that good enough?”

  His name on her lips was way too good and could be even better if … But that wasn’t going to happen. He ground his teeth to keep from shouting. “It’s fine. Now get back under those blankets.”

  “Are you saying you know me well enough now for us to, uh, have congress?”

  “No!” What kind of woman asked a question like that?

  “Hmmm. Please tell me when you do?”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it again and turned away to put more wood on the fire.

  “It’s too late to travel today. We’ll leave at first light.” She lay back under her blanket. “I’m exhausted. Wake me when supper’s ready.”

  He let her doze until he had more soup and some biscuits prepared. He figured a lot of heavy food might not sit too well with her fever, and he’d rather not spend the night helping her out of the shelter to empty her stomach. Her fever still worried him. If she wasn’t better by the time they reached their destination, he’d have to find some way to get help.

  • • •

  The next dawn saw them guiding their mounts down the southern slope of the ridge.

  “Don’t you think you should tell me where we’re going?”

  “Nope.” Kiera wasn’t about to tell anyone exactly where her mountain home was. The trail she’d taken with Ev twisted back on itself more than once. He’d have plenty of difficulty getting back to her home from anywhere. Of course, the site wasn’t a complete secret. She’d filed claim on the entire valley and half the mountainside where she lived, but she’d used only her middle and last names—Boudicca Alden—and doubted anyone, save the marshal, would associate her with that name, especially since nearly everyone in Wyoming though of her as, Kiera Whitson, the infamous Wildcat. Ev didn’t strike her as a claim jumping sort and even with a written description, finding her valley would be difficult at best. As long as no one else realized exactly who she was, she’d be safe to execute her plans. She wasn’t about to risk that safety or her plans by giving anyone, least of all Marshal Evrett Quinn, guided directions on how to find her.

  “You’re still running a fever. What if you become delirious before we get to our destination?”

  She shivered inside the buffalo robe she’d wrapped around herself, hoping to sweat out the fever. Much as she wished she could deny that fever still plagued her, she couldn’t. “My horse knows the way, and I can manage if she doesn’t go faster than a trot. As long as I’m in the saddle, we’ll get there.”

  Quinn shrugged. “Suit yourself. Are we close?”

  “We’ll be there tomorrow noon at the latest. Depends on how dry the ground is between here and there. Ground’s been so dry this summer that snow melt runs off the mountain before the earth can absorb it. We could be delayed by another flood or a series of deadfalls. Just about anything could slow us down, but barring any hazards we could get there tonight.”

  “It’ll be good to bunk someplace dry and warm for a night or two.”

  Kiera couldn’t agree more and kneed her mount into a trot as the slope broadened into a shallow valley.

  But dusk fell before they reached her home, and they were forced to camp atop another ridge. The absence of rain or snow was a small blessing. They stopped early enough to create a solid windbreak with the tarp and gather enough firewood for two fires. Although by the time camp was set, Kiera was too tired to do more than force down a few sips of hardtack soup. She slept between the two fires wrapped in her buffalo robe, leaving the blankets for Ev.

  • • •

  Long into the night, Ev sat
, sipping coffee and watching the woman he was supposed to arrest for murder, arson, and horse thieving. She was a strange one. Beautiful, yes, but she didn’t trade on that beauty. Though the memory of her naked glory caused him no little discomfort. City raised, she chose to live in the most isolated country he could think of, with a few Shoshone as her most frequent human contacts. Practical to a fault. Nothing she had done from the moment she first walked into the Brown’s Camp Mercantile had been frivolous or wasteful, or even self-indulgent. Doing what she had to do to get free when captured. Traveling when she was ill, because the alternative was pretty much to lie down and die at the cost of an innocent man’s life, or go to trial without the proof she needed, which amounted to the same thing.

  The Shoshone called her Dabai’Waipi—Sun Woman. Did the name signify her hair, which he knew from photographs to be a blinding white-blonde, or from the photographs she took? She must be passionate about her photography. Why else give up ruby earrings just to get photographic chemicals? What kind of woman gave her passion to inanimate things like pictures instead of a husband and babies? He couldn’t figure her out.

  However, he was pretty sure she wasn’t the criminal she was accused of being. Crime, if you thought about it, had too many negative consequences to be a practical course of action.

  Eventually he gave up contemplating Kiera Alden, stoked the fires for the last time and lay down with his head near hers so he could hear if she called out or needed help in the night.

  • • •

  “Please don’t.”

  Kat’s whispered plea was so quiet that Ev almost didn’t hear it. He sat up rapidly checking the campsite for intruders. Then she begged again louder.

  “No, please. I promise. I’ll do anything you want.”

  He swiveled to look at her and was held agog by the sight.

  She sat in her shirtsleeves. Sweat gleamed her face. She held the buffalo robe at arm’s length, bunched material clutched in each hand.

  “This is wrong. You can’t be so cruel.” Her voice continued to rise. “Please don’t ask me to sell myself. I’m not a whore.”