A strange look flitted across her face as if she’d just realized what she’d done. She shook her head.
“You shouldn’t start something you don’t plan to finish, Lady Gambler. Only little girls do that.”
She opened her mouth to speak but evidently decided against it.
“Nothing to say?”
“I’ve already said all I need to say.” She clamped her lips shut.
For the first time, he noticed the bandage on her hand. “What’s wrong with your hand?”
“Nothing.”
“Well, nothing can turn into something real easy out here. What’s the matter?”
“Like I said, nothing.”
He shook his head. “You are one stubborn woman. What are you going to do with me?”
“I’m still thinking about that,” she retorted as she poured the rest of the coffee on the fire, making it hiss and spit. “If I leave you here, will you promise not to follow me?”
“Nope.”
“Didn’t think so. Listen, why don’t you just pretend this thing between us never happened? Give me your address and when I get the money, I’ll send it to you.”
“If you didn’t steal it, why would you do that?”
“Because you think I stole it, and to get you to go away and leave me alone, I’d send you the money. I figure it’d be a small price to pay to get rid of you.”
“Why should I believe you? About anything? You’ve drugged me, had me beaten, and even shot me. I don’t trust you.”
She had the grace to look embarrassed.
“And I don’t trust you either. So I guess I have no choice. You go with me. Get to your feet. Where’s your horse?”
“Don’t know.”
“You want to ride? Or walk?”
He studied her expression. Did she mean it? Probably. “Downstream. Just around the bend.”
She grabbed her hat off the ground and jammed it on, sweeping her hair up under it. She stomped off toward the river. After a few yards, she yelled over her shoulder at him. “Don’t try anything.”
“How am I going to try anything? I’m trussed up like a calf at branding time.”
With another glare in his direction, she turned and marched downstream. When she disappeared from sight, he tested the ropes. To his surprise, they were tight, damned tight. She continued to amaze him. His every movement sent waves of pain shooting through his shoulder, and he grimaced.
In a few minutes, she returned, pulling his horse and the pack mule behind her. She glared at him. “And you dare to call me a thief? This is my pack mule.”
“Well, I didn’t steal him. I ran across him about twenty miles back. I guess he got away from you, huh?”
“No. That dirty, low-down varmint I hired to be my guide left in the middle of the night and took the mule and all my supplies.” She put her hands on her hips. “By the way, how did you find me? Were you in cahoots with Otis?”
“Don’t know any Otis. I found you because I followed your tracks. I found the place you bought the horse and I followed you. It was like following a herd of buffalo.”
She glared at him. You got another shirt?”
He nodded. “In my saddlebag.”
As she marched over to his horse, he grinned to himself. He sure liked watching her walk in those tight pants. Almost made him lose his breath. She opened the saddlebag and pulled out a blue shirt. A few steps brought her to his side. She held the garment out to him.
He held out his bound hands and rolled his eyes—as she had done. Color bloomed in her cheeks. Ah, a small measure of revenge.
She hesitated, then evidently decided there was no other way. She pulled a knife from its sheath belted to her waist. A long, mean-looking, deadly knife. His eyes widened in alarm. With a muttered curse, she stalked back over to him, leaned over and with one stroke easily cut the ropes at his wrists and his feet.
He whistled softly. “That’s one hell of a pig-sticker. Where’d you get it?”
“I didn’t steal it if that’s what you mean. Now get your shirt on and get on your horse.”
For a moment, he considered refusing—he was used to giving orders, not taking them. Especially from a woman. But if she did leave him behind, in his weakened condition, and with no horse or rifle, he’d be easy prey for predators, especially the two-legged kind. He staggered to his feet, stomped to get the feeling back in them, and then shrugged into the shirt. He grimaced as pain shot through him, and he glared at her.
“I’ll go peacefully, but first I need to...you know...” He waited for her reaction with an irritated scowl. He wasn’t used to asking anyone, especially a sassy female, for permission to take care of his personal needs.
“All right.” Her face beamed beet red. “You can go over there.” She pointed to several large boulders. “Just don’t get any ideas.”
“You’ve got the horses and the guns.” On unsteady feet, he walked slowly toward the rocks. Once out of her sight, he hurriedly took care of his body’s needs, then walked around the area. He peered out from behind the rocks and saw her waiting for him, rifle in hand. There was no way he could circle around and come up behind her. He’d have to play the game her way for just a while longer.
He ambled over to his horse and mounted. The big buckskin danced under him, and he grabbed the saddle horn. “Easy, Buck, easy.”
“Buck? Is that his name?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s not a very imaginative name. Why’d you name him that?”
“Because the first time I got on him, he bucked me off.”
“I like him already,” she retorted. She pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face.
“You would.”
She climbed into the saddle, and he enjoyed the view. The pants did little to hide her curvaceous backside.
“Get going and remember I’m right behind you and my rifle is pointed at your back. Even I couldn’t miss at this range.”
He nudged Buck with his heels, and the horse plodded forward. “Tell me, Angel, where in hell are you going?” He had a hunch where she was headed, but he wanted to hear it from her. If she were indeed hunting her father, he would have to tell her—and soon.
“None of your business, cowboy.”
“Well, if you continue in the direction you’ve been going, you’re headed into some pretty rough country.”
“Are you trying to frighten me, Mr. Montgomery?”
“No. Just trying to warn you. You’re asking for trouble. A woman out here, all alone, it’s not safe.”
“If I remember correctly, it wasn’t safe back in New Orleans either.”
“But this is different. You’ll be in Indian country soon, and you’re going to need my help. I don’t know how you even got this far. You’d best turn back because you’ll never make it wherever you’re going.”
“Wanna bet?”
Chapter 5
Despite her bravado, butterflies fluttered in Angel’s stomach at the thought of Indians. She’d never had any dealings with them before and wouldn’t know what to do if she encountered them. She had no qualms that she could find the town of Deadwood. Even though the prairie stretched endlessly before her, its barren vista broken only by stunted trees and bushes in draws and ravines, she could navigate by the stars. The North Star and the other constellations would guide her.
But Indians?
All morning long, she watched for Indians, remembering all the horrible stories she’d heard. At the same time she tried to hide her fear from Evan. She scanned each rise, each draw, each ravine, for signs that they weren’t alone. Her nerves were stretched tighter than a drum. If someone had said “boo” to her, she’d probably have a heart attack. But as time passed and no Indians appeared, she relaxed and decided to stick to her plan.
Whatever that was.
Her swollen hand now pained her badly. Even though she hated to admit it, Evan had been right. What had started out as a mere thorn in her hand was now badly infected and needed
to be lanced.
At noon, she halted in the pitiful shade of three stunted oaks near a shallow stream. As she dismounted, her legs cramped, and she stumbled. She regained her balance, then motioned for Evan to alight. He slid from the saddle, staggered and almost fell. She noted the strain on his face, yet he hadn’t uttered one word of complaint all morning long. Her estimation of him grudgingly crept up a notch. After getting him settled against the trunk of a tree, she tied his feet. He made no protest. The loss of blood and the long day’s ride had taken its toll on him.
Because wood had become more and more scarce, she gathered some dried buffalo leavings and made a fire. Her nose scrunched up in distaste, and she hurriedly washed her hands. Afterward, she grabbed her canteen and poured water into the coffee pot. Soon, the coffee perked, its delicious aroma floating over the camp. She cooked slabs of thick bacon, opened a can of beans, dumped them into a pan and sat them over a fire. Thank God, Evan had at least found her pack mule and supplies.
All this time Evan didn’t speak to her.
When it was cooked, she ladled beans and several pieces of bacon onto a plate. She walked over to him and knelt beside him.
His weak grin sent guilt spiking down her spine. He held out his bound hands. “Guess you need to untie me so I can eat.”
“Nice try, but no dice. I guess I’ll just have to feed you.” But when she remembered her earlier reaction to him, how she’d touched his lips and kissed him, she hesitated. She must not let her physical attraction to him blind her to the danger he presented. If she let her guard down...
It was either feed him or cut him loose. Since she didn’t dare free him, she sat beside him and picked up the knife and fork. She cut the bacon into bite-sized pieces, speared a piece, and lifted it to his lips. He opened his mouth, and she fed him the morsel. Then again. Despite her resolve to not let her attraction to him get in the way, the look on his face mesmerized her. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his mouth as he chewed and swallowed, then licked his lips. How could watching someone eat be so...exciting...so sensual? Her stomach tightened into knots.
“Can I have something to wash this down?”
With a thankful nod that he’d broken the spell, she rose, grabbed her canteen and poured him a cup of water. She returned to sit beside him and held the cup to his lips. He took a sip, then another. “Thanks. How’s the hand?
Angel hesitated, wondering if she should tell him the truth. “It’s fine.”
“Liar.”
Without answering, she prepared a plate of food for herself, then retreated about five feet away from him. She ate ravenously, ignoring his stare.
“Did I ever tell you I like your hair?”
His compliment startled her. She lifted a hand to smooth back her tangled tresses, almost spilling the contents of her plate. “No, you haven’t.”
“Well, I do.”
“I don’t care if you like it or not.” Stop making me like you. You’re only here for revenge, and that includes my body as your prize.
He chuckled. “I know, but I thought I’d tell you anyway.”
“You’re trying to make me let my guard down. Well, it won’t work.”
“Just trying to make conversation to pass the time. I’d like to know more about you.”
“Why?”
“Always helps to know your prey.” He laughed. “Tell me, Angel, how you came to be a gambler.”
“Life’s a gamble, Mr. Montgomery. We’re all gamblers in a way.”
“That’s true, I guess, but what about you personally?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“You have to admit that it’s not a very commonplace profession for a lady.”
“I don’t have to admit anything to you.” She took a sip of coffee. “Why do you want to know?”
He shrugged, the slight movement bringing a grimace to his lips. “Just wondering. Where’s your mother? What does she say about your...occupation?”
A fist closed around her heart and squeezed. “My mother is dead. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know. So, tell me, where are we headed? You need to tell me for your sake as well as mine.”
“Why?”
“Because the Sioux call the Black Hills home, and soon we’ll be in their back yard. Haven’t you heard the news?”
“What news?”
“About Custer?”
“Who’s he?”
Evan’s eyebrows lifted. “You’ve never heard of General George Armstrong Custer? The late General Custer I should say?”
“Late?”
“Yeah. General Custer and his Seventh Calvary met up with a Sioux and Cheyenne war party at the Little Big Horn in Montana. He and all his men, over 200 of them, were massacred.”
“Ohmigod, that’s horrible. Two hundred?” Her voice trembled, and she glanced uneasily over her shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“The Sioux and a lot of the other tribes hate the white man for taking their land and killing off most of the buffalo. Can’t say as I much blame them. I’d probably feel the same if someone stole my home and tried to put me on a reservation. Any Indian caught off the reservation is considered hostile and subject to arrest.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The Sioux, Cheyenne, and the Arapaho have lived in the Black Hills for hundreds of years. They call it Paha Sapa, sacred ground. Then the white man came and, like always, wanted the land. So they tried to drive the Indians out. The Treaty of Fort Laramie in eighteen sixty-eight gave all of the Black Hills to the Indians. It’s a federal Indian reservation. But then gold was discovered. Miners and prospectors and land-hungry settlers flooded into the Black Hills like a human tidal wave.”
“It would be terrible to be run out of your home.”
“Yeah, it is. So, you see, everyone in Deadwood is actually there illegally.”
“Deadwood?” How had he known her destination? She tried to remember if she’d mentioned Deadwood. No, she hadn’t. “What makes you think I’m going there?”
He averted his gaze. “Logic. It’s the biggest city in the area.”
Something about the way he wouldn’t look at her and the tone of his voice made her suspicious. How had he known?
“But we’ve got to get there first,” he continued. “If the Sioux catch us, they’d probably kill me, but they’d do worse to you.”
“Oh, you mean, like you planned to do?” She arched an eyebrow at him.
“No. Not the same, I assure you. Not at all.”
Angel’s gut again tightened into knots. Was it true about the Indians? “You’re just trying to scare me into letting you go.”
“Nope. I’m telling you the truth. It’s my scalp too, you know.”
Before she realized she’d done it, she grabbed a tress of her hair.
“I’d hate to see you lose that beautiful hair.”
Her throat closed at the thought, and she opened her mouth for a deep breath of air. He’s just trying to frighten me, and he’s doing a good job. A damn good job.
“You’re acting very foolish,” he continued. “You’re only a woman. You should be at home taking care of a husband and a baby.”
“Only a woman? Since I’m a woman, I can’t do anything on my own. Is that what you mean?”
“I meant just what I said. Women need men to take care of them.”
“Bah! I think the fact that you’re sitting here, shot by my bullet and tied up by my rope, sort of puts a hole in that water bucket, don’t you think?”
His face flushed. “That’s because I was careless, not because you’re that capable.”
“I don’t have to listen to this.” She tossed her empty plate to the ground and jumped to her feet. “You’d best get some rest. I’ll be back soon. And just so that you don’t get any ideas...” She gathered all the canteens, then grabbed the horses’ reins. She made her way down river, looking for an Indian behind every rock and bu
sh.
Her lips curled into a frown. The arrogant man acted like she didn’t have any brains at all. She sighed heavily. Maybe he was right. If she’d had any sense, she’d never have made that stupid wager in the first place and she’d be at home on the Delta Princess. And if she had any brains, she wouldn’t have started out on a trip like this—by herself. Maybe she should untie him. But if she did, would he try to collect on his bet? After all, there was no one around to stop him.
As the animals grazed by the stream, she filled the canteens and strapped them to the saddle horns. With a tired sigh, she eased her body down onto a patch of soft grass. The pounding ache in her hand grabbed her attention. She pulled the bandage off and thrust her swollen hand into the water. The chilly water cooled the fevered flesh. She tugged her boots off and stuck her tired, aching feet into the cold water and pondered a course of action. If she remembered the map right, there should be a small settlement one to two days ride ahead. Maybe she should let Evan loose within walking distance of the town and hightail it back to St. Louis.
She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them. Whatever had led her to believe she could do this? She’d always prided herself on her independence and not needing anyone. But had she really been as self-sufficient as she thought? Grandpapa and Eleeza had always been there to get her out of her predicaments. The blow to her self-esteem smarted.
After a few moments of self pity, she composed herself. She had to go on—no matter what the risk. She owed it to herself. A course of action decided, she climbed to her feet and dusted off her pants. She wiped the telltale trace of tears from her face and returned to camp.
Evan was asleep, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. He’d somehow pushed his hat down to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. As she neared him, she stepped on some dry leaves which rustled beneath her feet. He jerked up, immediately awake.
She stopped in front of him. “Ready to ride, cowboy?”
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