“Something wrong?” asked Quinn.
Kiera shook her head. “Just orienting myself, making certain we’re in the right spot and headed in the right direction.”
“You sure you know the way?”
“Rock certain.” A chill shook her. “From here, my horse could find the way even if I were comatose.”
“Let’s get going then, before we have to put your horse to the test.”
“Okay, but I want you to put your gelding on a leader and tie him to mine.”
“Why?”
“The ridgeline is wide and blocks the wind from blowing straight down into the next valley, so this fog is always here. It’s very thick, and at times you won’t be able to see your hand before your face. You could wander for days before you found the way down. Even then you might not find the trail that leads to my home. If we don’t want to get separated, your mount needs to be tied to mine.”
“Okay.” Ev linked the horses as she’d asked then returned to his saddle.
“Ready?”
“Yep.”
She kneed her mount forward and was swallowed in the fog before Quinn’s gelding lifted a hoof to follow.
Not even pretending to guide his horse while riding in such a thick mist created an eerie sensation. Birds still chirped, and small creatures scurried through underbrush that he couldn’t see. He felt a lot like he felt around Kat — certain that something unique was there but unable to penetrate the outer layers to discover the treasure beneath.
Eventually the trail began to slope downward and the fog thinned, disappearing as they lost altitude.
Kat pulled up on a rocky out-cropping. “Have a look, while you remove the lead rein.”
Ev dismounted, ambled over to stand beside her and her horse as he detached the rein, and looked out beyond the edge of the outcrop.
“Wow.”
He’d seen strikingly pretty sights before — the western territories were littered with dramatic scenery — but nothing had prepared him for the sight of the valley spread before them. A carpet of drought gilded grass covered the basin floor. A line of trees on the far side indicated a water source and told Ev that in years without drought, the valley would be emerald green. Toward the end farthest from his vantage point a small cluster of buildings and cleared land poised on the edge of a stream that sparkled in the sun. He followed the line of the stream back to where a waterfall tumbled from the mountainside.
“Welcome to my home.”
“Your home? I thought you lived with the Shoshone?”
She shook her head and began to turn her mount. “They would be happy to have me, but I have a penchant for solitude.”
Ev returned to his saddle. “How long have you been here?”
“A little less than a year and a half.”
“And you’ve built all that,” he referred to the clearing with the buildings.
“No. I found that.”
“You found what looks to be an entire town.”
“It was once, a mining town established during the Eighteen Sixty-Seven Wyoming gold rush. It’s a ghost town now.”
“What was it called?”
She shrugged. “The Shoshone and I call it Smoke Valley because the cloud cover on the ridges is thick like smoke. I don’t think the town was ever officially on any map, although it probably is now that I’ve laid claim to the entire valley.”
“How’d you do that? Must be well over one hundred sixty acres here.”
“I discovered that four tracts meet in the middle of the town. Since each tract had some improvements on it, I laid claim to all four tracts, six hundred forty acres.”
“That’s a heck of a lot of solitude.”
Her lips quirked. “It suits my needs. We’re losing the light. Let’s go.”
She nudged her horse forward down the slope into the valley.
Ev followed, marveling at a woman who would claim so much property just so she could be alone.
CHAPTER SIX
Weary beyond words, Kiera climbed the three steps that fronted her small cabin. The town had larger buildings, but the cabin held everything she needed and was easy to care for. She’d left Ev to settle the horses in the stable just beyond the corral that sat beside the cabin. In winter she was very grateful that she’d chosen a place where all the buildings were close together. Getting to the livestock through six feet of snow would be impossible if they were at the opposite end of town.
She lit a lantern to ward off the dimness in the cabin as night fell. Then she set the wrapped package of silver nitrate in a corner to be properly stored later, removed her hat, and hung it on a hook beside the door. She tossed her buffalo robe on the roughhewn cot that served as her bed and tended the chore of starting a fire in the potbelly on the far side of the cabin’s one room. That was, if you didn’t include the small addition she used for her photographic work.
Her stomach growled, and she knew Ev would be hungry as well, so she pumped water at the dry sink into a coffee pot and set it atop the stove to heat. Then she rummaged through the goods on her shelf for a can of beans. She opened that and set it too on top of the potbelly. The most immediate needs being seen to, she stood staring with fresh eyes at the things she’d come to love.
Ev probably wouldn’t think much of her home. The lamp only lightened the space around the table from dark to dim. The rest of the cabin remained in shadows. Everything was dusty, and nothing was new. Some of the china was chipped, but she was grateful to have plates. She didn’t need the fancy delftware, crystal, and silver settings of her childhood to be happy. She figured he wouldn’t be so proud as to refuse a meal served from a can instead of a chafing dish.
She checked the water and the beans. Added coffee to the pot and wondered what was keeping Ev. Too tired to go find him, she sat on the bed.
How much later she couldn’t tell, a sound woke her. A man’s dark shape stood at the potbelly and the smell of smoke filled her nostrils. She drew her pistol and cocked it without even thinking.
“Don’t shoot, Kat, it’s only me.” As he spoke, Ev raised his hands.
Disoriented with exhaustion and in the dim light Kiera had to be sure. “Turn around so I can see your face.”
He did as she ordered.
“Thank the lord.” Her shoulders slumped, and she uncocked the pistol all in one motion. She’d had no intention of falling asleep and never should have slept so deeply. She could only blame her recent illness for the confusion and fear that had raced through her. In the moment she woke, she’d thought herself back in the San Francisco bordello on that horrible night when Herbert died before her eyes.
Memories chilled her body, and she shuddered. The pistol dropped forgotten to the floor as she wrapped her arms around herself and failed to suppress a sob. If she started to cry, she wouldn’t be able to stop, and she didn’t want to show such weakness to Ev. Once he knew what a pansy she was, he’d have no trouble getting under her guard. She’d find herself in Laramie facing a hanging for sure.
Strong arms circled her. Ev lifted her then settled with her still in his arms at one end of the bed. “What is it Kat? What’s scared you so much?”
His unexpected gentleness undid her, and she buried her face against his shoulder to muffle the weeping that overcame her best efforts at restraint.
He let her cry, making no comment and showing no sign of impatience. He even handed her a kerchief when she was done to dry her eyes and blow her nose.
“Better?”
She nodded and forced herself to meet his gaze. Worry and remembered fear still danced a jig in her stomach. What would he think of her if she told him about Madame Duval’s bordello and Herbert? Shame almost overcame fear at the thought of the foolish trust she’d placed in a man. How could she trust Ev to understand — to not see her naiveté as proof that she was at heart a criminal? How could she expose herself to his disgust and ridicule?
“Think you could tell me about it now?”
Kiera swallowe
d and nodded again. If she must, she’d tell Ev all. There really was no sense in delaying, but maybe she could work up to it.
“Something spooked you. What was it?”
“You.”
The corners of his mouth lifted. “Yeah, I got that. I startled you out of a sound sleep. But if you’d been certain it was me, you wouldn’t have pulled your gun.”
“I was disoriented, and the light’s so bad in here, I thought you might be a claim jumper, or worse.” That much was true. She had imagined he was someone far worse than a claim jumper or the marshal who wanted to compel her to stand trial. She’d thought he was a man intent on rape and forcing her into prostitution.
Ev’s face went hard, and his arms tightened around her. You’ve had trouble with claim jumpers?”
“Some. Mostly they just stumble on the town by accident and spend some time looking around before moving on. Every once in a while, someone who’s checked with the claims office and the assayer comes through looking for gold. If I’m here, I’m usually able to convince them all the gold is played out and I’m homesteading.”
“Any of them ever hurt you?”
“No. I don’t let them get that close. Also, the Shoshone taught me a few things about protecting myself.”
“A woman on her own is vulnerable. No matter what she knows, or how convincing she is, some man will always figure that he has a right to her. You really need to have someone else living with you.”
Kiera pulled herself from his grasp. She crossed the room to the potbelly, using its inadequate heat to replace the warmth of Ev’s arms. “Thank you for your advice, Marshal. You aren’t saying anything I haven’t heard before, but how I live should hardly matter to you. You intend to see that I hang. Now, I suggest we agree to disagree and see to having some dinner. What happened to the beans and coffee I started?”
• • •
Ev shrugged and reminded himself that she’d be in his custody for all the weeks from now until the end of her trial. Once that issue was resolved would be time enough for him to argue with her about her penchant for solitude.
“The pot boiled dry, and the beans were burnt, so I tossed them out.”
“Oh. I’ll start some more.”
He pushed her back onto the bed. “You’re still recovering. I’ll do it.”
“No, you’re my guest, and I won’t allow … ”
“You may not have a fever any more, but you’re weak as a kitten. After the past few days and that kiss we shared you can’t justify standing on formality with me, so let me make dinner.”
She turned wide eyes on him. “Kiss? What kiss?”
“Ah … um … you don’t remember?”
Her brows lowered. “I think I’d remember if I’d kissed you.”
“Well you were a tad delirious at the time. You called me Herbert. By the by, who is he?”
Her lips thinned, and her eyes narrowed. “I can make supper.”
“You aren’t going to tell me, are you? Fine, I can ignore you as well as you can ignore me.”
“It’s just beans and coffee,” she groused.
“Then I shouldn’t have any problem handling it. So lay back and rest.”
Though she clearly didn’t like it, she complied. She objected again but with just as little success when he insisted he would bed down on the hard plank floor. Ev knew he could be a remarkably stubborn man when he chose, and he chose now.
The next day Ev woke to silence. Early morning sunlight heated his face. His body was warm, so the potbelly must still be making heat, but no sound or smell stirred the quiet. He sat up. Kat was gone. A quick survey of the room showed that her saddle bags were missing.
“Dangit, when am I going to stop underestimating that woman? I coulda sworn she was too exhausted to skip out on me.” Maybe she hasn’t, countered the part of him that already seemed to believe her innocent.
He sighed, pulled on his coat and boots then stowed his gear in his saddlebags before braving the chill outdoors.
The corral was disappointingly empty, and his bay was the only mount occupying the small horse shelter.
He searched the ground and finally sorted the freshest tracks from older signs. The unshod grey had headed in the direction of that waterfall he’d seen when he paused on the valley’s rim with Kat. From the depth of the hoof prints, the horse was weighed down with a lot more than one slim woman. However, the width of the stride indicated a walking pace. The horse, and thus its rider, wasn’t in any hurry.
So maybe she’s going for a pleasure ride, not escaping. Right. And Boyd isn’t in any danger of losing his life, if Kat doesn’t return to the Shoshone camp.
In minutes Ev was on her trail.
• • •
Kiera folded back the cuffs of her shirtsleeves in deference to the promised heat of the day. Then she steadied the tripod at the very edge of the cliff that broke the line of steep hills surrounding Smoke Valley. Checking the angle of her lens, she glanced toward the sun rising above the perpetual cloud line that circled the valley and waited as the shadow of the hills crept away from the thin line of water cascading over the cliff. Gradually the pristine stream was revealed. At the moment of greatest contrast between water and shadow, she ducked under the camera’s hood then reached around to remove the lens cap and expose the photographic plate prepared earlier.
The image would be perfect, one of her best ever. If she could just time the exposure correctly. A few more seconds. She started to replace the lens cap, but her body was jerked backward from the camera.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you. You won’t fall.”
Ev!
Her extended arm struck the tripod, and the entire apparatus, camera, plate, tripod, and all teetered toward the empty air beyond the cliff.
“Nooo!” She pushed free of his grip, lunged for the toppling tripod, and managed to grasp a single spindly leg with one hand. However, the surface of the cliff was loose, shale-like stone, and the camera made the tripod top heavy. The weight combined with the momentum from her lunge sent her on a painful slide toward the precipice.
She braced her free hand against the ground, slowing her forward motion a little. The small rocks bit and sliced into her palm and prevented her from finding purchase enough to halt her downward progress. Just as her shoulders cleared the cliff edge, she jerked to a stop. Ev had her by the ankles.
With the tripod assembly dangling from her hand, she stared at the rocks hundreds of feet below. Her one handed grip wasn’t enough, and the mist-slicked wood started slipping from her fingers.
She labored to breathe. Her heart pounded. She could hear little above the thud of blood in her ears and the noise of the waterfall immediately to her left. She hurt all over, but mostly in the palm of the hand that had probably been shredded like frayed ribbon. The tripod continued to slip until the broad-footed end of the leg she held came to rest on the top of her fist. Momentum tugged her arm more, making her wonder if the limb had been wrenched from her shoulder socket.
With the camera temporarily secure, she was able to catch her breath, and her heart rate slowed.
Gradually she became aware of a sound rising above the noise of falling water.
“I’ve got hold of you. Push yourself up and away from the cliff,” yelled Ev.
“I can’t,” she shouted back.
“What’s the problem?”
“I’ll lose the camera.” Ev could have no idea what she’d gone through over the years to keep this camera. Hiding it from her grandfather. All but prostituting herself in San Francisco. Lugging the gear around the coldest, loneliest mountains on the continent. The camera and the photographs she took with it were her solace and comfort when everything else in the world went wrong. That’s what had driven her to this cliff top today, the need to submerge her troubles in the cleansing activity of creating an image as close to nature as she could possibly make. How could she give that up?
A lengthy pause followed before Ev spoke again. “Would you rathe
r lose your life? I can’t hold you like this much longer, and with the added weight of that equipment, you’re too heavy for me to pull up on my own. If I let go, you’re going over the cliff with that camera.”
That was the gist of the matter. She could replace her camera, but not if she wasn’t alive to do it. She released her grip on the tripod. Tears of frustration obscured her view just as the crash of her treasured equipment obscured the trickle of noise from the waterfall.
She felt herself being dragged backward.
When solid ground finally supported her entire body, she placed her hands, palms down, on the rocky surface and pushed upward. Pain shot through her left hand, and she crumpled back to the ground. She lay there gulping in air, waiting for the throbbing to subside, and trying not to cry.
“Kat, what’s the matter?”
With gentle hands Ev grasped her shoulders, turning her over and pulling her into his lap where he sat.
The concern in his face was too much to bear. She turned her face into his shoulder, and he gathered her closer.
One sob broke followed by another and another. How was it she always ended up weeping in his arms? She’d never shown weakness to any other man. Not Herbert, not grandfather, and they were the worst men she’d known. Why let down her guard with this man? What was the point in rescuing her only to take her to Laramie for hanging?
• • •
Ev waited for her tears to subside and the shock of panic to fade from his system. However, long after Kat quieted, he sat there rocking her, loath to release her. She felt too good right where she was, warm, relaxed, perfect, and he wanted to keep that feeling for as long as he could.
Her head left his shoulder, and the air cooled the damp warmth that soaked his shirt.
“Ev, don’t you think you should put me down.”
He lowered his gaze to her green eyes. Crystal liquid still trembled on her lashes.
“No.” Fierce longing invaded his heart to do battle with the perfection he felt. “But I will, if you want me to.”
Her lashes lowered some. “I am having a little trouble breathing. Perhaps you could loosen your grip.”
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