Fox yawned. "That bath made me sleepy. I think I'll turn in early and sleep in tomorrow until after dawn."
They had reached the far edge of the mining camp, where Tanner expected their site to be when he realized it was dark ahead. "Didn't we leave a fire burning?"
"Of course. We always have a fire in camp." Tanner felt her stiffen beside him then peer forward into the deepening darkness. "Something's wrong."
Twilight had faded into night. They should have spotted the welcome flames of their campfire. Dropping the pies, Tanner pulled his pistol and moved forward without making noise. Fox silently came up beside him. They both slowed as they approached the perimeter of the camp, straining to see what kind of problem they were rushing into.
"It's been ransacked," Fox murmured.
Tanner swore. There was enough light to see that their tents had been kicked down. The mule packs were opened and the contents scattered on the ground. Items of clothing tumbled in the breeze. A bag of flour had broken and he smelled vinegar. Striding forward, he moved directly to where he'd left his saddle covering the bank bags. His saddle had been tossed aside and the bags of gold coins were gone. Shock and rage dimmed the muffled sounds behind him.
"Wait until I get a fire going," Fox snapped. The garbled noises sounded frantic. "It appears you've been there awhile, a few more minutes won't kill you."
Swinging around, Tanner's narrow gaze settled on the two figures on the ground, Hanratty and Peaches, tied hand and foot and gagged. Once Fox had the fire going, flames popped from the fire pit and their faces came into focus. Tanner read resignation in Peaches's black eyes, embarrassment and fury on Hanratty's stony expression.
He ripped a dirty bandanna away from Hanratty's mouth. "What the hell happened here?"
Tight-lipped and squinty-eyed, Fox cut the ropes binding their hands and ankles. Both men stood rubbing their arms and stamping their feet to restart circulation. Fox leveled a furious stare at Peaches. "You're not the guard, I'm not mad at you. Saddle Tanner's bay and my mustang." She spun toward Hanratty. "You, I'd like to shoot."
When Hanratty finished swearing, he met Tanner's icy stare. "There were two of them. Could be the two men who passed us yesterday. They halloed the camp, came up smiling and friendly, then pulled guns." He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. "You can figure the rest. They knew what they were looking for, though. Didn't take anything except the gold and a mule to carry it."
"Where's Brown?"
"The bastard hasn't come back." Hanratty spit and his fists opened and closed.
"I'm guessing they headed west," Fox said as Peaches led the horses up out of the darkness. "Is that right?"
"I didn't see them leave," Hanratty said, rubbing a knot on his forehead.
"They headed west," Peaches confirmed. "Didn't go back through the camp, just lit out from here." He talked while he saddled the horses, describing the thieves. "You'll know 'em when you see 'em. Both are on the small side."
Hanratty swore and looked around for his pistol.
"Both wearing mustaches. One of them is youngish, the other is older and has a scar across here." Peaches drew a line with his finger from eyebrow to jaw. "One's riding a black with a white blaze, the other's riding a dappled gray. They took the mule named Jackie."
"What the hell is this?" Hanratty strode up to the horses then scowled at Peaches. "That isn't my horse."
"You're staying here," Fox said, looking through items of clothing strewn around the campsite. She made a small sound when she found her heavy coat and shrugged into it.
"The hell!"
"You heard what she said." Tanner found his own coat and thrust his arms into the sleeves. His dark eyes glittered in the firelight. "You better hope I recover the gold, Hanratty." Glancing up, he studied a sliver of moon and a bank of black clouds blotting the sky to the northwest. With limited light and a storm coming, progress would be slow. Swearing, he checked his rifle and pistol, watched Fox do the same.
"Better take bedrolls," she said briskly. "We don't know how long this will take."
Tanner knew she was right but he'd been burning to take off from the minute he saw the gold was missing. Impatient, he kicked through the mess littering the ground until he found his bedroll. While he strapped it behind his saddle, he noticed Peaches stuffing cheese and bread and jerky into Fox's saddlebags. He shoved kindling into Tanner's bags. Then Peaches handed them both canteens as they swung into their saddles.
"Be careful," he said to Fox, looking up at her and patting her knee. "There's not enough moonlight to rush this, and you're going to lose the moon in about two hours. I'm guessing the snow will be light, but I've been wrong before."
Tanner told himself he was taking off in two minutes with or without her.
"Don't worry." Fox leaned to touch Peaches's face with the fingers of her gloves, then she adjusted the scarf around her throat. "They aren't traveling fast, not with a mule. And they probably think we won't chase after them tonight because of the storm coming in. We'll get the gold back, Tanner."
Tanner flicked a glance at Hanratty who stood leaning over the fire, his body rigid, staring into the flames. "We'd better."
They rode into the darkness, trotting when Tanner wanted to gallop. "It's too dangerous. There isn't enough light," Fox said as if she'd read his mind. "Plus we can hold this pace longer than we could hold a hard run."
The bowl stretching between the ranges before them opened like a dark void. It seemed impossible that they would ever find two men and a mule in the vast expanse. They didn't even know for certain that the thieves had headed west.
After a few miles, Fox came in close and shouted over the rising wind. She'd guessed his thoughts again. "It's more logical for them to head back west than to try for Salt Lake City. Salt Lake is too far away. You'll see. We'll spot them as soon as it starts to snow."
"That doesn't make sense," Tanner said sharply, pulling his scarf up to cover his chin. The temperature was dropping by the minute but he hardly felt the cold. Fury heated his blood.
"They won't build a fire if they think there's a chance we're after them. We'd see it from miles off. Once it starts snowing, they'll want a fire badly enough to convince themselves that nobody would be fool enough to ride out here in a storm. Plus they'll think the snow hides the fire, which isn't true."
Tanner reined to a halt. Fox trotted past him, pulled up and came back. He waited until she was near enough to hear him over the wind. "I didn't ask you to come. If you want to go back to camp, head on out."
"Why do you think I want to go back?" Genuine puzzlement roughened her voice.
"You said only a fool would ride out here in a storm."
He couldn't see her expression, but he heard the smile in her answer. "That's right. We're a couple of fools who are going to surprise those bastards and get your gold back. Did you feel that?" She brushed a glove across her cheek. "It's starting to snow."
Clouds sailed across the sliver of moon, pitching them into tarry blackness. Tanner hoped to hell that his horse could see better than he could.
Slowly they rode forward, letting the horses pick their way along. The snow felt like a thin fall, but the darkness was so complete that Tanner couldn't be certain. Almost an hour later, he heard Fox give a low shout.
"Look to your right. Do you see that glow?"
He didn't see a damned thing except snow falling past his hat brim. But if she was right, they could easily have ridden past the thieves if the thieves hadn't built a fire. They corrected direction and angled north.
Now the snow swirled into his face, sticking to his lashes and brows, but within minutes he, too, spotted a glow through the flakes.
"How far away are they?"
"Not far. I'd guess not more than a mile. How do you want to handle this?"
He'd been thinking about that. "They didn't kill Hanratty and Peaches"
"Because shots would have brought the rest of the camp running to our site."
"
I agree. That's the only reason Peaches and Hanratty are alive. We'll give the bastards an opportunity to walk away with their lives, but I doubt they'll take it." He tried to see Fox through the snow and darkness. "You cover me while I walk into their camp. If it's them, I'll take my money. If they object"
"They'll object," Fox stated flatly.
"I know you told Hanratty and Brown that you'd shot a man before. Is that true?"
"Damn it, Tanner. I don't lie." He felt the heat of her anger sweep through the snowflakes. "This is not a good time to make me mad."
"I had to ask." He'd be placing his life in her hands, depending on her to back him up. After a moment's reflection, he decided he would rather have Fox behind him than Hanratty or Brown.
Within minutes of drawing closer he heard voices, another few minutes shaped the voices into words. He glanced toward Fox but didn't speak, wondering if she heard what he did. Two voices, no more.
She nodded then pointed to the ground before she swung out of her saddle, holding her rifle. Quickly, she peeled off her gloves and stuffed them into her coat pocket. Tanner did the same. Apparently she trusted the horses not to run off in the storm.
Bending, they moved forward, progressing from one clump of sage to the next, finally pausing behind a snow-draped tangle of dead brush. The men's voices were clear now, planning tomorrow's route, complaining that the mule slowed them down. Tanner would have known it was them by their conversation even if he hadn't glimpsed the man with the scar.
He stood up straight, letting rage tighten his muscles on a sweep through his body. Letting himself feel the cold inside his mind. Before he stepped forward, he touched Fox's cheek with his fingertips and gazed into her eyes through the falling snow. Their stare held until she brought the rifle up and settled the stock against her shoulder, then Tanner nodded and strode into the outlaws' camp.
He must have looked like an apparition walking out of the snow and wind, his face stony, a gun in his hand.
"Goddamn!" One of the men started badly enough to spill hot coffee on his thigh. "Who the hell are you?"
"It's him," the other one said, jumping to his feet.
Wind tossed the hissing flames in the fire pit, throwing an uncertain light. But it was enough that Tanner spotted the bags of gold.
"I've come for my money," he said, speaking through his teeth. "Put down your weapons and step back and no one will get hurt." They wouldn't, he knew that, but giving them the chance would make remembering easier.
"Look out," the scarred man shouted. "There's another one out there." Both men reached for the pistols on their hips and gunfire exploded.
When the smoke cleared, Tanner ran a swift mental check and decided he hadn't been hit. Both of the outlaws lay sprawled on the ground.
Fox strode into the campsite and kicked the men's guns away from their bodies. "Just in case," she said, gazing down at them. "Bastards!"
"Are they dead?"
"Oh yeah."
The bags were all present. Tanner noticed a type of knot he hadn't seen before, so the thieves had opened one of the bags. The idea of searching a dead man's pockets was repugnant, but not as irksome as counting to discover if all the coins in the opened bag were accounted for. Walking around the fire, he knelt beside one of the bodies and started going through the man's pockets. When he looked for Fox, he saw her holding the thieves saddlebags toward the firelight, looking inside.
"Find anything interesting?" he asked when he'd finished his search.
"One of them is named Alfie Hinton. Don't know which one. One of them saved a Wanted Posterno drawing of a likeness on itbut the name on the poster is Russell Borden. Either of those names sound familiar to you?" She wiped snow from her cheeks and gazed up at him.
"Alfie Hinton," he repeated slowly. One of the men had recognized Tanner the instant he walked into the camp. "Alfie Hinton. It'll come to me."
"Did you find anything?"
He jingled some coins in his pocket. "Six twenty-dollar gold pieces. I'm betting they're mine." When he raised his head, he noticed Fox had wiped her cheek, leaving a red smear behind. "You're bleeding."
"Am I?" Frowning, she ran her fingertips over her face, throat, and ears. "Damn all! They shot my earlobe!" She looked up at Tanner in astonishment. "I felt something warm trickling on my neck and cheek, but I thought it was melting snow. Those bastards!"
Kneeling beside her, Tanner tilted the left side of her face to the firelight. A bullet had notched the outer edge of her earlobe. He stared at the curved notch without really seeing it, instead he pictured what would have happened if the bullet had been an inch or two closer to her face. Certainly she would have been disfigured, most likely she'd now be dead.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice gruff.
"What for? You didn't shoot me." She pressed her bandanna against her ear, pulled it back to look at the blood, then held it over her ear again. "I'd say I came out pretty well. Whichever one of them shot me is dead and all I've got is a little cut on my ear."
"It's more than a little cut, there's a piece missing." It surprised him that she wasn't crying from pain or vanity. "Doesn't it hurt?"
"It's starting to," she said, grimacing. "A piece missing, huh? But a small piece, right?"
"Yes."
She felt beneath the bandanna. "Well, it's not too bad," she said finally. "I never cared much about matching earlobes anyhow."
Since it was her earlobe, Tanner cared. If someone had to get shot, it should have been him. It was his gold, his father, his problem. Removing his hat, he shook off the snow, then pulled a hand through his hair and swore. This was his fault.
"I think the bleeding's stopped." Fox stood and pushed the bloody bandanna into her coat pocket before she pulled on her gloves. "Let's drag those thieving bastards out of the campsite, then we'll find out if they made decent coffee."
Tanner tried to see her ear through .the snow and poor light. Damn it. He was paying Hanratty and Brown to face down any thieves, but it was Fox who got shot.
"Or would you rather ride off about a hundred feet and set up a camp of our own?" Fox asked. "Personally, I'm tired and hungry. Ready for something hot to drink. I don't see the sense in abandoning a perfectly good campsite that's already set up."
He didn't either. The only reason he hadn't made the same suggestion was that he'd thought she might object.
In that uncanny way she had, she seemed to read his thoughts again. "I pride myself on being a practical woman, Mr. Tanner." A thin smile and a shrug finished her declaration.
"Practical women are a blessing." It was possible he even knew another one besides Fox.
Working together they dragged the two thieves away from the campsite. If he found a shovel in camp, Tanner would bury them in the morning. While Tanner brought their horses into the light and removed the saddles and bags, Fox returned to rummaging through the thieves' goods.
"I found a tent. Just one, but it will provide some shelter." Holding the thieves' blankets to the firelight, she examined them for rips and lice then nodded satisfaction before she set up the tent.
Occasionally habit kicked in with a display of manners and Tanner's immediate instinct was to assist her, but he checked the impulse. Whenever he rose when she came to the fire or extended a hand to help her mount or dismount or tried to take over her chores, his reward was a scowl or an eyebrow arched in offense.
Still, he was uncomfortable standing aside and letting a woman erect a tent, no matter how willing or how efficient she might be. His gaze sharpenedit was a small tent, a one-man tent. His mouth tightened as he considered the long night ahead. Fox would take the tent, of course, and he would roll out his blankets near the fire. With luck the wind wouldn't bend the fire to set his blankets aflame, and hopefully he wouldn't get buried in snow.
When Fox joined him at the fire, she handed him one of the thieves' blankets and he followed her example by wrapping the blanket over his hat and around his body. Once they were settled, sitting on
a fallen log, he gave her half of the bread and cheese that Peaches had packed, and a strip of jerky. "Their coffee was awful. I made a new batch." Flames licked the bottom of a rusted pot.
They didn't talk while they ate, watching the snow hiss into the fire. Now that he had the gold safely in his possession, Tanner could let himself think about the disaster that would have resulted had they failed to recover the ransom money. His stomach tightened and his eyes narrowed into slits. His father's life depended on getting this gold to Denver.
He poured coffee into cups that Fox had washed out with the snow starting to pile on the ground. "Are you warm enough?" he asked.
"Hell no. Are you? I'm half frozen, but with the wind so high I'm afraid to move closer to the fire." She cupped her gloves around her cup. "Well? Are you going to say it?"
"Say what?"
"That I was right and you were wrong about someone trying to steal the gold."
Fox might not be fragile or dainty, but she was like all other women he'd known in wanting the pleasure of hearing him say he was wrong.
"You were right," he said finally, speaking through his teeth. "Satisfied?"
She grinned at him. "Actually, I'd rather that you'd been right."
"I figured it out. Alfie Hinton was a desk clerk at the St. Charles hotel in Carson. I kept the gold overnight in the hotel's vault. Apparently the manager was indiscreet." He drew a breath of cold air. "As you predicted."
"Are you going to keep Hanratty on the payroll?"
Tanner swallowed a sip of scalding coffee. "He's not the first man to get jumped by bandits," he said eventually. Shifting, he tried to see her face, but the blanket draped over her hat concealed most of her profile.
She nodded slowly. "Stealing the gold from one man, one woman, and an old man with rhumitiz would be as easy as picking seeds out of a melon. There's no way around itwe need Hanratty and Brown."
"It's more dangerous to fire them than to keep them." Which was a problem without a solution.
She nodded, her gaze on the wind-tossed flames. "Maybe Hanratty was humiliated enough over this incident that he won't let it happen again."
Foxfire Bride Page 10