"Now, to summarize. I believe we've agreed that you'll stop keeping your distance, that you'll pursue and catch me. Is that correct?"
God help him. "That's correct."
"We will enjoy each other, as you put it, for the duration of the journey then part forever in Denver. No hard feelings on either side. Correct?"
"That's how it has to be."
"Good!" She thrust out her hand and Tanner gripped it before he realized what he was doing. "It's a bargain." Sounding pleased, she gave his hand a vigorous shake. "Let's go see if there's any coffee left."
They had shaken hands to seal their agreement to have an affair. Tanner looked down at his hand and shook his head, then followed the sway of her poncho around the stand of juniper and back to the campfire. Their love affair, if he could call it that, was off to a hand-shaking strange start.
Fox halted near the fire and narrowed her eyes on the men. "Me and Tanner are going to have us a üaison. If you have a problem with that, say so now."
And things were getting stranger. Tanner rolled his eyes, then looked at the men. They stared back at him with appraising glances.
"What exactly is a liaison?" Hanratty asked, shifting his gaze to Fox.
"You're a grown-up man, you ought to know." Fox sounded disgusted.
"Ah," Hanratty said, informing her that he was fooling with her. "That kind of liaison." He tilted his head. "Suppose I said I have a problem with that plan. What would you do?"
Tanner stepped up beside Fox. "I'd tell you to go to hell."
Jubal Brown laughed. "That's going to happen anyway." Standing, he stretched and looked toward the bedrolls. "I'm calling it a night."
"I think I'll turn in, too," Fox said, smothering a yawn. "It's going to be a long day tomorrow."
She looked up at Tanner and firelight softened her face. For the first time, he saw a flash of shyness and vulnerability in her eyes and his anger faded. Her instinct was correct. The men would have known, there was no point trying to make a secret of something that would be obvious.
She cleared her throat. "I feel like I ought to say something, but I don't know what to say." Looking flustered, she pressed her lips together then groped for his hand and gave him another vigorous handshake. "It's a deal. And I'm very pleased about our liaison."
He didn't know what to say either, particularly with an audience grinning and listening to every word. "I'm pleased, too," he muttered, feeling like an idiot.
Peaches was the last to leave the campfire. His black eyes bored holes in Tanner's forehead. "If you hurt her," he said softly, "I won't rest until you pay for it."
Then Peaches walked away leaving Tanner alone, looking into the dying flames.
He had just committed to a public love affair with a woman he hadn't yet kissed. Hell, he didn't even know how they had gotten into the subject or agreed to have an affair. After a time, he tilted his head up to the stars and smiled. Fox was unlike any woman he had ever known. Why had he imagined that a liaison with her would follow an ordinary course?
* * *
CHAPTER 10
Fox guided the party southeast into and through the White Pine Mountains, climbing high above the sagebrush and scrub oak. Here pine and juniper grew in fragrant stands so thick that if she hadn't possessed an acute sense of direction, she could easily have lost the way and wandered aimlessly among dense branches and towering shadows.
The nights continued brittle and cold and her poncho felt good during the day, but Fox sniffed spring in the air. The melt had begun. Creeks that had been winter low and sluggish now swelled and tumbled in their beds, running dangerously fast.
Reining in beside a stream that most likely had been little more than a trickle as recently as a week ago, Fox studied rushing water that tossed and foamed, close to overflowing its banks.
It was possible they could get the animals across safely if no one made a mistake and luck favored them. Maybe. The odds seemed better that they'd lose a horse or a mule. If the money mule was swept downstream and the bank bags broke in the water, the gold would not be recoverable. Fox would never forgive herself.
"We'll head south, look for a shallow, calmer section."
"I think we can make it across," Tanner said, riding up beside her to examine the turbulent water. "Hanratty's horse might balk, but he hasn't lately. We'll manage."
Fox's expression went blank. "We're not going to cross here," she stated flatly.
Tanner met her stare and her heart sank. They were going to argue, and they would have a falling out before they ever got to the kissing and liaison part. Well, so be it. She wasn't going to risk the money mule to this stretch of water.
"Suppose I ride across first and test the currents."
Her chin came up. "You do that. But me and the mules are heading south until we find a safer crossing."
"Even if I show you that it's safe here?" He sounded irritated.
"I'm not willing to risk losing an animal or, at best, getting our supplies wet just so you can prove a point." She flicked a glance at his mouth then rode around him. "You agreed that I would make these decisions. I'm sorry to learn that you don't keep your word." Chew on that a while. She let him think about it while she informed the others that they'd follow the stream south, seeking a more acceptable crossing.
She half expected to turn her head and see Tanner riding on the far side of the stream, but he trotted up beside her.
"You're right," he said in a tight voice. "It was your decision to make."
"Damned straight."
"I keep my word."
"For a moment it sounded like you wouldn't."
"I still think we could have crossed back there. These detours cost time."
She stared. "These detours? This is only the third time we've been blocked! Besides, the way I make it we're right on schedule."
"And I'd like to stay on schedule."
They studied each other through narrowed eyes, then Fox kicked her mustang into a loose canter and rode ahead, fuming inside. They'd both been irritable for several days. This confrontation was merely the latest in a series of small set-tos.
She couldn't speak for Tanner, but she'd figured out why she was pissy and ready to bite off heads. Days ago they'd decided to have a liaison but so far nothing had happened. The disappointment was enough to make anyone itchy and irritable.
Oh, there were reasons, she conceded that. The pine forests required single-file travel that didn't allow for any banter that might be considered pursuit. And the temperature dropped like a stone at night making any thought of getting naked very unappealing. Nor did it sound exciting to roll around on the frozen ground wearing scarves and heavy clothing. Fully dressed and freezing was no way to begin a liaison.
But the delay in getting this liaison started was driving her crazy.
Every time she looked at Tanner, she imagined that sensual mouth moving slowly over her throat and body. She couldn't take her eyes off the way his trousers fit tight around his thighs and snugged up next to his butt. And when he stared at her across the fire at night, a tingle began in the pit of her stomach and shivered up her spine to the top of her scalp. Lord. If he could do that to her with a glance, she could hardly bear to imagine what he might do if they ever got to the liaison. Fox decided that no one had ever prayed for warm weather as fervently as she did every night. But so far to no avail.
"This looks passable," Peaches commented, coming up on her left side. Despite Peaches's protests, Fox had assigned Hanratty and Brown to trade off leading his string of mules. At the moment the men were leading her string, too.
"I don't know." The stream didn't appear as deep as the first site, but the water was white-tipped and running fast. A tree limb shot past in an eyeblink.
"This might be as good as it's going to get."
Fox had begun to think the same thing. She wasn't going to find an ideal safe crossing. "What's your guess? Three feet deep?"
"Probably less in some spots, more in others.
On the positive side, the bank over there is about level with the water. The animals won't have to climb an incline to get out."
Trust Peaches to find something positive in a dismal situation. But he was right. Fox drew a long breath.
"All right," she said when the men brought up the mules.
Hanratty stared at the water and swore. Already his horse was dancing away from the bank's edge.
"This is probably as good as it's going to get. We need to know what we're dealing with, so I'll ride across and then come back."
Tanner frowned. "My bay is taller than your mustang. It makes sense for me to go first in case the water's deeper than we're guessing."
"I'm in charge here, Tanner. I take the risks. I cross first. Peaches, you make sure the loads are evenly distributed on the mules and tight. Brown, you help him. Hanratty, start thinking how you're going to get that paint across." She looked into Tanner's hard eyes then dug her heels against the mustang's flanks.
The instant the mustang plunged into the water, she knew it was going to be a struggle. Over the rush and low roar of the water, she heard rocks knocking into each other as the swift current rolled them along the bottom. If one of those rocks smashed against her horse's feet
"Easy, boy. Take it slow. Nice and steady."
The mustang picked his way, stumbling once as the water rose to his belly and the current hit him broadside. Fox held on, giving the horse his head and trusting that he didn't want to be swept away any more than she did. Laying low over his neck, talking in his ear, she urged him forward. He stumbled a second time and she thought they'd both go down, but the mustang had heart and showed it.
He came out of the stream on the far side, snorting, tossing his head, and streaming water. Only now did Fox realize that her lower legs were wet and numb from the icy water. Her teeth chattered with cold and relief.
When her breath steadied, she looked across the mist thrown up by the turbulence and saw the men staring at her in silence. Peaches wore his oh-my-God look. Hanratty had his mouth open and so did Brown.
Tanner jerked off his hat and pulled a hand down his face.
"I'm coming back across," Fox shouted.
A chorus of no's came back at her. "Stay where you are," Tanner yelled. The others nodded.
She would have ignored them except the mustang quivered beneath her thighs. He needed to rest and warm himself in the sun. Reluctantly, she agreed to stay put. After she staked the mustang in grassy sunlight, she returned to the low bank, stamping her feet to restore feeling. The noise of rushing water made it impossible to hear what the men were saying on the other side, but she could guess.
Peaches was taking the mules out of the tethers. Fox nodded, agreeing with the move. The mules shouldn't be tied to one another or they would all go if one lost its footing. Tanner and Brown were arguing, nose to nose, Hanratty had led his horse away from the water and stood beside him, stroking his neck.
Fox paced along the bank, watching debris go tossing by and wished she had a smoke. Wished she was on the other side giving orders and checking every detail.
When she looked up, Tanner, Brown, and Peaches had mounted. They talked among themselves, looked across at her and then it began.
Tanner and Peaches positioned their horses at the edge of the stream. Shouting and yelling, Hanratty and Brown drove the mules between Tanner and Peaches. When the first mule saw what lay ahead he started to balk, but momentum carried him forward and the mules behind pushed him into the racing water. Once the mules were in the stream, trying to swim and keep their heads above the surface, their packs swaying and wobbling, Tanner rode into the water on the up side of the mules, and Peaches entered on the down side.
At once the stream became a churning tossing mass of men and frightened animals. The water rushed up to the mules backs and they rolled wild eyes and fought to keep their footing against the current and tumbling rocks. Tanner and Peaches shouted them forward while struggling to control their own mounts.
One of the animals went down and Fox choked. She couldn't tell if it was the money mule. An instant later the mule got its feet beneath its body, thank God, its head reappeared and it continued scrambling toward the bank. The force of rushing water had pushed the animals downstream and Fox now saw they would emerge several yards from where she stood shouting encouragement.
She was trying to calculate whether the mules would be blocked by a thick growth of willows, so she wasn't facing the stream. Not until later did she learn that the current had flung one of mules against Peaches's horse, knocking the horse's feet out from under him. When Fox turned back to look, Peaches was in the water and his horse had swept past him, tumbling in the savage current. For one horrified instant her eyes met Peaches's and she saw him shout "no." Then the current pulled him under.
She knew Peaches had just told her not to enter the water in an act of heroic idiocy, and she had only to look at the flooding currents to know he was right. Feeling frantic and helpless, Fox screamed at Tanner, but he was fighting to keep the bay upright, trying not to crash into the swimming mules. He didn't hear. Christ! There wasn't time to get her horse. Running full out, Fox raced along the bank, knowing she couldn't keep up with the raging current, not knowing what she could do anyway. Ahead she saw Peaches's head break the water then disappear again. She couldn't reach him.
Gasping, choking with panic, Fox stopped and pressed a hand to her burning side, She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Didn't register anything except that Peaches was drowning and she couldn't do a goddamned thing to save him. Shock and disbelief closed her throat.
A brown streak flashed past on the far bank but Fox didn't grasp the importance until Jubal Brown's horse shot into the water too far downstream to help.
No, she was wrong. He'd picked exactly the right place. When she understood what he would try to do, she ducked her head and ran hard, cursing the willows that snatched at her poncho, struggled to force breath into her scalding throat.
The hardest thing was not to shout, not to distract Brown when he needed every ounce of concentration plus more luck than any one man was entitled to. The worst thing was to be stuck on the bank instead of being in the stream herself.
She could see the water was deep here, racing fast, pouring over large rocks. Jubal Brown's horse fought the deadly current, eyes rolling, legs scrambling for footing beneath the turbulence.
Peaches's dark head broke the surface but Fox had no idea if he saw Brown or understood that Brown would try to catch him. There would be only one chance.
Heart in her mouth, dashing tears from her cheeks, Fox skidded to a halt, a prayer frozen on her lips. She saw Peaches tumbling in the water, his flannel shirt breaking the surface then vanishing. Saw Jubal turn his horse sideways, presenting the largest target but also exposing the horse to the full broadside force of the current.
Jubal's horse started to turn, pushed by the current, unable to hold his footing. Peaches would fly past him. Fox's breath stopped and her hands flew to her mouth.
Icy water splashed up on her as Tanner shot past and his horse plunged into the froth and foam. She hadn't heard him galloping down the bank.
Tanner had less than a minute to position his bay broadside against the current, the same as Jubal was fighting to do, and then Peaches swept down on them.
Peaches crashed into the bay, knocking the horse off balance. But Tanner grabbed an arm. Peaches's momentum swung the big bay around and Fox screamed, certain the horse and Tanner would go down, too. And they might have if Jubal Brown hadn't caught hold of Peaches's other arm so they didn't lose him when Tanner let go to stay in his saddle as the bay stumbled and slipped, fighting to regain his footing.
Fox couldn't see Peaches in the melee. The men and horses battled the current, throwing up water and curses. She couldn't tell who had Peaches, or if they had him at all.
Plunging, eyes wild, the horses strained toward the bank. They came out breathing hard, streaming water, flesh quivering. Tanner
and Jubal Brown each had one of Peaches's arms, dragging him out of the water between them.
He looked dead, limp-boned and head hanging. Fox tried to shout, but her throat was raw from screaming. By the time she reached them, the men had Peaches on the ground and were pounding his back. Gouts of water gushed from his mouth each time Tanner or Jubal leaned on him.
Fox paced in a circle, wringing her hands, dashing tears from her eyes, swearing, praying. When Peaches coughed and sputtered, she fell to her knees and covered her face. That cough was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.
"He's freezing." Tanner glanced up at her. "Get some dry clothing."
It would take a while. She'd have to find the mules then locate the mule carrying Peaches's things, and hope to hell Peaches's clothes had come through the crossing without getting soaked.
"Here." Stripping off her wool poncho, she tossed it to Jubal Brown. "Put this on him until I get back."
The mules were not scattered to hell and gone as Fox had expected. They were staked on tether lines in the sun. And Cutter Hanratty was walking toward a freshly dug fire pit carrying a stack of dry limbs and brush.
"Is he alive?"
Gasping for breath, Fox bent at the waist and pressed a hand against the stitch in her side. "Just barely." She'd run up the bank like the devil chased her. "He still has to survive being half frozen and beat to hell against the rocks." Her voice was a croak.
"I'll get some coffee going then I'll ride south, see if I can find his horse and get his saddlebags. I don't expect the horse to be alive though."
"Thank you."
She noticed the money mule had come through intact and she didn't see any leaking coins. That was a blessing. And she found the right pack on the second try, pulling out a coat, shirt, trousers, long underwear, and Peaches's second pair of socks and boots. He'd wrapped his clothing in oilcloth, it wasn't even damp.
Hanratty rode up beside her and extended a hand. Fox swung up behind him and let him ride her back to the site beside the river.
Tanner and Brown had stripped off their shirts to use as towels before they dropped Fox's poncho over Peaches's head. When Fox slid off Hanratty's horse, the two men were walking Peaches up and down the bank. Dragging him was more like it.
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