Peaches was ashen gray, his lips bluish purple. He shivered uncontrollably and his teeth chattered. He looked at Fox, tried to say something then just shook his head and closed his eyes.
"Keep walking, old man." Jubal Brown pulled Peaches's arm tighter around his neck, taking on more of Peaches's weight.
Tanner had an arm around Peaches's waist. "I know it hurts to walk, but we need to get your circulation flowing again."
"You'll warm up if you move."
"One foot in front of the other. That's right. Now again."
Feeling helpless and useless, Fox walked beside them. "How badly hurt is he?"
"Mr. Hernandez is one big walking bruise," Tanner said, keeping his gaze on Peaches's face. "Maybe a sprained ankle. Hard to tell. We'll know more when he warms up enough to feel pain. Dozens of small cuts and scrapes."
Fox's poncho was long enough to cover Peaches's butt. From there his legs were bare down to his wet boots. "Maybe we should get him into dry clothing," she said, anxiety making her voice even hoarser.
"In a few minutes." Tanner threw her a glance. "If you want to be useful, catch our horses and take them back to camp. I assume we have a camp going by now. Get the saddles off. Do what you can to unpack the mules. Check and see if any of the animals are cut and in need of doctoring."
Fox nodded, glad to have something to do, angry that she'd lost charge. "He'll live, won't he?"
Jubal Brown tossed her a thin smile over Peaches's head. "This old man is tougher than rawhide. I would have bet every coin we're carrying that he wouldn't come out of that stream alive."
Tanner agreed. "He'll hurt like hell for a few days, but unless he takes a fever, he should make it."
"Thank God." Fox swayed on her feet.
It suddenly struck her that the last person she would have counted on to rescue Peaches had been the first into the river. Jubal Brown hadn't hesitated. He'd seen Peaches pulled under and had acted instantaneously. And if Jubal hadn't been in the river when and where he was, Tanner couldn't have known where Peaches was or where to make a stand. Without Jubal Brown her eyes widened and a shudder rippled down her spine.
"Thank you," she whispered when Jubal looked at her. He shrugged, adjusted Peaches's arm and urged Peaches forward.
Fox stood like she'd taken root, staring at the men and chewing over the fact that Jubal Brown had saved Peaches's life.
"If you want to say thanks," Brown called over his shoulder, "find me and Tanner some dry clothes, too."
She'd been so anxious about Peaches that she hadn't thought about Tanner and Jubal Brown also being wet and cold, but both wore trousers soaked up to their crotches with icy water.
Up to their crotches. Her gaze dropped to the bottom of Tanner's butt and she was glad she wasn't facing him or she would have embarrassed herself. It was bad enough that she'd taken a long hard look at his bare chest and shoulders.
Matthew Tanner was a man who looked as good without his shirt and waistcoat as he did wearing them. His skin was tight over muscles that suggested he'd swung a pickax in his time and moved heavy rocks. Broad shoulders tapered down to a lean waist that looked as hard as a board. And he had dark hair on his chest. This was a matter that Fox felt particular about. Too much chest hair was a tad revolting. Too little chest hair made the man look unfinished, as if he'd quit growing before he should have. But the amount of hair on Tanner's chest was just right. She was glad to discover this as she'd been a bit anxious about the chest hair issue.
Jubal Brown, on the other hand, looked better in his shirt. A naked chest and arms made him look puny, too skinny and bony, and Fox could have counted the few hairs on his chest.
And she was a flaming idiot to stand here comparing bare chests when there was so much to do. Whirling, she rushed back to camp. Before she did anything else, she'd find Peaches's doctor kit and steep tansy herb in whiskey. He'd have whiskey in the doctor kit because there were so many medical uses, like this one for fever. The whiskey would help with chills, too.
While she worked, she whispered a prayer of gratitude. She couldn't imagine life without Peaches, he'd been her family and her friend for as long as she could remember.
Tanner sat where he could see into Peaches's tent. Fox had squeezed in beside the old man and held his hand. Earlier, she had insisted on feeding him bean soup thickened with crumbled biscuits, which had set off an argument. But Fox had won, patiently spooning soup into Peaches's mouth. Tanner suspected Peaches would rather have had more of the medicinal whiskey than beans and biscuits. Right now, Tanner could have used a drink himself.
At the end of a turbulent day, a good horse was dead, a good man had almost died, three mules had serious cuts, and Jubal Brown's horse was favoring the left front leg.
"I don't think it's serious," Brown said when Tanner inquired. "He probably stepped hard on a rock and bruised the pad. He isn't cut and nothing's broken."
"We'll stay here a couple of days," Tanner decided. "Give Mr. Hernandez and the animals a chance to rest and heal."
They were into range country now, with spring grass painting the ground a tender green. The animals could use a day or so of unhurried grazing and Peaches needed time to regain his strength. All Tanner had to do was try like hell to ignore the clock ticking in his head, counting off the days.
"Makes no never mind to me," Brown said, yawning hugely. "I wouldn't say no to a day or two of nothing but dozing and eating."
Tanner studied the surface of his coffee then looked up. "I'm obliged for what you did today."
"You sound surprised."
"I guess I am."
"You thought I'd let a black man die?" Standing, Brown stretched and pulled back his shoulders. "We need him to pack and unpack the mules."
Clenching his jaw, Tanner watched Jubal Brown saunter toward his tent. Some men were beyond understanding.
"You interested in some checkers?" Hanratty eased down on the grass beside him.
"Not tonight." Tanner looked toward Peaches's tent, wondering what Fox was saying that had made her smile. When she smiled, her face relaxed and she looked younger and softer.
"Interesting woman, that one," Hanratty said, nodding toward the tent. "I knew one like her once. Up north. Problem with women like her, they got no future. The woman I knew got herself hanged for rustling cattle. She didn't need those cattle. It was like she looked ahead and saw nothing, so she decided to let the law make it so."
Tanner couldn't guess where Hanratty intended to take this conversation, but he didn't want to hear it. Standing, he walked away from the fire, following purple shadows that lengthened as the sun slipped down the western curve of the sky.
He lit a smoke and studied the horses and mules, focusing particularly on the animals that had sustained injuries. Today had shocked him. Aside from the outlaws at the mining camp, the journey had been demanding but not unduly so. Tanner had let himself be lulled into forgetting this was a dangerous trek. They'd been fortunate so far.
"You have another of those cigars?"
"Yes." He hadn't heard her come up behind him.
"Thank you. What were you thinking about so hard?"
"I was thinking about you and how you've steered us clear of routes that could have been a lot more dangerous."
She glanced at him and arched an eyebrow. "I told you from the start this wouldn't be easy."
"How is Mr. Hernandez feeling?"
"He's stiff and sore, smashed up some, but there's no sign of fever, thank God. He's sleeping now." Tilting her head back, she blew a smoke ring into the evening air. "Peaches taught me how to make smoke rings. Peaches taught me everything I know that's worth knowing."
"He's a good man." During their time together, Tanner had come to respect Peaches Hernandez and enjoy his company. "I've encroached on your authority. I told Hanratty and Brown that we'd spend a couple of days here."
"That would have been my decision, too." She formed another smoke ring. "But don't make that kind of decision again w
ithout consulting me first, or we're going to have trouble."
Tanner smiled. One thing he liked about Fox, he always knew where he stood. She didn't mince words, didn't cloak her opinions in polite wrappings.
"There's something I have to say." She flipped her braid over her shoulder like she did when she was uncomfortable. "This is the slowest start to a liaison I ever heard of. I don't want to rush you along, but it would be helpful to know when you plan to begin the pursuit part."
He'd been pondering this question himself. "The terrain hasn't been conducive to much of a pursuit."
"I agree. Until today it hasn't."
"And it's been cold at night."
"The weather should get better now that we've come down into range country. It shouldn't be nearly as cold."
"Mostly I haven't figured out how to ensure some privacy." Men didn't pursue a woman in public. Courting, if that's what they intended to do, was a private matter. He didn't want to say something to Fox then hear it parroted back to him the next day from Hanratty or Brown.
"There's no real privacy on a trek of this kind," Fox stated flatly. "We'll have to make do."
He was reaching that conclusion.
"It's not like they don't expect us to want to be alone. We told them we're going to have a liaison."
"Well then." As casually as he could, he slipped an arm around her shoulder. Ordinarily he thought of Fox as tall, but actually she was a small woman.
When she stood beside him, the top of her head rose just above his shoulder. And he usually thought of her as substantial under her poncho, but touching her suggested small bones in keeping with her height. In fact, Tanner had no real notion of how she would look stripped of her oversized clothing. Thinking about it caused a stirring between his legs.
Fox adjusted herself under his arm and leaned slightly against his body. "I think we should shorten the pursuit part and get right to the liaison part. What do you think?"
Her hair had the clean fresh scent of river water overlaid by a warm musky scent that was hers alone.
"I'm willing to jump ahead to the liaison part," he said in a husky voice, wondering what she would do if he kissed the top of her head.
"I need to know a couple of days before the liaison so I can start putting Peaches's softening lotion on my fanny."
"What?"
"That's not part of my usual beauty routine. I didn't think about it until right now."
He stared down at her. "You want to put lotion on"
"On my fanny. In case you you know grab me there."
Instantly he had a full-blown and painful erection. Easing her away from his body, he tried to think of something to say. "That's considerate. I can imagine some grabbing taking place." Jesus. He could imagine every detail. He cleared his throat. "So. There's such an item as fanny-softening lotion?"
"I don't know, actually." She dropped her cigar and stepped on it. "Until recently, my only beauty routine was a regular bath and hair wash. I'll ask Peaches about it, but I'm guessing the same old bacon grease I'm using on my face and hands will do for my fanny."
"You use" Suddenly the smell of bacon was explained. He was glad she couldn't see the huge grin that spread across his lower face. "I'll tell you what. When we get to Denver, I'll buy you the biggest bottle of face and body lotion that I can find. As a parting gift." Her silence told him that he'd erred by mentioning parting.
"That's not necessary," she said finally. "Once we get to Denver, I won't need any lotions."
So the whole business of rubbing bacon grease on her face and hands was for his benefit. A sense of unease settled in his chest.
"No, I haven't expanded my beauty routine for your sake," she said, sounding angry. "I have reasons that don't have a damned thing to do with you." She started to walk away then came back. "We've decided to start immediately on a brief pursuit, correct?"
"That's my understanding."
"Good."
As he watched the sway of her hips moving away from him, three thoughts entered his head. She could read his mind. He didn't believe that the bacon grease was not for his sake. And he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted any woman.
Matthew Tanner had made up his mind that he was just the man to tame this unusual woman.
* * *
CHAPTER 11
"If I play one more game of chess, my head is going to explode." Fox rubbed her temples. "You couldn't let me win just once, could you."
"Now, Missy, you wouldn't like that. When the time comes that you beat me, you'll be glad the win is real."
"How are you feeling?"
"Stiff and sore. Mighty glad for the sun. Good enough that we don't need to lose another day on my account."
Fox didn't attempt to conceal a long hard examination. The swelling on Peaches's forehead and the left side of his face had diminished some. His cuts had scabbed over nicely, and she was no longer anxious that a fever would get him. But she knew he wasn't feeling up to snuff because he let her fuss over him. Peaches hadn't objected when she went to the trouble of cooking fried eggs just as he liked them instead of scrambling as usual. And he'd let her wash his clothes. That concession both amazed and worried her.
"You'll have to ride one of the mules," she said, wishing there was more spark in his eyes. "We can get rid of some things, redistribute the rest among the other mules." The ordeal in icy river water had worsened his congestion. She didn't like the sound of his cough.
Peaches nodded, turning a wooden knight in his hand. "I think Rebecca would be best for riding."
"We'll get you another horse as soon as it's possible."
"I've been thinking."
"Damn, I hate that as much as you hate it when I do some thinking."
They smiled at each other then Peaches said, "I was thinking about what my last request would have been if I'd had a chance to make one."
Fox's smile vanished. "I don't want to talk about that kind of thing, so stop right there."
"My deathbed request would be that you forget about killing Hobbs Jennings."
"Damn it, Peaches, that's not fair! I'm not going to promise that and you know it."
"You would deny a man's deathbed wish? Now, Missy, that ain't right."
She slammed the chess pieces into the box. "If you asked that of me on your deathbed, I'd want you to die in peace so I'd lie to you and make the promise. Is that what you want? Me going to hell for lying to a man on his fricking deathbed?"
"I don't want you getting yourself hanged over something that happened a long long time ago."
"I'm still paying for what Hobbs Jennings did to me. Every single damned day. Look over there." She nodded toward the willows where Tanner sat in the shade cleaning his pistols. "No matter what happens here," she smacked her fist against her heart, "me and Tanner agree to part ways in Denver. We both know I can't fit into his world. But I could have if Jennings hadn't stolen my inheritance!"
With her inheritance, she would have grown up in the same rarified world as Tanner. She wouldn't have to remind herself how to hold a fork, fancy manners would come automatically. She would own pretty lady clothes and know how to wear them right and be comfortable in them. She'd know how to talk to men like Tanner, would know what interested people of culture and refinement.
"Things are what they are," Peaches said quietly. "Killing Jennings ain't going to turn back the clock and put things right. Killing him isn't going to change anything except how long you live."
"I know it's too late to change anything," she said, standing and pulling her hat brim down to shade her eyes from the sun. "What I want is punishment. I want him to pay for stealing my mother's money and for throwing me away and robbing my future." She couldn't bear to look at Tanner, so she stared down at the chessboard on the short range grass. "Don't go asking me not to kill Hobbs Jennings on your deathbed."
"Deathbed requests aren't supposed to be easy. That's the whole point. If the request was an easy one, a person wouldn't have to wait for his death
bed to ask."
Fox looked around for Hanratty and signaled him to come and play checkers with Peaches. When Hanratty ambled toward them, she shoved on her blue sunglasses then wandered toward the laundered clothes she'd draped over the willows to dry in the sun.
"I've been waiting for you to finish your chess game," Tanner said, sighting down the clean barrel of his pistol.
"I didn't see you there," she said, as if she wasn't practically standing on his shirttail. She looked down at the array of weapons lined up near where he was sitting. "That's my rifle."
"I cleaned it for you." When she didn't say anything, Tanner squinted up at her, sunlight sharpening the craggy angles of his face. "This is part of my pursuit."
"Oh. Well then, I suppose it's all right." She thought a minute. "But don't get in the habit of messing with my belongings."
"I also picked you some flowers." He held out a bouquet.
Frowning, Fox considered the blossoms. She didn't know diddle about flowers. A rose she would have recognized, but these were tiny pink blooms and a spiky blue thing that she'd seen for years but had never given a thought to.
"Cleaning my rifle would have been enough." She didn't know what to do with the wildflowers.
"It seemed two gifts were appropriate for an accelerated pursuit." A smile curved his mouth. "And I have something else for you." Standing, he pointed to the ground. "Sit down, I'll just be a minute."
Fox looked back at the camp. No one lingered near the fire, it was too hot today. Hanratty and Peaches sat with heads bent over the checkerboard. Jubal Brown was out on the range among the animals, checking cuts and scrapes.
A huge white sky curved overhead. Spring sunshine spilled across the range tinting an awakening earth in tones of gold and green. The smell of sun-dried laundry drifted from the willows, and a drone of insects hovered above the splash and spray of rushing water.
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