Deborah Camp (10 page)

“Not much,” Tucker admitted.

“Well, they don’t forget. When they mark a man for death, they mean to kill him. Copper took a big chance bringing you here and harboring you from them: If she hadn’t fooled them into thinking you’d died and she’d buried you, they would have raided her cabin, killed you and her, and then burned this place to the ground.”

Tucker held his breath, feeling as if Father Christmas had spit in his face. He swallowed hard and blinked to clear his vision.

“Didn’t know that, huh?” Gus asked.

“No, sir, I didn’t. I owe her my life, but I didn’t know that she placed herself in such danger for me.” He tipped his head to one side. “Why
did
she?”

Gus shrugged. “Damned if I know. Got a soft heart for green-eyed men with broke legs and arrows sticking outta their chests, I guess.” He lifted a string of game from around his saddle horn. “See to my mule, Yankee. Is Copper around or is she off checking her traps?”

“She’s inside with the baby.”

Gus whirled around, his mouth agape. “Baby, you say?”

“Yes, she had a girl three weeks ago.” Tucker couldn’t keep the silly grin off his face. “I helped deliver her. Copper named her Valor.”

Gus let out a whoop and headed for the cabin, his swaying gait exaggerated as if he walked on
stumps instead of jointed legs. He flung open the door without preamble.

“When I woke up this morn, it felt more crowded, and I said to myself. That Copper girl has gone and brought another being into these mountains,’” he bellowed, his voice carrying outside to Tucker. “Had to saddle up and come see for myself. Uncover the babe’s eyes, Copper, and let her gaze upon a handsome face for a change.”

Laughing under his breath, Tucker loosened the saddle’s belly strap and let the mule out into the corral. He heard Gus’ raspy chuckle as he stepped through the open cabin doorway. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust from the brilliant sunlight to the dim interior. Gus sat in a chair and cradled the baby in his arms. Copper stood nearby, her face wreathed in a beatific smile, the potency of which stopped Tucker in his tracks.

Wearing a linsey-woolsey shirt of lemon yellow and a bleached wool skirt, she stood in front of the hearth and its flickering light bled through her clothes. The outline of her body drew Tucker’s slow-moving gaze—high, full breasts, indented waistline, round hips, long, lean, shapely legs. He’d viewed her as a mirage, a savior, a nurse, a miracle worker, and a mother, but until that moment he hadn’t seen her as an available woman. Longing careened through him and nose-dived to his crotch. He wanted nothing more fervently than to send his tongue deep into her mouth and bury himself in her.

Valor waved her tiny fists and Copper smiled. Her dark eyes danced with lights. She wrinkled her nose and dimples sprang into her lightly freckled cheeks. To Tucker’s eyes, she was as dazzling as the Big Dipper on a clear winter night, but infinitely more accessible.

He ran a hand distractedly through his hair and tried to rein in his tormenting desires. God, it
had
been a long time since he’d been with a woman. Months and months. No wonder he was hard pressed not to be—he glanced at the front of his trousers and grinned—well, hard and pressing.

“Your dead soldier made himself useful when this one was bursting into the world, did he?” Gus asked, slicing through Tucker’s self-evaluation.

Copper actually directed her smile at Tucker, and Tucker knew he had Gus to thank for getting her in a good mood again.

“Yes, he did well. His soldier training came to fore just when we both needed it.”

“Guess that’s something good we can say about soldiering,” Gus said, bitterness evident in his lined face. “I was being trained as a soldier once upon a dreary year. Hiyup, I was. But I got shed of that and headed for these mountains. Never looked back. Didn’t like clicking my heels and saluting men no better than me.”

“Which regiment?” Tucker asked, coming closer to admire the baby.

Gus shrugged. “None. T’was military school. I’m a mountain man now and that’s all I care to remember about myself.” He lifted Valor higher. “Want to hold her?”

“Don’t mind if I—” Tucker was already reaching for the baby when Copper snatched her away. “Something wrong with me holding the baby, Copper?” Tucker challenged, his anger rising like a storm in his chest.

“Don’t be so touchy. She’s had enough excitement, that’s all. I’m putting her down so she can sleep.” Copper placed the baby in the cradle and covered her with the silver wolfskin rug. “See what a pretty robe this made for her, Gus? Told you it’d be perfect.”

Gus craned his neck to see the furry covering. “Mighty pretty,” he agreed, then gave her a measured stare. “Copper, you act like a grizzly mama
with her first cub. What’s wrong with this young man holding that baby? Looks to me like he’s got enough sense not to drop her on her head.”

“I’m not reflecting poorly on him. I just want her to sleep now. I know what’s best for my own baby, don’t I?”

“Hmmm.” Gus sat back, his eyelids heavy with skepticism. “I know what’s ailing you. This soldier boy doesn’t look like Stands Tall to me. Doesn’t act much like him neither.”

Tucker glanced from Gus to Copper. “Who’s Stands Tall?”

“Her husband.”

“He
was
my husband,” Copper corrected, rocking the cradle. She bent over it and her hair fell in a shimmering red curtain alongside her face to hide her expression from the men. “She’s already asleep. Told you she needed rest.”

Tucker’s leg began to ache and he sat in the nearest chair. “Why don’t you just tell the truth? You don’t want me touching your baby. In fact, you don’t want me around her or you. You’d be happy as a cat if you woke up tomorrow morning and I was long gone.” The more he talked, the angrier he became until it was the words fueling his anger, instead of the other way around.

“Well, believe me, lady, I
would
hike out of these mountains if I thought I could make it one day out there with this bum leg of mine. You’ve made it abundantly clear that I’ve outstayed my welcome. In fact, I’ve felt here lately that I should sleep with one eye open for fear that you might try to tomahawk me in the middle of the night.” He didn’t mean one word of the last, but it came out with a hefty dose of venom and he knew in his gut it was spawned by his own sexual deprivation. A man without a woman quickly becomes a beast, he thought, feeling the senseless rage howl inside him.

Silence greeted his tirade. From the corner of his eye, Tucker saw Gus’ raised eyebrows and bemused smirk. Gus looked back and forth between Tucker and Copper. Copper glared at Tucker, hands on hips, her brown eyes smoking, her breasts rising and falling with her agitated breathing. From the look on her face, if he’d handed her the tomahawk at that moment she would have gladly split his head open with it. He shrugged, wanting to take his words back, but stymied by his stinging pride.

“Must have been right engaging in this cabin of late,” Gus said, his tone bouncy with humor. “Sorry I’ve waited so long to visit. Nothing more entertaining than two hissing, clawing polecats going at each other.”

“Tomahawk?” Copper finally spit out. “You think I’m nothing but a savage, do you?”

“I said no such thing,” Tucker grumbled. He crossed his arms and angled sideways to escape her scathing regard.

Gus cleared his throat. “Soldier, why don’t you make yourself useful and cut up these squirrels and rabbits for a stew? Copper, you can use your tomahawk chopping some turnips and onions for the pot. Me, I’m going to settle back for a little smoke.” He lounged in the chair and took an animal bone pipe from the possibles bag hanging from his belt. He filled it from a tobacco pouch slung around his neck and lit the aromatic mixture with an ember from the hearth fire. His blue eyes danced as he glanced at an immobile Tucker and Copper. “You turned to stone?”

With a huffing breath, Copper marched to the table and took up a knife. The blade flashed wickedly as she slashed turnips and onions. Tucker sat at the hearth and jointed the skinned and gutted animals. He dropped the parts into the stew pot, all the while keeping an eye on Copper. An apology
weighted his tongue, but he pressed his lips together to keep it inside. Damn her, she’d treated him like a stray dog for days! She should be the one asking forgiveness.

Tomahawk! Copper thought, bringing the blade of her knife neatly through another turnip. She wasn’t
anybody’s
squaw. After all she’d done for him, this was her thanks. The man thought she might murder him in his sleep. Why did he make such a fuss about the baby? Most men didn’t want to have anything to do with a newborn. If she’d told him to take care of the baby, he would have whined and complained! Oh, there was no sense in any man. They all possessed more muscle than mind.

She didn’t have to give him a reason for her reluctance to hand her baby over to him. Besides, he wouldn’t understand. He’d probably think Stands Tall was right and that her husband had done her a good turn. Micah McCall had once voiced that notion, spouting nonsense about what a stone her child would have been around her neck. She had decided then and there that she’d discourage Micah’s attentions.

Gus, of course, was different. She trusted Gus because Gus had earned her trust. But what did she really know about Tucker Jones? Why shouldn’t she be uneasy having him around her baby? She’d trusted her husband, and look what had happened! She recalled her vow to raise her next child alone after she had been thrown out of the Crow village. A good promise, she told herself. All Valor needed was her.

The mean inner voice faded, giving her heart a chance to speak. Instantly, Copper felt contrite. Maybe she should tell Tucker about Stands Tall. She glanced over her shoulder at him and caught him looking at her. He jerked his gaze from hers. The strong planes of his face, lit by firelight, entranced
her. A lock of his sandy brown hair fell negligently across his forehead. She watched his hands, strong and sure, boning the meat and dropping the chunks into the pot. Her heart spoke again and she listened.

He’s a good man, she allowed, recalling his gentleness during and after the birth. She liked his sense of humor and infectious grin. She liked it when he called her “darlin’ ” and “sugar,” too, although it took a lot out of her to admit that, even to herself.

Scrutinizing him more fully, she allowed that he was one of the best looking white men she’d ever come across. She remembered how his handsomeness had delighted her when she’d cleaned blood and dirt off him that first day. Now that his health had returned he was even better on the eyes. Abruptly, as if sensing her keen perusal, his gaze slid to hers. Copper’s heart flip-flopped and her breathing grew shallow as she realized that the flames leaping in his green eyes were no longer fed by anger, but by desire.

Startled, she looked away. She stared sightlessly at the turnip before her. Had she really seen desire for her in him? Yes, and why not? He was a man, wasn’t he? A man without a female for … how many months? She could be a four-hundred-pound tub on legs and he’d want her just as bad.

Almost against her will, her gaze slipped back to him. Naked longing tipped up one corner of his mouth in a grin so seductive he left no doubt what was foremost on his mind. Copper stared straight ahead again. The knife trembled in her hands and she dropped it to grip the edge of the table and steady herself. Gus chuckled.

“What’s tickling you, old man?” Copper asked, glad for the diversion.

“Oh, I was just enjoying the scenery.” Gus puffed on his pipe.

Tucker straightened and glanced around. “What scenery?”

“Don’t ask,” Copper said, catching the mischievous glint in Gus’ eyes.

Gus laughed deeply, sounding like an old grizzly. He plucked at the front of his shirt. “Sure is steamy in here. Reckon you two don’t need a fire to keep the temperature rising.”

“Hush up, Gus.” Copper dumped the chopped turnips and onions into the stew pot. Her hip grazed Tucker’s shoulder. Her knees almost buckled. Ashamed at her own quivering awareness of Tucker, Copper sat on the edge of the hearth and listened to her pulse boom in her ears. She dared not look at Tucker for fear he would see that she couldn’t control herself.

“Having yourself a dizzy spell, girl?” Gus asked.

“You going to make stew or make fun?” Copper snapped.

“Can’t a body do both?” Gus dug into his possibles bag again. “Better talk sweet to me, Copper. I brought you a present. Something you’ve been hankering for, I do believe.”

Copper slanted him a look. “What?” she asked, hooked.

Gus withdrew a small hand mirror from the bag. “Looky here. Got this from a trading man. When I saw it, I knew you’d dote on it. A girl as pretty as you likes to admire what God has made. Your old mirror is cracked, I do believe. Ought to toss it out and use this one.” He gave her the ivory-handled mirror.

Copper smiled at her reflection. “I’m not pretty, but I thank you for the gift. You’re right. I’ll throw the other one away.” She swallowed and pushed aside a bad memory. “Many thanks, Grizzly Gus.”

“Ever see any firecrackers, Yankee?”

Tucker forced his attention from Copper to Gus, who held out some paper-covered sticks with long
fuses. He stared at them for a few seconds, his eyes still dazzled by the natural beauty of Copper’s oval-shaped face, his mind occupied with his need to tell her that she was pretty. More than pretty. Finally, he shook free of her spell and focused on the objects Gus held out to him.

“That trader says these was made by Chinamen.”

“Firecrackers?” Tucker laughed and examined the six small sticks. “These bring back memories. Every Fourth my grandfather used to shoot these off. I remember the first time.” He laughed again. “They scared the peewaddlin’ out of me. Made an awful noise. I thought we’d all been shot dead.”

“The trader swears they throw off colored lights.”

“Probably do,” Tucker said, examining the peppermint striped sticks and the cotton fuses. “Have you ever seen any go off?”

“Once, a couple of years ago.” Gus waved them aside when Tucker tried to give them back. “Take them, soldier. When you throw that firewood cane away, you can set one of them off to celebrate.”