HisBootsUnderHerBed (15 page)

He shook his head. “But when I did, all I ever drew back was me pint of whiskey.”

Garth waited patiently as Paddy picked up the pint beside him and took a deep swallow.

Paddy swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and then continued. “When I saw that map on the floor, something told me this was me final chance. ‘Take it, Paddy,’ Satan whispered in me ear. ‘Tis your last chance.’ And in those few seconds, I sold me soul to the devil. And I’m thinking the day will be coming soon when I’ll have to face me maker, and he’ll be asking me the same question as you did.” Paddy glanced up sorrowfully. “And I’ve no excuse for the deed.”

“What do you expect me to say, Paddy? It was a wrong thing to do.”

“But you know the saddest part of it all, son?” He glanced at Rory. “All that time I was hoping for something better, I was richer than anyone I knew, and never gave it a thought. I’m ashamed of what I did, and know I’m not deserving of it, son—but I’m asking ye to forgive me.”

“It’s over, Paddy. I’d only be harming myself more than you, if I didn’t put it behind me.”

“You’re a good man, Garth Fraser, just like Rory keeps saying. I only wish I’d paid her more mind.”

Rory looked up and saw the two men staring at her.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed.

“We’re just admiring your beauty, Rory. It stands out like a fresh blossom in the midst of a weed patch.”

“From the looks on your faces I’d say it’s more like you’re thinking this bloom looks a little wilted.”

Her infectious laughter spread to Paddy and Garth, and all three of them were soon engulfed in unexpected merriment and peace.

G
arth was an early riser, and when Rory opened her eyes, she saw he was up and around. For several days things had been going well, with the exception of Paddy’s behavior. He made no effort to help with the workload, and disappeared every day only to return smelling of whiskey—but at least not drunk.

At the sight of the blanket slung over the rope, Rory saw that Garth had bathed. Figuring she might as well take advantage of it while he was gone, she gathered up what she needed and hurried to the falls.

The water was icy cold, but it opened her eyes. By the time she finished, she felt refreshed and wide awake. When she went back to the fire, she discovered Garth had returned with a load of wood.

“We used up most of the wood I had accumulated, so I thought I’d go and gather up some more,” he said.

“Do you want company?” she asked.

“If it’s yours, I’m up for it.”

“You’re always
up
for it, Fraser,” she said, trying to keep a straight face, knowing he was still sensitive about their last disastrous encounter.

“You understand, Miss O’Grady, that bawdy innuendos from a woman can often entice a man to
bigger
and
better
things.”

“I figure I don’t have to worry; I’m a virgin.”

He hugged her to his side. “Keep it up, lady, and that won’t be for much longer.”

For the next thirty minutes they accumulated a stack of wood, and before carrying it back to camp, they sat down to rest.

“So, how did you sleep last night?” he asked.

“Like a baby, after Pop’s snoring drove me out of the cave. What about you?”

“Great. I always sleep better with a bed partner.”

“We were not bed partners, Garth.”

“How would you know? You didn’t blink an eye all night.”

“You mean—”

“Well, I couldn’t very well let you lie there shivering after the campfire burned out.”

“You didn’t…I mean, did you…”

“After you rolled over and cuddled against me, what did you expect me to do? I put my arms around you and kissed you. I didn’t realize you were sleeping.”

“I don’t believe you. I would have wakened if you kissed me.”

“That explains it,” he said, drawing her into his arms.

“Explains what?”

“Why you didn’t kiss me back. I hope I have better luck this morning.”

His kiss sent shivers of delight spiraling through her, and whatever time they had left together, she wasn’t going to waste it by playing coy. She slipped her arms around his neck.

Feeling unsteady from the alcoholic stupor that sleep had failed to dissipate, Paddy opened his eyes and smacked his lips together several times. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He needed a hot cup of coffee to cut through the thick of it.

There was no sign of Rory or Garth outside, and no campfire, either. Why had they left without building a fire or brewing a pot of coffee? Paddy piled up some wood and tried to set a match to it.

After several failed attempts, he got a fire started and then stumbled back inside to get the coffee and pot.

Paddy went back outside, and after a great deal of fumbling and spilled coffee grounds, he set the coffee to brewing. A man needed a cup of coffee in the morning, the same way he needed a bit of a nip. A reminder he intended to see to at once.

He rooted around in the folds of his bedroll in search of his bottle, but couldn’t find it. Still clutching his pillow in his arm, like a child with a stuffed toy, he went back outside.

“She took it! Me only pleasure, and she took me bottle away. Treating me like a babe, she is. Me own flesh and blood!” He clutched his hands to his chest dramatically. “Och, ‘How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child,’ ” Paddy quoted, in the finest tenor worthy of a Shakespearean thespian.

Sizzling and spitting, the coffee started to boil over and he threw the pillow aside and tried to grab the coffeepot from the fire, knocking it over in the attempt. Frustrated, he kicked away the pot and the splattered log.

“Well, I’ve got me another pint.”

Unmindful that the log he had kicked away had landed on the pillow he’d tossed aside, Paddy shuffled down the trail.

“You have the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen,” Garth said, his head cradled in his hand as he lay on his side gazing at Rory. He played with some blond strands that clung to her cheek.

“I feel the same about your brown eyes.”

Garth chuckled and lay back. “Honey, men do not have beautiful eyes.”

Rory rolled over and cuddled against him with her head resting on his chest. “Who says so?”

“Me. But handsome’s good.”

“Very well, you have the handsomest brown eyes I’ve ever seen.”

He scrunched up his nose in disapproval. “That doesn’t sound too great, either. Forget my eyes, and let’s get back to yours. What color of eyes did your mother have?”

“Blue. Same as Pop’s.”

“Then where did that slight mingling of green come from?”

“Must be the Irish in me coming out. And speaking of the Irish, I better get back. Pop’s probably awake and looking for his coffee.” Rory sat up.

“Paddy told me the truth about the map. Why did you lie to me, Rory?”

“At the time, I believed you might have harmed him.”

“Good God! Do you think I’m some kind of savage who would harm a sick old man?”

“Will you please not shout?”

“Well, why did you let me go on all this time believing you were a thief?”

“I thought of telling you, but I had nothing to gain if I did. Besides, you wouldn’t have believed me anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

She looked him boldly in the eyes. “So now that you know differently, does it actually make a difference to you?”

“Certainly. I can respect you a lot more than I did before.”

“Hip, hip, hooray! But in the end, it doesn’t change anything.”

“No, because the theft of the map is no longer an issue with me. As I told Paddy, I put that behind me some time ago.”

“Well, it matters to me,” she declared. “And while we’re on the subject, Garth Fraser, I want to make something very clear. I’ve only told you
one
lie—and that was only to help my father. I’ve never cheated anyone in my life, but
you
act as if it’s a way of life with me. I’ve never come near being as intimate with any other man as I have with you, even though you believe I’m a cheap saloon girl. So that speaks more poorly of your actions, than it does mine—because you’re the one who’s trying to take my virginity, knowing how you really feel about me.

“Well, I’m through with waiting for your pats of approval. Save them for Saddle.” She started to walk away, then spun on her heel.

“Furthermore, as long as we’re talking about honesty, I don’t trust anyone who’s as cheerful as you are in the morning.”

She left him with a bewildered look on his face.

Garth caught up with her and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

“You are one feisty little female, Miz Rory. But I like it. Must be why I’m so attracted to you.”

“Or maybe because I’m the only female around.” Rory stopped abruptly. “Is that smoke?” she asked, pointing ahead.

“Sure is, and looks like it’s coming from where the mine is located.

“Bandits?” she asked, alarmed.

“Stay here while I check it out. Saddle, stay with her,” he ordered, and took off on a run.

The burro was lying on the ground and the air was filled with the loud neighs and whinnies of the other panic-driven animals as they reared and yanked at the bonds that tethered them to the nearby trees. The scrub around the base of the mine was in flames and had spread to the foliage that concealed the entrance. Crawling flames and thick smoke prevented Garth from entering the mine.

“Paddy, are you in there?” he shouted. When there was no answer, he repeated his call several times.

“Pop,” Rory cried, appearing suddenly at Garth’s side.

“I told you to stay back,” he yelled. “If he’s in there, he’s okay, the fire can’t burn through rock.”

“But the smoke?”

“The cavern’s large, Rory,” he yelled, and raced over to the animals. Boots fought the reins, but Garth managed to untie him and get him over to a tree upwind from the fire.

“Be careful, the smoke’s got them spooked,” Garth warned, when Rory started to do the same for one of the mules. A flying hoof came down on her foot, and she winced with pain but managed to hold on to the reins.

As soon as Garth moved the other mule to safety, he knelt over the suffering burro lying on the ground. One of its legs was broken.

Unable to watch, Rory turned her head away when he drew his Colt, held it against the animal’s head to muffle the sound, and pulled the trigger.

While Garth beat at the fire with a horse blanket, Rory poured buckets of water along the edges of the flames until the fire was isolated near the entrance of the cave, where they were able to finally squelch the last of the flames.

“Stay here,” Garth ordered, and he went inside to check out the mine. There was no sign of Paddy, and even though his bedroll had been pulled apart, everything else in the cave appeared untouched.

After checking the rear of the cavern, Garth rejoined Rory. “No sign of him.” Spying an object on the ground, he bent down and picked up the blackened coffeepot.

“From the looks of this, I’d say that Paddy started to make coffee and got interrupted.”

“Do you think he was attacked by a wild animal?”

“I don’t know, Rory. My common sense tells me that an animal big enough to drag off a human would have gone for Boots or one of the mules. He probably just took off the way he always does, and left the fire unattended.”

“Why must you always suspect the worst of my father?” she snapped.

“I
was
giving him the benefit of the doubt,” he said, exasperated. “I could have suggested he got careless and started a fire, then ran away leaving the animals behind to perish in the flames.”

“That’s what you’re really thinking, isn’t it?”

“Rory, I’m not going to argue about it. It’s just another example of his carelessness and irresponsibility. Probably every bandit within a hundred miles has seen the smoke, and now the foliage that concealed the entrance to the mine is gone. The mine can be spotted easily now by man or beast.”

“The mine! Is that all you think about? You’re as bad as Pop.” She limped away in anger.

“Rory, come on back. I don’t want you alone, and…why are you limping?” He plopped down on the ground. “Oh, hell!” He was fed up with the whole damn situation. “Go with her, Saddle. I have to clean up this mess.”

Her foot was aching so badly that Rory didn’t get far. After a short distance, she was forced to sit down and lean back against a tree.

Saddle came up and stretched out with his head in her lap. “He’s right, you know, Saddle. It’s just that he makes me so angry. Everything he does seems to be the right thing to do, and he doesn’t realize how irritating it is to people who aren’t as perfect as he.

“But you know what’s the most frustrating? He doesn’t intentionally try to be right about everything. He just always is. How
could
Pop have been so careless? This whole area could have gone up in flames if we hadn’t caught it in time.”

And stupidity must run in the family, because she was sitting here pouting, when Garth was right and there was work to do. She’d rest her foot just a few more minutes, then she’d go back and help.

“I surely hope Garth will be over his anger by then, Saddle, and we won’t have any more cross words between us. He never stays angry for too long.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tree.

“Rory, wake up.”

She opened her eyes to discover Garth bending over her. “Are you okay?”

“Oh…yes, I’m fine. I must have dozed off.” Rory got to her feet. She yelped with pain when she put her weight on her left foot, and she started to collapse. Garth caught her just before she went down.

“What’s wrong?”

“The mule stepped on my foot.”

He picked her up in his arms and carried her back to camp.

Garth set her down on an upturned keg and got down on his knees. She winced with pain when he tried to remove her boot.

“Honey, your foot’s so swollen I can’t get your boot off. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“We had our hands full at the time, remember?”

He gingerly tried to remove the boot again, and she sucked in a breath from the pain.

“It looks like I’m going to have to slice the boot to get it off you.”

“No, these are the only boots I have.”

“Honey, it’ll be too painful to pull it off.”

“I’ll need the boot, Garth.”

“All right—if that’s what you want. There’s no gentle way to do it, though.”

“Just get it over with.”

He curled his fingers around her leg, and grasped the heel of her boot. “You understand if it’s broken, I might have to shoot you,” he said, in an attempt to take her mind off the pain.

“Very funny, Garth, but it’s my foot, not my leg.” Then she cried out when he began to work the boot off her foot. Her breath came in short gasps as she fought the urge to scream. If only she could black out until he finished—but she’d never fainted in her life.

“Let it out, baby. Swear, scream, do what you have to. Don’t try to hold it in.”

“When I…get off…this moun…tain. I’m…never going…to put…on a…high boot…again!” she managed to cry out between gasps of pain.

“There, it’s off,” he finally said, sliding the top of the boot past her toes.

Garth gingerly peeled off her stocking and cradled her foot in the palm of one hand as he gently examined her foot with his other.

“Nothing feels broken, honey, but that doesn’t mean it’s not. It’s badly bruised, and will probably look even worse by tomorrow. You want to lie down while I get a bucket of cold water? Soaking it will help bring the swelling down.”

“Do you mind bringing my bedroll out here? I’d rather be in the sunshine than the cave.”

As she waited, Rory glanced around at the campsite. There was quite a change in it from the time she’d left. Fortunately none of the flames had reached the trees. Garth had pulled out all the remnants of the burned foliage and cleaned up the area. Now that it was barren, she was surprised to see that the thick, high foliage had concealed not only the crevice in the rock, but several huge boulders and rocks around the base of the cave. Boots and the mules were tethered in their regular spot, and other than the faint smell of the smoke that still remained, one would never have guessed the chaos that had reigned earlier.