Northwoods Nightmare (8 page)

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Authors: Jon Sharpe

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Westerns

BOOK: Northwoods Nightmare
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The darkness was an inky cocoon, the wilderness unusually still. But it was early yet. Soon the meat eaters would be on the prowl, filling the night with their howls and roars and screeches.
“You sure are,” Fargo said. Once again he placed his hands on the swell of her hips, and pulled her to him. Her breath fluttered on his cheek. She had the aspect of a frightened doe about to bolt.
“My, you work fast.”
“Half an hour isn't a lot of time unless you like it hard and fast.” Fargo liked it any way he could get it, but some women weren't fond of quick. They preferred to take their time and to kiss and fondle. Some women even had to be courted first, with a meal and flowers and a night on the town. Then there were those, thankfully few, who demanded the man get down on his knees and beg for it.
Fargo had never begged for it in his life, and he would be damned if he ever would. Either the woman wanted to or she didn't, and if she didn't, he moved to greener pastures. It was that simple.
“I don't mind hard and fast—”
“Good.” Fargo reached for her breasts.
“—provided we build up to it easy and slow.”
Fargo cocked his head. Only a woman would say something like that. “Whatever you want.” He cupped her breasts and squeezed.
“Ohhh!” Angeline arched her back, her luscious lips parted. “You won't hurt me, will you?”
“Does this hurt?” Fargo asked, and pinched her nipples. He covered her lips with his and she gasped into his mouth. He reached behind her and cupped her bottom and kneaded it while slowly easing her back against a spruce. Angeline moaned. The feel of her silken dress and the hint of delights under it were intoxicating. Their kiss went on and on, until finally he broke it.
“Marvelous,” Angeline breathed huskily, her eyes hooded with burning desire.
“I'm just getting started.” Fargo ran his hand from her knee to the junction of her thighs. She was warm to the touch and growing warmer. He went to hike up her dress so he could slide his hand underneath when she stiffened and pushed against his shoulders.
“No!”
“What the matter?” Fargo hadn't taken her for a tease.
Angeline put her lips to his ear and whispered in fear, “We're being watched!”
8
Fargo spun in the direction she was pointing.
Deep in the gloom was a dusky silhouette. The shape was human—of that there was no doubt.
“Is it one of our party?” Angeline anxiously whispered.
“Stay here.” Fargo moved toward the silhouette, his hand on his Colt. He strained to make out details. Suddenly he realized a hand was clinging to the back of his shirt. “I told you to stay where you were.”
“Nothing doing. If it's not one of ours, it could be a hostile or an outlaw or God knows what.”
Fargo let her cling. He took a few more steps, and the shape was gone. One instant it was there; the next it wasn't.
“Where did it get to?” Angeline asked.
“Hush.” Fargo suspected the person had gone to ground. He cautiously advanced until he was about where the shape had been. No one was there. He bent but it was too dark to read prints, if there even were any.
“That was scary.”
“‘Hush' means ‘hush.'” Fargo stood and listened. The wind in the trees was all he heard.
Angeline glued herself to his side and glanced nervously about. “Is it safe for us to be out here?”
For an answer, Fargo cupped her bottom.
“What do you think you're doing?”
“Taking up where we left off.” Fargo went to kiss her but she stepped back.
“After what we just saw? How can you even think I would want to? Be sensible.”
“Whoever it was ran off. We're fine.” Fargo reached for her again.
“ ‘No' means ‘no,' ” Angeline mimicked him, and pushed against his chest. “Take me back. I couldn't now. I'm sorry. That's just how it is.”
Fargo bit off a few choice words. Taking her hand, he made for camp. When the campfires appeared, she stopped pressing against him.
“We must tell Father. Maybe you should organize a search and take torches and scour the woods.”
“If whoever it was is still out here, they'd see us.”
“It's worth a try.”
“The men are tired and hungry. I'll look myself come morning. If there are tracks I'll find them.”
“Why must you be so pigheaded?”
“Why must you be a nag?”
That shut Angeline up. She didn't say another word until they emerged from the forest. “Thank you for the walk,” she declared, and headed for her tent.
Fargo sighed and went to a fire where McKern and Rohan and others were hunkered. He sank down next to the old man. “Seen anyone leave camp in the past twenty minutes?”
“Besides you and the pretty filly? No, I did not.”
Rohan said, “We figured you were showing her all about the birds and the bees. But you weren't gone long enough for that.”
“Show some respect,” McKern said.
“I wasn't poking fun. It's what comes natural. Horses do it all the time. The other night that stallion of his took an interest in one of the mares, but she wasn't in the mood.” Rohan chuckled. “I would have loved to watch them go at it. Ever seen how big a stallion gets?”
“You are a strange man.”
Fargo left them and went to the cook fire. He always ate with the Havards. Ordinarily he didn't mind because it gave him a chance to talk to Angeline. But tonight she was quiet and withdrawn. No one seemed to notice. Theodore mentioned how glad he was that their journey would soon be over. Edith said as how she couldn't wait to see Kenneth again.
“If he's still alive,” Allen remarked.
“I won't have talk like that. He has to be.”
“No one ever has to be anything, Mother. Certainly I want to find Kenneth alive and well. But we must be realistic. This country is overrun with savages and badmen. Have you forgotten those men we buried today?”
Edith shot a sharp look at Fargo. “I haven't forgotten anything, thank you very much. But I won't have you suggesting the unthinkable.”
Theodore said curtly, “That's enough, both of you. And, Allen, so what if this country is hard on men? Your brother can take care of himself. Spare your mother her feelings, if you don't mind, and even if you do.”
“Yes, Father.”
Cosmo, who was filling a bowl with soup, drily commented, “At times like this, I wonder why I never had a family of my own.”
“Don't start,” Theodore said.
Fargo tried to catch Angeline's eye but she deliberately avoided looking at him. He was about done with his stew when Theodore had a question.
“How long can you stay with us? I contracted for you to bring us here, but that was all. And I'd like for you to stick around and help us if it turns out Kenneth isn't at Boston Bar, as we hope.”
Fargo hadn't given the matter any thought, and said so.
“I'll pay you however much you would like.”
Allen stopped eating and scowled. “Honestly, Father, it's a wonder we have any money left, the way you squander it.”
“It's
my
money and I'll do with it as I please. Don't worry. I'll leave you enough of an inheritance to get by.”
“I expect a third, nothing less.”
Theodore started to rise but Cosmo glanced at him and shook his head and Theodore sank back down. “You'll take what I leave you and be glad I left you anything. And for your information, it won't be a third. There's your mother and you and your brother and sister. Plus a few others.”
“By a few you mean Cosmo.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Edith said, “Allen, don't.”
“It's time it came out, Mother,” Allen responded. “So tell us, Father. Are you leaving a sizable amount to your precious friend?”
Now Theodore did rise, and he was shaking with barely contained fury. “I will thank you not to talk about him that way. He has been of more worth to me than you could ever hope to be.”
Allen stood, too. “Of course he has. But then, I'm only your son.”
Angeline finally broke her silence. “Let it drop. You do none of us any favors.”
To Fargo's surprise, Allen glanced at him.
“Do you hear this? Perish forbid we should air our dark family secrets in public. But you see how it is, don't you? How a son can rate so low in his own father's affections?”
Theodore balled his bony fists. “That has nothing to do with Cosmo and everything to do with you and your attitude. You are insolent. You are lazy. You talk about squandering? Any money I leave you, you'll waste on the nightlife you love so much.”
“Culture is costly, Father. But very well. As usual, everyone is against me. If you'll excuse me, it's been a trying day and I think I'll retire.” Allen wheeled and strode to his tent. At the flap he looked back. “A last thought, Father. It could be I'm more loyal than any of them. Did you ever think of that?
I've kept your secret all these years, haven't I?” The flap closed behind him.
“I never,” Edith said.
Theodore sadly bowed his head. “I've given him everything and this is how he repays me.”
“Pay him no mind, Father,” Angeline said. “He delights in upsetting people. It's in his nature.”
Cosmo cleared his throat. “Might I suggest we forget his ill manners and enjoy our meal?”
Fargo had had enough. He refilled his tin and walked off. The camp was quiet save for low voices and an occasional laugh. Overhead, myriad stars gleamed. He bent his head back and was admiring them when someone spoke almost at his feet.
“Be careful or you will step on us.”
Teit and Chelahit were huddled next to each other, nearly invisible in the dark.
It occurred to Fargo that he hadn't laid eyes on them since the sun went down. “What are you two doing over here by yourselves?”
“It is best.”
Fargo squatted. “Best how?” He went to take a sip of coffee and her grandfather sniffed.
Teit nodded toward the campfires. “They do not want our company. McKern is nice to us. And the horse man, Rohan. But the rest look at us with suspicious eyes.”
“There's no shortage of stupid in this world.” Fargo held his cup closer to them and her grandfather sniffed again. “Have you two had a bite to eat or anything to drink?”
“I did not want to impose.”
“Hell.” Fargo rose and walked to the cook fire. He filled two bowls, put wooden spoons in them, and carried the bowls back. “Here. And don't give me any bull about not being hungry.”
“We have no money to pay you.”
“Who asked for any?” Fargo placed a bowl in her lap and touched the other bowl to her grandfather's chest. The old man went to take it but hesitated, turned his head to her, and said something in their own tongue. She answered, then looked up.
“Why are you being so kind to us?”
“You're hungry. Eat.” Fargo touched the bowl to the grandfather again and this time he took it. He returned to the fire and filled two cups with coffee. As he was about to walk off, Edith Havard cleared her throat.
“Are those for that squaw and her grandfather?”
Fargo nodded.
“You have your gall. You might ask before you share our food. We paid for the supplies, not you.”
“You'd deny them this little bit?”
“They're Indians,” Edith said, as if that were cause enough. “And you're the one who invited them along. You should have thought of their stomachs sooner and shot game for them to eat.”
“Now, Mother,” Angeline said.
“Don't take that tone with me, young lady. You father can sit here mute if he wants, but I will speak my mind. It frustrates me no end, the liberties our guide takes.”
Fargo made no attempt to hide his contempt. “I have to hand it to you, lady.”
“Hand what?”
“I've met some bitches in my time, but you are at the top of the heap.” Fargo left her fuming. People like her were the reason he couldn't stand civilization for more than short spells. He crossed to the Nlaka'pamux.
“Thank you. My grandfather is very fond of coffee.” Tiet paused. “I saw you arguing with the white woman with eyes of flint. Did she not want you to bring these to us?”
“Who cares what she wants?” Fargo sat cross-legged and propped his elbows on his knees. “We need to talk, you and me.”
“We do?”
“Kenneth Havard.” Fargo held up a hand. “Don't deny you've heard of him. I saw your face earlier. What do you know that I should know?”
Holding the cup in both hands, Teit blew on the coffee to cool it. “I am sorry. If I tell you and his family finds out, there will be much trouble.”
“Is he dead?”
“Please.”
“It's easy to answer. Yes or no. If it's yes, where's the grave? I'll take them there and they can be on their way.”
Teit lowered the cup and bowed her head. “You do not understand.”
“I'm trying.” Fargo was glad to be proven right but puzzled by her reluctance to say. Then it hit him. “Are the Nlaka'pamux involved? Did he do something to anger them and pay with his life?”
“My people would never harm Kenneth Havard. His heart, like yours, is good.”
“Is? Then he
is
still alive?”
“I never said that.”
Fargo wouldn't let it drop. “But where did he get to? And why did he stop writing his folks?”

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