Rue Allyn (11 page)

Ev refilled the cup and put it to her lips. “You’ve had a fever for a day and a half. I’m trying to sweat it out of you.”

She swallowed the last of the water in the cup. “Good idea. Might work better if we weren’t sitting on a mountain side.”

He refilled the cup, again holding it for her to drink. “If you weren’t hallucinating, we’re roughly half a day’s ride from where you keep the evidence you need to get.”

“I wasn’t hallucinating.”

He gave her more water. However, she refused a fourth cup.

“I understand that I need liquids, if we’re going to sweat this fever out. However, if I drink anymore, I’ll burst. I, uh, need to go relieve myself.”

He eyed her face and the sweat that trickled down her forehead and cheeks. “I don’t think you’re strong enough to stand, let alone walk very far.”

“I feel much better than when I woke, and I’d like to try. If I fall down, you can catch me.”

Ev couldn’t think of a better way to serve her needs. “All right, but I’m staying near.”

“Suit yourself. Now, help me up, please.”

Together they managed to get her standing. She staggered a bit when she walked, but anybody would in her condition.

He helped her to a sheltered spot then turned his back as she loosened her clothes to do her business.

She was steadier on the return walk to the lean-to and the fires then settled, cross-legged onto the buffalo robe. She still shivered from time to time but sweated less, and her gaze was clear-eyed. “If you’ll saddle the horses, I’ll pack up our gear, and we can get moving again. We’ll be at our destination before sundown.”

“You’re not well enough to ride.”

“I’m better than I was. Besides, if I relapse, I’d rather do it where I can sleep inside on a bed.”

Ev agreed but worried that the ride would take so much effort on her part that she wouldn’t recover. Boyd’s life depended on her recovery. Ev assured himself that Boyd’s life was the only reason he cared, not because of delirious kisses or … or, well anything besides Boyd. “Okay, but you won’t pack anything, and we stop if I say so.”

“Agreed.” She extended her hand. He shook it wondering if her grip was always this limp, or if the fever had weakened her too much.

Before noon they were on their way. Kiera swayed in the saddle, but she stayed there.

By early evening, she led them up the side of a tall slope to where low clouds clung to the ridgeline. She paused at the top with foggy wisps floating around her.

“Something wrong?” asked Quinn.

Kiera shook her head. “Just orienting myself, making certain we’re in the right spot and headed in the right direction.”

“You sure you know the way?”

“Rock certain.” A chill shook her. “From here, my horse could find the way even if I were comatose.”

“Let’s get going then, before we have to put your horse to the test.”

“Okay, but I want you to put your gelding on a leader and tie him to mine.”

“Why?”

“The ridgeline is wide and blocks the wind from blowing straight down into the next valley, so this fog is always here. It’s very thick, and at times you won’t be able to see your hand before your face. You could wander for days before you found the way down. Even then you might not find the trail that leads to my home. If we don’t want to get separated, your mount needs to be tied to mine.”

“Okay.” Ev linked the horses as she’d asked then returned to his saddle.

“Ready?”

“Yep.”

She kneed her mount forward and was swallowed in the fog before Quinn’s gelding lifted a hoof to follow.

Not even pretending to guide his horse while riding in such a thick mist created an eerie sensation. Birds still chirped, and small creatures scurried through underbrush that he couldn’t see. He felt a lot like he felt around Kat — certain that something unique was there but unable to penetrate the outer layers to discover the treasure beneath.

Eventually the trail began to slope downward and the fog thinned, disappearing as they lost altitude.

Kat pulled up on a rocky out-cropping. “Have a look, while you remove the lead rein.”

Ev dismounted, ambled over to stand beside her and her horse as he detached the rein, and looked out beyond the edge of the outcrop.

“Wow.”

He’d seen strikingly pretty sights before — the western territories were littered with dramatic scenery — but nothing had prepared him for the sight of the valley spread before them. A carpet of drought gilded grass covered the basin floor. A line of trees on the far side indicated a water source and told Ev that in years without drought, the valley would be emerald green. Toward the end farthest from his vantage point a small cluster of buildings and cleared land poised on the edge of a stream that sparkled in the sun. He followed the line of the stream back to where a waterfall tumbled from the mountainside.

“Welcome to my home.”

“Your home? I thought you lived with the Shoshone?”

She shook her head and began to turn her mount. “They would be happy to have me, but I have a penchant for solitude.”

Ev returned to his saddle. “How long have you been here?”

“A little less than a year and a half.”

“And you’ve built all that,” he referred to the clearing with the buildings.

“No. I found that.”

“You found what looks to be an entire town.”

“It was once, a mining town established during the Eighteen Sixty-Seven Wyoming gold rush. It’s a ghost town now.”

“What was it called?”

She shrugged. “The Shoshone and I call it Smoke Valley because the cloud cover on the ridges is thick like smoke. I don’t think the town was ever officially on any map, although it probably is now that I’ve laid claim to the entire valley.”

“How’d you do that? Must be well over one hundred sixty acres here.”

“I discovered that four tracts meet in the middle of the town. Since each tract had some improvements on it, I laid claim to all four tracts, six hundred forty acres.”

“That’s a heck of a lot of solitude.”

Her lips quirked. “It suits my needs. We’re losing the light. Let’s go.”

She nudged her horse forward down the slope into the valley.

Ev followed, marveling at a woman who would claim so much property just so she could be alone.

Weary beyond words, Kiera climbed the three steps that fronted her small cabin. The town had larger buildings, but the cabin held everything she needed and was easy to care for. She’d left Ev to settle the horses in the stable just beyond the corral that sat beside the cabin. In winter she was very grateful that she’d chosen a place where all the buildings were close together. Getting to the livestock through six feet of snow would be impossible if they were at the opposite end of town.

She lit a lantern to ward off the dimness in the cabin as night fell. Then she set the wrapped package of silver nitrate in a corner to be properly stored later, removed her hat, and hung it on a hook beside the door. She tossed her buffalo robe on the roughhewn cot that served as her bed and tended the chore of starting a fire in the potbelly on the far side of the cabin’s one room. That was, if you didn’t include the small addition she used for her photographic work.

Her stomach growled, and she knew Ev would be hungry as well, so she pumped water at the dry sink into a coffee pot and set it atop the stove to heat. Then she rummaged through the goods on her shelf for a can of beans. She opened that and set it too on top of the potbelly. The most immediate needs being seen to, she stood staring with fresh eyes at the things she’d come to love.

Ev probably wouldn’t think much of her home. The lamp only lightened the space around the table from dark to dim. The rest of the cabin remained in shadows. Everything was dusty, and nothing was new. Some of the china was chipped, but she was grateful to have plates. She didn’t need the fancy delftware, crystal, and silver settings of her childhood to be happy. She figured he wouldn’t be so proud as to refuse a meal served from a can instead of a chafing dish.

She checked the water and the beans. Added coffee to the pot and wondered what was keeping Ev. Too tired to go find him, she sat on the bed.

How much later she couldn’t tell, a sound woke her. A man’s dark shape stood at the potbelly and the smell of smoke filled her nostrils. She drew her pistol and cocked it without even thinking.

“Don’t shoot, Kat, it’s only me.” As he spoke, Ev raised his hands.

Disoriented with exhaustion and in the dim light Kiera had to be sure. “Turn around so I can see your face.”

He did as she ordered.

“Thank the lord.” Her shoulders slumped, and she uncocked the pistol all in one motion. She’d had no intention of falling asleep and never should have slept so deeply. She could only blame her recent illness for the confusion and fear that had raced through her. In the moment she woke, she’d thought herself back in the San Francisco bordello on that horrible night when Herbert died before her eyes.

Memories chilled her body, and she shuddered. The pistol dropped forgotten to the floor as she wrapped her arms around herself and failed to suppress a sob. If she started to cry, she wouldn’t be able to stop, and she didn’t want to show such weakness to Ev. Once he knew what a pansy she was, he’d have no trouble getting under her guard. She’d find herself in Laramie facing a hanging for sure.

Strong arms circled her. Ev lifted her then settled with her still in his arms at one end of the bed. “What is it Kat? What’s scared you so much?”

His unexpected gentleness undid her, and she buried her face against his shoulder to muffle the weeping that overcame her best efforts at restraint.

He let her cry, making no comment and showing no sign of impatience. He even handed her a kerchief when she was done to dry her eyes and blow her nose.

“Better?”

She nodded and forced herself to meet his gaze. Worry and remembered fear still danced a jig in her stomach. What would he think of her if she told him about Madame Duval’s bordello and Herbert? Shame almost overcame fear at the thought of the foolish trust she’d placed in a man. How could she trust Ev to understand — to not see her naiveté as proof that she was at heart a criminal? How could she expose herself to his disgust and ridicule?

“Think you could tell me about it now?”

Kiera swallowed and nodded again. If she must, she’d tell Ev all. There really was no sense in delaying, but maybe she could work up to it.

“Something spooked you. What was it?”

“You.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “Yeah, I got that. I startled you out of a sound sleep. But if you’d been certain it was me, you wouldn’t have pulled your gun.”

“I was disoriented, and the light’s so bad in here, I thought you might be a claim jumper, or worse.” That much was true. She had imagined he was someone far worse than a claim jumper or the marshal who wanted to compel her to stand trial. She’d thought he was a man intent on rape and forcing her into prostitution.

Ev’s face went hard, and his arms tightened around her. You’ve had trouble with claim jumpers?”

“Some. Mostly they just stumble on the town by accident and spend some time looking around before moving on. Every once in a while, someone who’s checked with the claims office and the assayer comes through looking for gold. If I’m here, I’m usually able to convince them all the gold is played out and I’m homesteading.”

“Any of them ever hurt you?”

“No. I don’t let them get that close. Also, the Shoshone taught me a few things about protecting myself.”

“A woman on her own is vulnerable. No matter what she knows, or how convincing she is, some man will always figure that he has a right to her. You really need to have someone else living with you.”

Kiera pulled herself from his grasp. She crossed the room to the potbelly, using its inadequate heat to replace the warmth of Ev’s arms. “Thank you for your advice, Marshal. You aren’t saying anything I haven’t heard before, but how I live should hardly matter to you. You intend to see that I hang. Now, I suggest we agree to disagree and see to having some dinner. What happened to the beans and coffee I started?”

• • •

Ev shrugged and reminded himself that she’d be in his custody for all the weeks from now until the end of her trial. Once that issue was resolved would be time enough for him to argue with her about her penchant for solitude.

“The pot boiled dry, and the beans were burnt, so I tossed them out.”

“Oh. I’ll start some more.”

He pushed her back onto the bed. “You’re still recovering. I’ll do it.”

“No, you’re my guest, and I won’t allow … ”

“You may not have a fever any more, but you’re weak as a kitten. After the past few days and that kiss we shared you can’t justify standing on formality with me, so let me make dinner.”

She turned wide eyes on him. “Kiss? What kiss?”

“Ah … um … you don’t remember?”

Her brows lowered. “I think I’d remember if I’d kissed you.”

“Well you were a tad delirious at the time. You called me Herbert. By the by, who is he?”

Her lips thinned, and her eyes narrowed. “I can make supper.”

“You aren’t going to tell me, are you? Fine, I can ignore you as well as you can ignore me.”

“It’s just beans and coffee,” she groused.

“Then I shouldn’t have any problem handling it. So lay back and rest.”

Though she clearly didn’t like it, she complied. She objected again but with just as little success when he insisted he would bed down on the hard plank floor. Ev knew he could be a remarkably stubborn man when he chose, and he chose now.

The next day Ev woke to silence. Early morning sunlight heated his face. His body was warm, so the potbelly must still be making heat, but no sound or smell stirred the quiet. He sat up. Kat was gone. A quick survey of the room showed that her saddle bags were missing.

“Dangit, when am I going to stop underestimating that woman? I coulda sworn she was too exhausted to skip out on me.”
Maybe she hasn’t,
countered the part of him that already seemed to believe her innocent.

He sighed, pulled on his coat and boots then stowed his gear in his saddlebags before braving the chill outdoors.