Trail of Golden Dreams (7 page)

Grey searched her
face, figuring he deserved that remark.  Normally, it wasn’t his way to
speak unkindly to women.  It was just that he’d been smoldering for
days.  When he found his gold missing, and another miner told him he’d
seen Leroy heading north, he’d packed up and followed his tracks.  The
vein he’d discovered had about dried up, and he’d tired of mining. 
Besides, he wasn’t a greedy man.  The nuggets Leroy stole were enough to
get Rusty back and buy a little ranch.  That’s all he cared about.

Unfortunately,
he’d lost Hart’s trail when a freak storm hit that first day out and washed
away all signs of tracks.  But he knew enough about Hart to decipher where
he’d eventually end up.  While they shared a camp, Leroy had talked
non-stop about his daughter, Josephine, and how much he owed her for not being
a good pa.  He’d even told Grey they lived several miles outside of Dry
Gulch, so Grey scrapped his plans of tracking Leroy north and headed to Dry
Gulch to wait for him to show up.  If Leroy still had the nuggets, Grey
would get them back, forcefully, if need be.  He was younger, bigger and
stronger than that scrawny desert rat. If Leroy had stashed the nuggets
somewhere up north, which Grey suspected was the case, then he’d beat the
information out of him. Desperate times called for desperate measures. 

Sure enough, Hart
had moseyed into Dry Gulch over a week later.  However, it was just Grey’s
bad luck to learn that the man had been arrested for stealing a horse and
tossed in jail before he could confront him.  The next day, it was all
over town that Leroy and another man were to be hanged as horse thieves. 

Grey stared into
the fire and thought back to two days ago.  Neither the marshal nor his
deputy had allowed him into the jail to see Leroy, so he’d decided to wait
around town, hoping Leroy’s daughter would show up for the hanging.  There
wasn’t much else he could do, anyway.  For once, luck had been with him,
and his strategy paid off.  He would have known her anywhere from the way
Leroy had described his pretty, half-breed daughter and her big gray mule.

When Grey watched
her come and go from the jailhouse the morning of the hanging, he hoped and
prayed Leroy had told her about the gold.  After all, riches wouldn’t do
the man any good in hell, and he’d mentioned more than once how he’d never done
right by the girl.  It only made sense he’d want to make up for the grief
he’d caused her whole life.  What better way than to bestow five thousand
dollars worth of gold on her? 

Grey was sure
Leroy had made a map of some kind, because of that same miner who’d told him
Leroy had struck out north.  When questioned about Leroy’s behavior
earlier in the day, the miner had admitted watching him draw some scribbles on
a piece of parchment. Leroy had apparently told the miner it was a card for his
daughter, but Grey knew better. 

He’d observed the
girl in town, and had even followed her out to the farm that evening after the
hanging.  He’d figured he could bully her into giving him the map, if he
had to.  In town, he might have gotten himself arrested, but get her alone
on her farm, and he was sure she’d hand over the map with no questions
asked.  The problem was, someone had beaten him to her. 

From behind some
downed pinon trees, he’d watched as her cabin went up in flames.  When her
mule came flying out of the barn and he saw Josie was headed toward the forest,
he’d kicked Lightning into a gallop and took a shortcut to get there first.

Josie lifted her
head for a moment and their gazes connected.  As Grey stared into those
bright blue eyes, he felt his heartstrings being tugged. He could see she was
holding back tears.  It wasn’t his intent to make her cry. 
Hell!  Seeing a woman cry was worse than eating a raw habanero
pepper.   Both stuck in his craw.

He shook his
head.  It wasn’t the girl’s fault her pa had been such a rascal. Leroy had
left her all alone in the world; that much was clear. Grey tore his gaze from
her and stared into the flames, trying to put himself in Leroy’s shoes for a
minute. The old man probably had the best intentions, which was to leave her
the nuggets and give her a second chance at life. A young woman without a man
to provide and care for her didn’t fare well in the wild and dangerous
west.  Particularly when that woman was a half-breed.  Still, that
didn’t give Leroy the right to steal another man’s loot—or
her
the right
to keep it.

 “Look, Miss Hart,”
he started, wanting to get this settled.

“My name’s
Josie.”  Her big, round, doe eyes peered up at him.

Grey’s heart
jumped inside his chest. The girl’s mouth was shaped like a little pink heart,
and her lashes were long and thick. Her hair was as black as a raven’s
feather.  The long braid she wore down her back was loose, and stray
tendrils fell around her bronze face.  Those blue eyes were about as
pretty as the ocean he’d read about in school.  She looked young and
innocent, and would even be kind of attractive if she wiped that scowl off her
face. 

 “Look,” he
repeated, determined not to get distracted by her looks.  “I apologize for
calling your pa names.  And I also apologize for calling you a half-breed
a while ago.”

She sniffled and
wiped her nose with her shirtsleeve.  “It’s alright,” she said,
softly.  “You just spoke the truth.  A person should never feel bad
about being honest.”  She pulled the map from her back pocket.  “I
guess this really is yours.”  She stood, walked around the fire, and
handed the parchment to him. Then she went back to her spot, sat down, and
continued to study him behind damp eyelashes.

Puzzled, Grey
accepted the offering. “Why are you doing this?  I’ve only known you a
short while, but I can tell you’re not the type of gal to give in to something
so easily.  Frankly, I’m surprised you’re not putting up a better
fight.”  He opened his black coat and slid the paper into an interior
pocket.

She shrugged. 
“I don’t blame you for coming after me.  I can’t keep what’s not
rightfully mine.  My pa
was
a liar and a cheat. Everyone in Dry
Gulch, and the entire New Mexico territory, knew that.  I suppose there
would be no reason for you to tell an untruth.  That map must be
yours.  Can I have my gun back now?”  She fluttered her lashes and
held out her flattened palm.

Grey noticed her weepy
eyes had dried up quick.  She almost had him there. He squinted. 
“Not so fast, little lady.  You don’t think I’m that dumb do you? 
You just might be getting ready to pull a trick on me.”

Josie stuck her
tongue out, and then scooped up a handful of dirt from the ground and threw it
across the fire.  She aimed for his face, and would have hit it, too, if
he hadn’t have had good reactions and ducked. 

“That gun’s mine,”
she hissed.  “I need it for protection. Marshal Kendall’s posse is coming
back for me.  They won’t know I gave the map to you. But when they find
out, they’ll still kill me.”  Her blue eyes burned with fury.

 “You’re a regular
little hellcat, aren’t you?”  Grey lifted the black Stetson off his head
and tipped it.  Some of the dirt she’d thrown sprinkled to the ground.
After he placed the hat back on his head, he locked eyes with her.  He’d
been burned by feminine wiles before, and this girl had the blood of Leroy Hart
running through her.  He couldn’t trust her as far as he could throw her.

He’d read a lot of stories
when he was in school growing up.  Some of them were about people and
animals living in far-off places like Africa and Australia.  He remembered
learning about the sneaky crocodiles. The fact that they cried big tears didn’t
make them any less dangerous.   Maybe this Josie Hart was like one of
those crocs.  If he didn’t watch out, she might bite him in half and
gobble him up whole. 

“I believe I’ll
keep your gun a bit longer,” Grey answered with a smug grin.  He patted
the derringer, snug against his hip.

Her pretty little
mouth curled into a snarl.  “You’re going to leave me alone, unable to protect
myself?  If those men murder me, my blood will be on your hands, I hope
you know.”  Her chin jutted toward him, and her nose wrinkled in disgust.

Grey stood up and
moseyed to the mouth of the cave again.  Outside, his horse snickered. He
pulled a striped wool blanket from his saddlebags and sauntered back to the
fire with it draped over his arm.  “Stop the dramatics, Miss Hart,” he
said.  “Don’t worry your pretty little head.  I have no intention of
leaving you unprotected tonight.  I’ll be right here beside you, in case
the posse returns.  But you and I both know they won’t be back tonight. I
heard Marshal Kendall say they were returning to Dry Gulch for fresh
horses.  They’ll come for you tomorrow.”

Josie gasped and
clenched her teeth tight.

“That’s right,” he
chuckled. “When you were hiding in the thicket, I was so close, I could hear
your heart beating.  And you were correct when you guessed I’d set that
trap to ambush you.  I didn’t count on that big mule of yours to jump as
high as the moon though.  And I sure didn’t count on that posse following
you.  But it all turned out for the best, wouldn’t you agree?”  He
crouched to the ground and snuggled against the cave wall, making himself
comfortable.

Her mouth opened
and closed like a goldfish’s.  It was obvious she was finally at a loss
for words.

Grey motioned for
her to join him. “You’d better get all the sleep you can, Miss Hart. 
You’ll need your wits about you when you try to outrun that gang early in the
morning.”

“What are you
doing?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Do you think you’re
staying in
here
tonight?  In
my
hideout?”

He wrapped the blanket
around his shoulders.  “Why, sure.  It’s late, and I’m dead
tired.  My horse is already asleep.  Where else would I go at this
hour?  Besides, I don’t see your name painted on the wall.”  He
glanced around, as if to make a point.

“Your tiredness is
not my problem,” she snapped.  “But I know one thing.  You have a
black soul to match your black duds.  You don’t even
care
if I get
murdered. I won’t share my fire with you.”  She turned away from him and
held her shaking hands over the flames.

“Your
fire?”   He chortled.  “I restarted that fire when you
carelessly let it go out.  That makes it mine to enjoy while I
sleep.  However, I just happen to be in a charitable mood now, Miss
Hart.”  He touched his coat where the map was nestled inside and grinned
again.   “So I’ll share
my
fire with
you
.” 

“Would you stop
calling me Miss Hart?” she said, obviously annoyed. “My name is Josie, I told
you.”  She scooted against the cave wall and folded herself into a ball
with her hands around her knees.  When she turned her back to him, she
finished up with a weak threat. “If you call me Miss Hart one more time, I’ll
stomp on your hat.”   Then she stuck her shirt pillow behind her head
and lay against it.

When Grey laughed
again, he saw her look over her shoulder and roll her eyes. “Just make sure my
head’s not in it when you do your stomping,” he replied.  “Sleep tight,
and don’t let the bedbugs bite.”  He pulled the endangered hat down over
his eyes, stretched out his long legs, and closed his eyes.

“Bedbugs, my
foot,” she grumbled.

Chapter Six

The next morning, Grey
woke before the sun.  He rubbed an ache out of his neck.  He was used
to sleeping out of doors and on the hard ground, but that didn’t mean his body
liked it any.  Give him a soft mattress and fluffy pillow any day of the
week.  Unfortunately, it had been some time since he’d been able to
appreciate those comforts.  But he’d have them again, very soon, once the
nuggets were safely in his hands.

He glanced over, expecting
to see the sourpuss girl staring him down, but she was gone, as was her skirt
and petticoats, which he’d noticed had been spread out on a rock the night
before. “Guess she took my advice and struck out early.  Think I’ll do the
same.”   He rose to his feet, stretched, and then kicked dirt into
the fire ring where a few glowing embers remained.

Sauntering to his
horse, he scratched the gelding’s neck and then craned his own neck
around.  There was no sign of Josie or her tall mule.  “I guess she
really
was
afraid of getting murdered,” he chuckled to Lightning.

He reached into
the leather pouch he kept tied to the back of his saddle and pulled out a
handful of grain. The white horse was antsy for breakfast, and sucked the grain
out of Grey’s palm then nudged his nose against his shoulder, demanding more.

“I’m hungry, too,
Lightning, but we’ve got to move out.  I have a feeling the marshal and
his gang is on their way. They’ll not hesitate to shoot me if they discover I
have the map now.  We’ll stop once we get down the trail a bit, and you
can eat a bigger breakfast.” 

He instinctively
tapped the cold, hard pistol at his right hip with his fingers. His left hand
brushed over the other hip, expecting to feel the derringer tucked in the
waistband of his pants.  His shoulders went stiff.  Where was the
derringer? 

“What the…?” Hastily
unbuttoning his coat, he thrust his hand into the inside pocket.  The
parchment was gone, too. 

Grinding his
teeth, he rhetorically asked Lightning, “How on God’s green earth did she pull
that off?”  Mounting the great white horse with a grunt, Grey reined the
animal quickly onto the path and trotted out of the forest, seething with every
bounce.

“I see Josie Hart
really does have her pa’s blood running through her veins. When I catch up to
her, she’ll be sorry.  The little crocodile!

* * * *

Josie rode like
the devil was on her heels until she’d cleared the trees and started the long
stretch over the desert. After pushing Traveler hard for a few miles, she was
still afraid to let up. He loped along with his big ears pinned back. 
Now, not only would Marshall Kendall and his gang be after her, Grey Paladin
would be on her tail like a fly on honey.