Noble Savage

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Noble SavageNoble Savage Book IV in theBehind the Ranges Series By Judith B. Glad Published by Awe-Struck E-Books Copyright ©2001 ISBN: 1-58749-073-0 Electronic rights reserved by Awe-Struck E-Books, all other rights reserved by author. The reproduction or other use of any part of this publication without the prior written consent of the rights holder is an infringement of the copyright law. Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges - Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go. Rudyard Kipling:The Explorer This one is for the Clan, a wonderful, indescribable collection of relatives-by-choice, friends-through-thick-and-thin, and support-group-beyondbelief. It's about time I thanked you for helping me make it this far. Drink deeply. I love you all. Especially Neil. The only trace of Bear River City, Wyoming, today is an interpretive sign marking its location. In its brief life it was perhaps the wildest of all the Hells-on- Wheels along the Union Pacific route and its sudden death on 19 November 1868 was as violent as its brief life--and perhaps even more dramatic than this books tells. I've used real places in this story, and a few real people are mentioned, but otherwise, all people and events are purely the products of my imagination. ACKNOWLEDGEMENT Andrew J. Russell documented the building of the first transcontinental railroad with unforgettable images. His photographs were published and republished over the years since East met West at Promontory Summit in 1869, but the man himself was all but forgotten. In 1969 many of his original negatives were rediscovered, after having been lost for almost a hundred years, and he was identified as the photographer. Westward to Promontory(Crown Publishers, Inc., in cooperation with the Oakland Museum and Union Pacific Corporation, 1986) contains many of his photographs, opening a window to a chapter of the past that had long fascinated me. Standing at the historical monument commemorating the long-gone town, I had the feeling

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html that the ghosts of people in Russell's photo were still walking the rutted street of Bear River City between shadowy log cabins and board-and- batten shanties. CHAPTER ONE Luke stared at a pool of blood spreading in the dusty street. The acrid bite of hot gunpowder burned in his nostrils. "Why?" he said hoarsely. "Why did you make me do it?" The eyes that stared back into his were blank, the face slack. Japhet Breedlove would never answer his question. A hard grip on his arm caused an automatic reaction, one learned where to be careless was to die. His Colt's barrel wasn't six inches from the Marshall's belt buckle before the star pinned to the man's vest registered. Swallowing hard, Luke forced his hand down, loosened his fingers. The Colt dropped in the dirt. "I saw it," the Marshall said, his hard face showing no pity and no blame. "You was forced into the fight, but that don't make no difference. The law says no gunfights in this here town and my job's enforcin' it." His voice caught somewhere in his tight chest, Luke could only nod. "I'll let you keep your gun, seein' as how you might need it where you're goin'." The Marshall gestured. "Pick it up." The body that bent over didn't feel like his, nor did the hand that grasped the gun. "I...uh..." The dryness in his throat caught at the words and held them. "What'd you mean? Where I'm goin'?" "Don't make no difference to me, just as long as it's somewheres else. If I see you in town after sundown, I'll have to arrest you. Fightin' in the street's worth sixty days at hard labor, and bein' a public nuisance ought to get you another thirty." Luke looked again at the man he'd killed. A green fly crawled across Japhet's sunken cheek. On his belly, the blood, no longer bright red and glistening, was already congealing in the afternoon sun. "God!" Luke said, not sure whether the word was blessing or curse. He knelt and closed the sightless, accusing eyes. *** "More roses, ma'am. And pink ones this time!" Katie Lachlan took the bouquet and looked for a card. There was none. It was the twelfth bouquet she'd received in as many days--except Sunday-and none of them had a clue to the sender. "Throw them away!" At first she'd been thrilled. A secret admirer. How romantic! Her sister had agreed, when the first flowers arrived, a lovely posy of dainty white roses in a silver filigree holder. Ellen had hugged Katie. "Oh, honey, a mystery suitor. How exciting! Maybe he'll come to our box at the opera tonight," But he was still a mystery, and the flowers were no longer romantic. If the men of Boston were as proper as she'd been told, then why was one of them sending her roses? Once was romantic. Twice was perhaps a bit daring. Thirteen bouquets was rude. "Throw them away," she repeated handing the flowers back to the maid. "I

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html don't want them." Walking to the window, Katie looked out into the small garden behind her sister's house. The Michelmas daisies were blooming profusely, but an early frost had touched some of the other flowers. Although it was only September, winter was giving its warning. "Katie? Oh, there you are. Colleen said you told her to throw your flowers away?" Not turning, Katie said, "Yes." She leaned her face against the cool glass. "I have a bad feeling about them, Ellen. I don't know why." Her sister came to her and put an arm about her waist. "You're just feeling gloomy because the days are getting shorter. You never did like to see summer end." Katie forced herself to smile. "Of course. That must be it." She linked arms with Ellen and guided her sister to the sofa. "If I weren't so determined to see what you're hiding in here--" patting Ellen's swollen belly--"I'd be back home already." "And I'd be tempted to go with you, if I could convince Charles to let me." Ellen shivered. "I swear, Boston winters are twice as cold as Idaho's. And longer, too." "And dirtier." Katie leaned back and stretched her legs out before her, a position that would have scandalized her classmates at Seminary. "I never saw gray snow until I came East. Did you?" "Never. But I came to talk to you about tonight. Charles just sent a note. Something has come up and he can't escort you to the theatre." "To tell the truth, Ellen, I'm ready for a quiet evening at home. I've never gadded so much in my life." For a moment she thought of the long evenings in the cabin when she was a child. Ma would read aloud while Pa carved. Or sometimes he'd play checkers with one of the older children. How thrilled she'd always been when it was her turn. She never had figured out whether he let her win or not, but when she did, she'd worked hard for it. Ellen sighed. "I wish you weren't going home. It seems as if you just got here." "Just got here? Ellen, I've been East for nearly three years. That's almost forever!" "And I've been here six. It doesn't seem possible, does it?" They fell into reminiscences of home, and Katie forgot her unknown--and unwelcome--suitor. Until the next bouquet arrived on Monday. *** From Manassas to the Siege of Mobile, Luke Savage had fought as he must, not knowing the faces or the names of the men he fired upon--only that they were the enemy. After the War, he came home to a ragtag Kansas farm and three graves. He built a fence around the plot where his only family rested, then sold the farm and livestock to a neighbor. When a herd of longhorns passed nearby, he followed like a cocklebur on the tail of a cow. In the next three years, he ate a lot of dust, and learned many things. That there were harder ways to earn coffee and beans than in the Army. That no matter how much a man tried to forget the broken, bloodied bodies of friend and foe,

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html some nightmares came back again and again. And that the railheads were as dangerous as the battlefields, for a man took his life in his hands, just walking down the street. As he had today. Now he couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, the look on Japhet Breedlove's face as the bullet struck his chest haunted him. All around him his fellow passengers slept, curled or slumped in their seats. Some snored, some shifted restlessly, as if trying to find a comfortable position. Down at the end of the car, a baby cried fretfully, and its mother's soothing voice was a low, soprano murmur, barely audible over the clackety-clack of the wheels. The train stopped once more. A lantern up toward the engine showed the supports of a water tank. Luke wondered where they were. Somewhere between Topeka and Kansas City was all he knew. His ticket was for Kansas City. After that maybe he'd go wherever the next freight was headed. It wouldn't be the first time he'd ridden the rods. The train lurched once, twice, before setting out again. It all but threw Luke from his seat. Giving up any hope of sleep, he picked up his bedroll and saddlebags and made his way to the end of the car, stepping over feet and legs and even one oblivious sleeper as he reeled down the narrow aisle. The vestibule was noisy, but it was a simple, mechanical noise. There was no one to see him, no one to pay attention to what he did. Luke opened a saddlebag and removed the gun belt he'd stowed before boarding the train. Its leather was supple, well oiled. The brass buckle was shiny with wear, catching light from the gibbous moon he could see through the open vestibule window. The revolver's grip felt familiar to his hand, a natural fit. This gun, an Army Colt .44, was an old friend. He'd carried it through the last year of the War, worn it night and day for the three years since. His hip felt curiously light, almost undressed without it. He turned the gun in his hand, looked down the wide aperture of its barrel. Tentatively he touched the front sight to his upper lip, rubbing it back and forth. He'd heard that the most certain way to blow out your brains was to stick the barrel as far into your mouth as it would go. A chill went through him. Was this how Japhet Breedlove had felt, looking down the barrel of this gun? Cold? Scared? Aware that the future could end here and now? Luke lowered the revolver, spun the cylinder. The steel was cold in his hand. As cold as his soul, when he'd looked into Japhet's dying face. The Colt caught the moon's light as he turned it before his face. A beautiful gun. A tool that did exactly what a man needed, and did it well. His hand tightened on the grip as once more he tilted the Colt, touched the barrel to his lips. One bullet. That's all it would take. And he'd never again be haunted by Japhet Breedlove's ghost. One bullet, one man.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "No, damn it!" He pulled the barrel key, detached the barrel. For a moment he held it in his hand, weighing it. Weighing his regrets. With a deep breath, Luke rejected guilt, but accepted responsibility. "He'd have killed me! Hewanted to kill me!" He threw the long steel barrel into the night. The cylinder slid easily free of the grip frame. Light caught on the faceted side of it, showing the six little compartments of death--cold, gray, leaded death. He threw it as hard as he could, watched it disappear into the formless night. The grip-frame felt curiously light in his hand, without the weight of heavy steel and lead that he was used to. Luke looked at it in the dim light from the railcars he stood between. It appeared harmless. Just an odd-shaped piece of steel, knurled to set easily in a man's hand, cast to accept cylinder and barrel, machined to function perfectly. Designed to kill. He held the grip-frame out the vestibule window. The train was moving fast now, swaying as it rounded a low hill. As Luke relaxed his hand, he smiled. A body would have a hell of a time finding all the pieces. Again he ran his hand over the finely tooled gun belt. He'd paid a pretty penny for it, back when such things mattered. Now he couldn't wait to be shut of its deadly cargo. With no regret, he detached a small leather bag from it and emptied its contents into his hand. His fist clenched around the cartridges, then opened. One by one, he let them drop from the window. The rhythm of the train changed. Looking out, Luke saw the lights of a town ahead. Folding the gun belt carefully, he replaced it in a saddlebag. Empty, it was just a piece of finely tooled leather. It should bring him a fair price in Kansas City. Luke's soul was less cold as he made his way back to his seat. Now he would sleep. *** My dear Miss Lachlan, Your beauty has enthralled me. Your manners and behavior have charmed me. For many weeks I have observed you. I have made my decision. My family is an old one, and well respected in Boston society. For these reasons, I have been slow to choose a wife. The woman I marry must be capable of moving in the best circles, her gentility must be unquestioned, and her beauty unparalleled. You will be honored, I know, to learn that you are my choice. I will give myself the pleasure of calling for you tomorrow, Thursday, at two in the afternoon, so that I may introduce you to my parents. You may, if you wish, invite your brother-in-law to accompany us, in loco parentis, as it were. It would be inappropriate for your sister to appear in company at this time, of course. I remain, Miss Lachlan, your devoted admirer, Hamilton Steens Whitney III Katie read the preposterous letter a second time. Part of her wanted to laugh, but another part, the cautious, suspicious part, wanted to take it to the

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html police. Oh, yes. And what would she tell them? That this letter, following a month of anonymous daily bouquets, made her uneasy in an inexplicable way. They would think her mad. She folded the creamy vellum and carefully returned it to the envelope. A few deep breaths and the hollow feeling in her middle went away. She left her room and went down the hall. "Ellen?" She tapped at her sister's door. "Ellen, are you awake?" Her sister was napping daily. She had laughingly apologized, saying she might as well get all the sleep she could now, because she wouldn't get much after The Heir was born. "Come in, Katie. I'm just being lazy." Ellen scooted herself up in the bed, moving awkwardly. In the past week her belly had enlarged enormously. Her back hurt all the time, she'd told Katie, and she couldn't breathe if she sat upright. "I got a letter this morning--" Ellen reached out. "From Ma?" Katie shook her head. "It's from...here, you read it." She held out the envelope. Extracting the note, Ellen opened it. Almost immediately she gasped, "Who--" She looked at the signature. "Hamilton Whitney. Where did you meet him?" "I don't know," Katie said, shaking her head. "I don't think I've ever heard of him, so how could I have met him?" "You must have," Ellen said, but with little force. Her eyes were skimming over the note. "Oh, my! How strange!" "Yes, isn't it? I think he's the one who sent the flowers, Ellen." "But Hamilton Whitney! Katie, don't you know who this is?" "An extremely conceited young man, I think." "As well he should be. The Whitneys have been here forever. Or at least since the Mayflower. If it weren't that people would think they had Indian blood, they'd probably claim to have gotten here first. "And they're enormously rich! Why when Hortense Whitney made her debut, they had great big ice swans on all the tables. In July! Imagine!" "So why is he writing me a letter like this?" Katie twitched the vellum from her sister's hand and read, "'You will be honored, I know, to learn that you are my choice.'His choice! As if I haven't any say in the matter." She jumped to her feet and stalked around the room, narrowly missing the small table on which stood a delicate porcelain figurine. "And saying you shouldn't appear in public. What nerve!" She spun around and glowered at Ellen. "Well, I'm not even going to answer this stupid letter. I don't want him to think I even care that much." "Oh, Katie, maybe you should--" "No! Let him think I didn't get it, or thought it was a joke, or...or something. With any luck he'll decide I'm not worthy of him." "Maybe you should talk to Charles. He knows the Whitneys," Ellen said. "He'll know what to do." "I'll talk to him, but only because he's a man." She made a face as she

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html crumpled the envelope in her hand. "Something tells me this self-important son of a knock-kneed turkey wouldn't pay attention to anything a woman had to say." "Katie--" "Don't worry, I won't ask Charles to do anything dreadful. Just write a letter." She struck a pose in the doorway, nose in the air, mouth pursed as if she'd been sucking limes. How about, 'Miss Lachlan does not welcome your attentions. I suggest that you look elsewhere for the future Mrs. Full-of-Yourself Whitney, the Umpteenth.' "She put her hand on the doorknob, turned and grinned. "Go back to your nap, Ellen. You want to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when Charles comes home, don't you?" Ellen's answering smile turned into a grimace. After a moment, she said, "I'm not sure I can be. I seem to be about to have this baby." "Ellen!" Katie shrieked. "Why didn't you tell me?" She ran from the room, calling to the housekeeper and to the nurse already installed down the hall. Behind her, she heard Ellen's voice, a little peevish. "I just did." *** Shaking his head, Luke said, "Mick, I just don't want to stay in Chicago. There's land out West. I could make a fresh start."And maybe leave the nightmares behind. He was already regretting the impulse to look up his old comrade. Just seeing Mick Conner reminded him of battles they had fought together. Battles he'd just as soon forget. "You can do that right here. Why man, there's a real future with the Pinkertons. We're growing every day." "Sorry, Mick, but detective work's not for me. I don't want to ever again get into a fix where I have to rely on a gun." He drained his glass, set it on the table. "I'll be heading West in a week or so, soon as I can get some gear together. When I get to a stopping place, I'll send you a wire." "Wait!" Mick's hand on his arm prevented him from rising. "There's a job-- " "I'm not lookin' for a job," Luke repeated. "This wouldn't be working for the Pinkertons. We're doin' it as a favor to some bigwig back East. A young woman's traveling alone, needs a guard, and we're shorthanded. These bank robberies, well, they're keeping our people busy as a weasel in a henhouse. Could you--" This time Luke managed to stand before Mick prevented it. "I'm no bodyguard, particularly for a young woman." He was the last man on earth should be taking responsibility for a female--especially a lady. "Three hundred dollars," Mick said. "Half up front, half when you get her safe to Ogden." That stopped Luke. He had about seventy dollars left from his wages, but no horse, no gear, and he still had to buy a train ticket. Three hundred dollars could give him a good start. "Where's Ogden?" "Hell, I don't know. Somewhere out West. All I know is the railroad hasn't got there yet. You'd go the last ways on a stage." If the railroad wasn't there yet, there'd be plenty of empty land for a man wanting to make himself a new home. "I'll do it," he said, before he could think about what a mistake he might be making. "When?" "Wednesday. She's comin' from Boston." Rising, he said, "Let's go back to the office. I've got all the information there."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html *** Ellen frowned up at Katie. "I wish you weren't going!" She stroked a finger across the baby cheek at her breast. "Not with winter coming on." "You knew I'd leave as soon as you were back on your feet. You've got nurses and maids and friends and all of Charles' family. You don't need me." "That's according to how you define 'need.' I'll miss you something awful, Katie-girl. You're the only family I've got for two thousand miles." Katie smiled. "I can always tell when you start thinking of me as your baby sister. You call me 'Katie-girl.'" She knelt beside her sister and reached to touch the baby's tiny hand, lying delicately on the embroidered pink coverlet. "You've got family--right there in your arms. And Charles too, of course." "I know. I guess I'm just clutching at straws. Maybe one of them will convince you to stay through winter." "I got another letter today." The smile on Ellen's face vanished. "Oh, no! And I thought--" "Yes," Katie said, fighting to contain her anger. "So did I, when there were no flowers and no letters for a week. But this one--" She took the letter from her pocket and waved it. "Ellen, it's just outrageous!" Ellen took the envelope from her. It was, as before, heavy, creamy vellum, addressed in an elegant hand. Unfolding the letter, she read its message aloud. My dear Miss Lachlan; I saw you in the park yesterday, looking more lovely than ever. Your hair shone in the sunlight. Your cheeks bore the blush of autumn's cool touch. I commend you for your shyness, your reserve. It is essential that a young woman of your station be modest and unassuming. Yet I wonder if you do not carry it too far. For I have stated my intentions and still you hesitate. My parents have initiated inquiries into your antecedents and await results. I am certain you will be acceptable to them. In anticipation, I wish you to accept my ring, a pledge of my intentions. I will do myself the honor of waiting on you Wednesday next at three o'clock in the afternoon. At that time I will formalize my offer. Please do not trouble yourself to reply, as I will let nothing hinder me. As ever, your devoted admirer, Hamilton Steens Whitney III Ellen's eyes were wide as she raised them to look at Katie. "But Charles told him --" "I know. I listened at the door." Accepting the letter back, Katie folded it carefully. She had kept all the notes he'd written her, except the first. Something told her she should not destroy them, although the mere fact of keeping them made her angry all over again. She stared out the window, unseeing. "I think," she said slowly, "that it's a very good thing my train leaves tomorrow." CHAPTER TWO "I really wish you'd take Colleen," Ellen said. Katie hugged her sister and laughed. "And who would be taking care of whom? A pretty little Irish maid like her! I'd need a broom to sweep away the men." "Well, it just isn't done, for a lady to travel alone." "I seem to remember someone threatening to hitch a ride on a freight wagon until

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Pa gave in and brought you back East." She dipped in an elaborate curtsey. "Lawks, Miz Forsythe, a body'd never believe you was raised in a log cabin, you bein' so proper and all!" Ellen turned bright pink. "Hush! It's not that I'm so proper. I'm just worried about you. There are all sorts of people riding the trains, especially once you get past Chicago." "Oh, Ellen, listen to you! Whose family has more 'all sorts' than ours?" Counting on her fingers, she said, "Chinese and mountain men and gold seekers and ex-slaves, maybe even an Indian or two. I'd sure like to see Mr. Upper-crust Whitney's parents when they get their report on the Lachlans." Ellen grinned and shook her head. "I know. I sounded like a real prig, didn't I?" She tucked a rolled-up petticoat into a corner of Katie's satchel. "There! I think that's everything you'll need on the train. But I still wish you weren't going away." "I'm not like you, Ellen. I'm not suited to the fancy life. All this--" She spun, arms out, in a wide gesture that took in the comforts of a Beacon Hill house. "I feel like a pig in the parlor, sometimes." "I know, but..." "But you're a long way from home, and Charles won't even talk about your going back for a visit until the railroad's built." Katie hugged Ellen once more. "It's been wonderful, going to school out here in the East. The opera. The theatre. And oh! The museums!" She looked out the window, seeing trimmed trees and the grand houses across the busy street. "But I miss the mountains, Ellen. I miss being able to see for miles. Not hearing another human voice for days at a time." Colleen tapped on the door before opening it and entering. "The cab's here, Miss. I'll have Kirby take your bags down." "There's just the one, Colleen." Ellen gathered Katie into her arms. "I still wish you were taking Colleen. Or one of the other maids. After Chicago, you'll be all on your own." Katie gave her sister one last squeeze. "Don't worry about me, Ellen. I can take care of myself. I always have." *** Luke laid his rifle and his spare set of clothes carefully on his blanket and rolled everything inside the tarp that had served him as ground sheet and tent for so long. A leather thong tied it into a neat roll, with enough left over to make a handle he could slip his arm into. Everything else was stowed in the saddlebags, never mind he had no horse to sling them across. God! He'd be glad to get out of Chicago. Too many people. Too much smoke and dirt. The Union Pacific had laid rails almost to Utah. His ticket was for Laramie. Maybe a bit beyond. The agent didn't know how far they were carrying passengers this week. The letter from Charles Forsythe of Boston had said he was to go as far on the train as Miss Kathryn Lachlan did, then accompany her on the stage to

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Ogden. At least Luke now knew where Ogden was. What he didn't know was why Miss Lachlan wasn't supposed to know he was guarding her. Or what from. He walked to the depot of the Northwestern Railroad, knowing that in a few hours he'd be wishing he could stretch his legs. A crowd filled the high-ceilinged waiting room, most of them dressed in dark, sturdy clothing. He wondered where they were all going. At one end of the cavernous room, beyond a velvet rope on which swung a fancy sign, another sort of crowd was gathered. There weren't many, twenty or so, all dressed to the nines. Luke maneuvered around so he could read the sign. "First Class Only." He'd stayed in a first class hotel once, during the War, when he'd been sent to Washington with secret dispatches. The fellow who'd carried his bag to his room had worn more gold braid than General Grant himself. The room had been as ornate as any in the fancy whorehouse he'd visited in St. Louis. A conductor appeared and led the swells out a side door. Luke sauntered along behind them. He got as far as the door, before a porter pulled it shut in his face. "Sorry, suh," the porter said. "You gots to have a first class ticket to go through here." Luke showed his ticket. "But I don't want to get on until just before the train pulls out." The porter's eyebrows rose, but all he said was, "Whatever you say, suh. Your seat's the end one on this side of the car." The prosperous looking men and their well-fed women stood in a cluster on the platform. After a few moments they began, one by one, to board the next-tolast railcar. Ladies weren't the same shape as they'd been before the War. Their hoops were flatter at the sides and humped up more in the back. These women wore bonnets trimmed with flowers and feathers to beat the band. Their fur cloaks or fancied-up velvet coats covered hooped skirts that dragged the ground in back, caught on the wind-blown papers and debris littering the platform. Maybe that's why the slim young woman stood out in the crowd. Her coat was dark red, fur-trimmed wool, snugged around her slender body to show a slim waist with curves above and below--curves lush enough to make a man conjecture. Her skirt was hooped, but not wide, and it swung enough above the ground so that he could see she wore sturdy black boots. Coal black hair was piled up on her head, a mass of curls that made his hands itch to bury themselves in silken loops. She turned her head. He saw that her chin was pointed and strong, her nose straight, and her eyes wide and dark under arched brows. For a moment it was as if she looked straight into his eyes. Luke's pulse leaped. Suddenly he hungered for rich and sweet, and knew she was. Then she looked away. In a moment she was aboard the railcar and gone from

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html his sight. Part of him wanted to hightail it out of there. Mick hadn't warned him just how dangerous this job could be. The rest of him wondered if his luck had changed all of a sudden. Dropping his saddlebags and bedroll, Luke hunkered down against the wall. The train was due to pull out about three, but he wouldn't bet the farm on its being on time. Not if all these folks were planning on boarding it. Idly he wondered what it would be like, sleeping in a real bed while you traveled thirty or forty miles an hour. He'd find out tonight. "That's some fancy railcar, now ain't it?" Luke turned to look at the man who'd spoken. Tall and gaunt, he was a man who'd once been strong, with wide shoulders and big hands. Now illness sat on him like a shroud, for all his eyes still burned with life. "It's one of those new bedroom cars," Luke said. "I reckon it won't look so bright and shiny once it's been on the rails for a while." The old man shook his head in wonderment. "What'll folks think of next?" They watched in silence as the last of the passengers boarded the bedroom car. After a few minutes, the coach passengers were allowed onto the platform. The old man stooped to pick up a carpetbag, but as he lifted it, his body convulsed in a paroxysm of deep, wheezing coughs. "Let me take that," Luke said, lifting the bag from his hand. He waited until the man's coughs had subsided, then saw him safely to his railcar. As he handed the carpetbag to the porter, he said, "I'll be along later in case you want company at supper. I never did like eatin' alone." A mocking grin showed Luke his tact had been appreciated. "I'd be obliged, lad," the old man said, as he climbed aboard. *** Katie settled herself into her seat in the railcar, her movements jerky, uncoordinated. Her hands shook, her stomach roiled. How dared he! A cluster of delicate pink rosebuds in a silver holder had arrived just as she was leaving her hotel. She'd ripped open the accompanying envelope. My Dearest Miss Lachlan, I understand your maidenly shyness, your exquisite manners. As soon as it is convenient for me to do so, I shall follow you. If fortune smiles upon us, we will meet along the way and will complete our journey together. Until then carry these roses next your heart, where I long to be. With fondest regards, I remain Yours faithfully, Hamilton Steens Whitney, III She'd dropped the flowers on the lobby floor, surely shocking the desk clerk. "Destroy them!" Her voice had sounded thin and shrill, even to her own ears. All the way to the depot, she had told herself, over and over, that at least Hamilton Whitney wasn't in Chicago. He would follow her, he'd said. Howdared he! Still furious, Katie leaned forward, hands clenched in her lap, as if by her position she could move the train. Hurry!

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Yet there was no reason for her eagerness to get moving. Through the railcar's window all she could see was an empty platform and the brick side of the depot. Inside the building, standing so his cheek was pressed against the glass of one of the grimy windows, a man stared at her. He was dressed in plain, dark clothes, a leather vest, and a wide-brimmed hat. Not the elegant, well-tailored clothing men in Boston society wore. No, he was a laborer. A farmer, maybe, on his way to stake a land claim in Nebraska. Or a cowman. This man wouldn't write polite notes or send pink roses. A shiver of excitement shot up Katie's spine. He'd be more likely to sling a woman across his saddle and head for the hills. She watched as he slung saddlebags across his shoulder and tucked a bedroll under his arm. Then she lost him in the passengers surging toward the coaches. "All aboard!" Katie relaxed. She should be in Salt Lake City in a little more than a week. *** The conductor was as good as a watchdog, Luke decided, watching him patrol the sleeping car. So once his fellow passengers were tucked safely in their curtained bunks, Luke strolled through the train. In the third coach forward, he found a poker game. He hadn't yet seen a train without one. Tired of just sitting, he leaned over a seat back and watched for a while. Several of the players could have made their living at cards. None of them seemed to be cheating, but they knew what they were doing. After an hour or so, most of the coins, as well as a few crumpled bills, were piled before the old man Luke had helped earlier. He coughed as he contemplated his hand, a dry, hacking cough Luke had heard all too often in bivouac. After a few seconds, the old man raised ten dollars. Two players folded, the rest called. The old man laid down a straight, all diamonds. As the other players tossed in their losing hands, the winner looked up at Luke and grinned. "Set in?" he suggested. "Don't mind if I do," Luke said. He couldn't sleep, he was bored, and he had always been lucky at poker. He had maybe twenty-five dollars to spare. If he lost it, he'd quit. "Take my place," a fellow who'd just lost his last coins said. He got up and let Luke slide in opposite the old man.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Two hours later Luke stared with amazement at the pile of coins and bills before him. He'd never seen such cards. Never had such luck. One by one the other players had dropped out. Most passengers around them were sleeping, draped over their seats in contorted, uncomfortable poses. Some even lay in the aisles. Snores vied with the clacking of the rails, and the only lamp still burning was the one directly over the poker game. Luke's one remaining opponent--the consumptive old man who'd introduced himself simply as Smith--leaned back in the opposite seat, one booted foot resting against the makeshift table. He rubbed his stubbly chin and stared at Luke. Finally he said, "Tell you what. I'm cleaned out of cash money, purt' near. How about one last hand? Winner take all." Looking again at the riches piled before him, Luke hesitated. "I don't reckon..." Smith held up a hand. "I'm gettin' off in Council Bluffs. Goin' to live with my daughter. Her man don't like me and I don't like him. But I got nowheres else to go." He shrugged. "Don't guess it matters, seein' as how I likely won't live to see spring." Again he held up his hand as Luke started to speak. "I ain't lookin' for sympathy. Had me a good life, seen a fair piece of the world. Only reason I didn't stay in Indiana is the stock. I'm gettin' so I can't take care of them proper." Luke heard steel in his voice, sensed a will far stronger than the failing body housing it. "What if you win?" He thought it likely. He'd about used up a lifetime share of luck at cards. "Well, then I'll have enough to live my last winter in style, won't I? Down to New Orleans, maybe, or somewheres warm." He coughed, a long paroxysm that left him shaking. There were droplets of sweat on his brow, although this end of the railcar was scarcely warmer than the October night. When he pulled the handkerchief from his mouth, Luke saw it was tinged with bright red blood. "C'mon, lad!" Smith barked, his voice remarkably strong and commanding. "Where's your spirit? You've got as good a chance as I have of winnin' it all. Hell, I'll even throw this in." He worked a slim book from his coat pocket and tossed it on the table, knocking a pile of coins askew. Some jingled to the floor. "And the stock, too. Likely my daughter's man would sell 'em, soon as I'm dead." Knowing he shouldn't, Luke said, "What stock?" "Two fine jennies and a mean ol' Missouri mule." Smith reached inside his coat and extracted a scuffed leather notebook. With the stub of a pencil, he scribbled a moment, then tore out a slip of paper. "Here." He tossed it on the trunk. Luke picked it up. A bill of sale for Lafayette, a mule, and two jennets,

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Salome and Sheba by name. He turned the book over and read the title aloud. "The Mule: A Treatise on the Breeding, Training, and Uses to which He May Be Put." Looking at Smith across the table, he said, "I reckon there's at least five hundred dollars in the pot." Still Luke hesitated. He was tempted. He wanted that pot so bad he could taste it with a mouth dry as dust. He'd never wanted anything so bad in his whole life. But if he lost, he'd have nothing. "I wouldn't take a man's stake," the old man said, "nor his last dollar. Let's say we set aside fifty dollars for the loser. Walkin' around money." He waited. "Why?" Luke tried to read the old man's face. "You could sell your stock for enough to keep yourself right comfortable all winter. Why don't you?" Another coughing spasm shook Smith. He leaned back in his seat, gasping for breath. "Maybe I just like the looks of you, boy," he said, at last, his voice weak and whispery. "Your boots are wore like you've been ridin' hard and long. And you went out of your way to help me, no matter you never saw me before." His eyes closed and he sat still for a long time. "I'd rather give my stock away than to sell 'em to somebody I couldn't trust to be good to 'em." Sitting up straight, he said, "Well, boy? You playin' or not?" All trace of illness had disappeared, and Luke saw the shadow of the strong man he'd been. "I'll do it," Luke said, before common sense could get the better of him. He'd had nothing before, more than once. This time he had a job. "Cut for deal." Smith won the cut. Five times he shuffled the cards, then pushed them across. Luke tapped the top card. "I've been watching. You play fair." He swallowed as Smith picked up the cards. He swallowed again as the older man skillfully dealt them out. One. Two. As the last card dropped onto the four in front of him, Luke found his hands were shaking. He reached for them. For a moment, he found he didn't want to know what he'd been dealt. Smith's face revealed nothing as he looked at his hand. Luke forced himself to fan the cards he held. Three deuces. A king. A seven. That was all. His stomach felt hollow. "Pair of kings," Smith said, laying them down. Luke laid his singletons on the trunk. "Seven. King." Smith's mouth tightened. "Pair of fives." He laid them down. "And ace high." Not allowing himself to feel anything, Luke laid down his last cards. "Three deuces." "Well, then," Smith said, "that's took care of." He leaned back. "Looks like you got yourself some livestock, boy. You take care of 'em, y'hear." He handed Luke a baggage claim. "They're in the stock car. Gimme that bill of sale and I'll sign it." Without counting, Luke separated the pile of coins and bills, shoving the larger portion across the trunk. "Take it," he said. "A good mule is worth at least that. And it should keep you in New Orleans all winter, if you're careful." Smith looked at him a long time. "What's your name?"

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "Savage," Luke said. "Lucas Savage." "Well, Lucas Savage, you're a good man. I wish you luck." He scooped up the money and rose. With deliberate steps, he walked the length of the car and disappeared though the door at its opposite end. *** The train arrived at Council Bluffs in mid-afternoon. It pulled past the town and went on to the depot, set at the edge of the bluff, surrounded by uncountable double lines of iron rails. Katie counted a dozen locomotives puffing steam, waiting for a hand on the throttle. Empty freight cars awaited their cargoes, while glassy-eyed passenger coaches with colorful, gold-embellished trim queued up for the return trip to Chicago. Towering water tanks and a forest of telegraph poles cluttered the yards. All the rails came to this same destination, for it was the end of the Eastern routes. Across the Missouri River began the Union Pacific Railroad. Everyone was eager to disembark, tired of the long overnight journey from Chicago. But Katie hung back, unwilling to crowd forward with the rest. It wasn't as if she had another train to catch before tomorrow. The day coaches up ahead disgorged their hundreds. Eager emigrants scattered over the platform. Even inside the Pullman car Katie could hear the calls of conductors and porters, directing the land-hungry travelers to the wagons that would carry them to the ferries. She wondered how long it would be before a bridge carried the trains across the Missouri River. Years, she supposed. What would her mother think of these modern pioneers, riding a train to their frontier destination in a matter of days--instead of months of walking. The coach was all but empty when she picked up her carpetbag and followed the other passengers to the vestibule. Before descending to the platform she paused, her gaze skimming across the dwindling crowd. Charles had arranged for her transportation down to the ferry docks. All she had to do was find it. "Miz Lachlan?" Katie looked into the bright sunlight, her eyes dazzled. At first she could only see the man as a dark silhouette, and hesitated. Ordinarily she wouldn't be so cautious, but since they'd left Chicago, she'd had the feeling someone was watching her. Quickly she looked about, but, except for the waiting porter, no one else was nearby. "Your driver's a'waitin', ma'am. Right over there." The porter's gesture directed Katie's gaze to a ramshackle cabriolet hitched to a horse that should have been put out to pasture long since. "Soon's I get these folks took care of, I'll help you." "I hope it's not too far to the landing," she said, wondering how much Charles had paid for this unpretentious equipage.Don't be so uppity, Katie Lachlan. You'd better just hope the horse doesn't drop dead going down the hill. As she waited for the porter, she watched the approach of a black, closed hansom drawn by a pair of equally black horses. It stopped just opposite her. A tall man stepped from it. He was fair, with a sallow complexion and an equine shape to his head. His clothes were elegant, fine wool and linen, his gloves were pale tan leather. In one hand he carried an ebony cane and in the other a bouquet of pink roses. He strode across the platform, straight toward her.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "Miss Lachlan." She lifted her chin and looked down her nose at the tall man, a handy trick she'd learned at Seminary. He smiled, showing big, square teeth. "I don't believe I know you, sir," she said, using the frosty tone that had discouraged many a hopeful swain in Boston. She took a firmer hold of her carpetbag, half turned to speak to the porter behind her. "Come," the man said, his voice that of someone accustomed to being obeyed. "I have a carriage waiting." Katie looked for an instant into his eyes--ice blue and reflective as the finest mirror--and saw nothing. The hair on her nape twitched. Never in a hundred years would she go two yards with him. Her satchel sat with several others on the platform. "Will you bring my bag, please?" she said, indicating which it was to the porter. "Wait." The porter hesitated, and Katie became aware of just how much the stranger towered over her. "Miss Lachlan will be going with me." Katie saw gold drop from an elegantly gloved hand into the porter's. The man's eyes grew round at the coin's denomination. He gave a small nod. "Yassuh." "Wait a minute! I'm not going anywhere with this...this person." She took hold of the porter's sleeve and tugged. "Follow me!" A big hand encircled her wrist and tightened. The bones grated together painfully. "Let me go!" Her voice was drowned by the screech of brakes as a long line of freight cars was pushed onto the adjacent track by a chuffing switch-engine. She twisted and pulled, attempting to get away, but she might have well have been chained. The porter picked up her satchel. Katie forced herself to relax, to walk in the direction the stranger was pushing her. "Why are you doing this to me?" Her tone was as mild as she could make it, given that she was mad enough to spit nails. She wasn't scared yet, but she was getting there. "Your maidenly reserve does you credit, but you must let me be the judge of what is best. It is time for you to meet my mother. In Boston." Katie set her heels and looked up at him. "You're...you must be--" With his free hand, the man tipped his hat. "Hamilton Steens Whitney the Third at your service, Miss Lachlan. And now, perhaps you will accompany me without further ado?" His smile sent cold shivers up her spine. She swung the carpetbag sideways and hit him just above the knee. "Why you--" Katie bit down on another scream, this one of pain, as her arm was twisted up behind her back. "Let me go, you putrid polecat," she gasped. "The carriage will take us to the hotel," he said mildly, as if they were old friends. "You will be glad to freshen up. Our dinner reservations are for eight." "Not on your life," she snapped, trying again to free her wrist. "Need I remind you that a true lady never creates a scene?" His grip grew even

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html tighter. Katie's fingers went numb. She'd had enough! "I'll show you scene, you...you..." Again she set her feet, forcing him to drag her along the uneven wooden platform. "That's about enough, mister! Let me go!" She might have well have been tugging against a locomotive. "Help me!" she demanded of the porter, who still followed with her satchel. "Please!" He refused to look at her. Katie began to believe she was in real danger, right out here in broad daylight. They were clear at the end of the platform, past the caboose. None of the people who'd gotten off the train before her were anywhere in sight. No railroad men, other than her useless porter, were close enough to do her any good. Even the crowds of emigrants clustered about the big wagons were too far away. Her pa had told her once, "Don't scream unless you've got something to scream about--but if you do, shake the rafters." Right now she had plenty to scream about, but no one close enough to hear. She screamed anyhow. "Silence!" Pulling her close to him, the stranger twisted her arm even higher against her shoulder blade. "Mister, you'd better have a real good reason for holdin' onto that lady," a deep voice said from behind her. The grasp on her arm was relaxed, but didn't release. "My good man, this is none of your concern," Whitney said, his tone urbane. "My fiancée--" Katie gasped. "I'm not his fiancée!" She twisted around to see the red-haired man who'd caught her attention on the Chicago platform. "I don't even know this man." Once more she tried to free herself. The young man shifted his grip on the bedroll he carried. "Now mister, I'd purely hate to shoot a hole in my blanket, but I reckon I'd do it anyhow if you were to keep ahold of this lady." "You don't even have a gun," Whitney scoffed, stepping back and pulling Katie along with him. Before she realized what he was doing, the young man shoved the bedroll hard against Whitney's chest. "Would you like to chance your life that I don't?" he said softly. Suddenly Katie was free. She stepped back, just as Whitney called, "Muldoon! I need you!" "Run!" the young man told her. "My satchel--" "Goddammit, woman! Git!" Beyond him Katie saw an enormous, derby-hatted man climbing from the driver's seat of Whitney's carriage. She got. CHAPTER THREE Katie hadn't lost a footrace since she was twelve years old, even when her brothers' legs had grown longer than hers. This time the prize was more than a day off from her chores. It was her freedom. She ran up the platform toward the crowds of emigrants. The carpetbag banged against her leg. Steam from an incoming freight swirled around her and cinders crunched under her feet. She had to get far, far away from Hamilton Whitney.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Behind her, the sound of heavy footsteps grew fainter. She ran even faster, hating the skirts that slowed her. Ahead baggage carts queued in long lines beside the train, waiting for the roustabouts to fill them with crates and bundles. She dodged between two carts and up a ramp into a baggage car. No, not a baggage car. Wooden railings divided the interior into stalls. The floor was strewn with hay and the smell of horse was strong. Katie followed the narrow aisle between stalls to the end of the railcar where she slipped into the last stall, speaking reassuring nonsense words to its occupant. She'd rather trust herself to a strange horse than to Mr. Have-it-hisown-way Whitney. He'd acted as if anything he wanted he could reach out and take. A gentle tug on her sleeve made her aware of her stall-mate. "Well, hello there," she said softly. "I'll bet you're wondering what I'm doing here." She scratched under the chin of the small donkey. "Don't worry. I'll be gone before you know it." She set her carpetbag on the floor and leaned back into a corner. If only she hadn't had to abandon her satchel. Her red coat and hat were far too distinctive. And now she hadn't anything to change into. Slowly she counted to a thousand. At last, satisfied that she hadn't been seen entering the stock car, she eased out of the stall and cautiously made her way to the door. She peered out, scanning the area beside the train. The redheaded man was approaching, but there was no sign of the fancy carriage or its fancybritches passenger. She ducked back into the shadowy interior. As soon as he passed, she'd scoot out and see if she could find a ride to the ferry. And if all else failed, she'd walk. The redheaded man stepped onto the stock car's ramp. Quickly Katie returned to the donkey's stall. "You won't give me away, will you, sweetheart?" she whispered in the animal's ear. "Just pretend I'm not even here, please." The donkey responded with a soft snort. "Miss Lachlan? I know you're in here." She made herself as small as possible. His footsteps told her he'd gone to the other end of the car, but soon they came back in her direction. Katie picked up a handful of straw and spread it across her shoulders and atop her hat.How does he know my name? A mule brayed as the footsteps came closer. Katie held her breath. A long silence, then, "The other door's open about a foot. You should be able to slip out." He swung the stall door open. "That fancy swell's got a couple bullyboys lookin' through the railcars for you, but if you go toward the engine, they shouldn't see you." Hehad already given her one chance to escape Whitney. Katie stood. "Thanks," she said. "I'm obliged." "The wagons are still loading folks for the ferry. If you hurry, you should be

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html able to catch one. Hold on a minute, and I'll see if I can stir things up a mite." He went to the mule's stall, then paused. "Leave the hat. It shows up like a red dress on a parson." Not caring what it did to her hair, Katie pulled the hat off and tossed it into the donkey's stall. Now if she could only get rid of the coat too. He led the mule from its stall. Katie followed at a safe interval, wondering how he would stir things up. At the top of the ramp, he yelled and swatted the mule across the rump with his hat. With a loud bray, it leaped down the ramp, bucking and kicking, right into the midst of cattle being unloaded from the next car forward. All hell broke loose. Katie pushed through the opposite door and jumped down. As fast as she could, Katie trotted up the length of the train. Her feet slipped and crunched in the loose cinders between tracks. She was glad she'd worn her good boots, instead of proper lady's shoes. If she were in Boston, she'd find a policeman, but she wasn't sure there were any such things out here in Council Bluffs. So staying out of trouble was up to her, just as Pa had warned her it was likely to be. Even in a city, there's times a body has to take care of herself. You've been taught how to do that. See that you remember. "I forgot, Pa," she whispered. "I never figured there'd be any danger this side of the Missouri. Not on a train full of folks." She crossed the tracks beyond the engine and looked back along the length of the train. A big, stake-bed wagon was loading the last of the emigrants for transport to the ferries. She wormed her way into the crowd and climbed aboard. There was room for her on one rude plank bench along the side. She took it. A moment later a buxom young woman fell into Katie's lap as the wagon jerked into motion. "Beggin' your pardon, miss," a young woman said, squeezing into the narrow space beside her. "Oh, don't give it a thought," Katie said. "I imagine if they could they'd stack us like cordwood." "That they would. My ma had to hold my baby brother all the way from Chicago, it was that crowded in the car we was in." She peered at Katie through the dusty air. "Was you in our car? I don't remember seein' you." "No. I...ah, I was in another car." Katie couldn't remember how many of the plain, unadorned railcars there had been for the emigrants, but there had to have been more than one. She smiled. "I'm Katie. What's your name?" The girl's smile was friendly and open. "Lizzie Deaton. We're going to Minden, in Nebraska. My Pa's brother has a farm there and he says there's land a'plenty." Katie risked a quick peek between the boards behind her. There was no sign of Whitney or his lackeys. Just the busy rail yards and the train she'd arrived on. No black carriage. No tall man with empty ice-blue eyes. She was safe now, she told herself. For the moment. "Your father's a farmer?" "Well, no, not really, but he'd like to be. He's been workin' in the mills back in Ohio. His brother come out here two years ago and he writ to Pa that there was free land for just about anybody. So we saved up enough to pay for the train. And here we are." Her eyes shone with a spirit of adventure.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Perhaps Lizzie's dreams would not be buried under the harsh facts of reality. Katie had often heard Pa say that farming was just about the hardest work there was. She herself could not remember a time when she hadn't had chores. And they hadn't been make-work either, but very real contributions to the family's welfare. She thought quickly. The wagons would arrive at the docks in just a little while. Whitney would soon deduce where she was. "Lizzie, do you have a spare dress?" She looked down at her bright red coat. "And a coat?" "Well...yes, but nothing as nice as what you're wearin'." Katie hesitated, not wanting to hurt her new friend's feelings. "I need something a little...a little less fancy. Haven't you got a spare dress you would sell me?" "A dress?" Lizzie looked down at the faded gingham she wore under her wool shawl. Its carefully ruffled neckline and cuffs showed a certain vanity and pride of appearance. "I got me a housedress. It ain't near as nice as this." "Would you sell it to me?" "Lawks, Katie, it's just a faded old calico. It ain't even long enough for me." "That's fine." Lizzie was a little shorter than she, but far more full-bosomed. The dress would hang longer on Katie. "I'll give you a dollar for it." She saw hesitation in Lizzie's eyes. "Two." Round blue eyes got even rounder. "Two?" Lizzie whispered. "Two whole dollars?" "Yes, but you'll have to get some of the other women to hide me while I change into it. They can spread their skirts," she said, remembering stories her mother had told of crossing the treeless plains. Lizzie narrowed her eyes. "What you want my dress for? You plannin' on doing something bad?" "There's a man...I don't like him, but he likes me. And he's following me." The smile that spread across Lizzie's face showed that she was no child. "And you don't want him to find you. But won't he see you on the train?" "I hope not." She sincerely doubted that Hamilton Steens Whitney III would think to look for her among the emigrants. Not immediately, anyway. And once the emigrant train was away, he would have trouble catching up. Katie waited while Lizzie made up her mind. She hoped the girl wouldn't ask for much more than five dollars, because she had only about ten in her pocket. "Tell you what," Lizzie said after a few minutes. "I'll trade you my other dress and my old shawl straight across for that coat." "Done!" Katie set the carpetbag down and peeled out of the coat. Lizzie recruited her mother and sisters and two other women to surround Katie in a corner of the wagon while she changed into the faded blue calico dress. They were enthusiastic participants in the game of disguising Katie, laughing and teasing her. She wished she thought her predicament was amusing. Katie twitched and tied the calico into a semblance of style, then wrapped the threadbare wool shawl around herself. For a moment she regretted giving up her pretty red coat, with its fur trim and gold braid. But it was distinctive, easily recognized by someone trying to follow her. She said, "It's going to

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html be winter before I get where I'm going. Does anyone want to sell a coat?" In a few minutes Katie had a serviceable wool coat, a relic of the late War, with sleeves just a little too long and only two buttons missing. It cost her a five dollar gold piece, and was worth every penny. The attached cape probably made her look half as tall and twice as wide, but she didn't care. She'd stay warm. "My man's got a fiddle case," one of the women said. "He'd likely trade it for that carpetbag of yours." Katie had wondered how much mud it would take to disguise the distinctive floral pattern. "Perfect. Let's see if everything will fit." Fortunately Katie had wrapped each important item in her carpetbag in a shawl or a petticoat. Transferring them to the violin case was a simple task, and no one saw anything she didn't want them to see. While her fellow passengers were gathering their belongings prior to unloading, she rubbed her hand across the dusty floor of the wagon and then across her face. Her hair was now plaited and pinned into a severe style, and the heavy dark coat made her appear older and stocky. She hoped she no longer resembled the fashionable Miss Lachlan of Boise and Boston. *** By the time Luke and the cattle's owner got all the livestock calmed down, he figured she'd found a place to hide. The two bullyboys had stood around for a spell, cussing, then stomped off, so he figured they hadn't seen her get on the wagon. Had she? He'd been so busy sorting out the livestock he hadn't been able to make sure she'd found a ride to the docks. Even though his assignment didn't really start until they left Omaha, he considered himself on the job. The fancy swell must be who he was supposed to protect her from, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. Was she the swell's fiancée? Her denial had been vehement, but maybe they were just having a lovers' quarrel. Still, Luke didn't like to see women forced into anything, and he didn't regret interfering. He unloaded the two jennets, earning himself a bite from the smaller. Salome, that was her name. And the other, the sweet-tempered one, she was Sheba. He mounted Sheba, leading the other two. Smith had warned him that Lafayette-"Don't ever call him 'Lafe.' He don't cotton to it"--wouldn't be rode bareback, and didn't like carrying a man at any time. They passed two of the big transport wagons on the way down to the ferries across the Missouri. Was Miss Lachlan inside one of them? He hoped so. There had been four or five railcars full of emigrants on the train. How many thousands of farmers could Nebraska hold? Too many. He wasn't planning on being one of them, not when there was so much open land beyond. He'd read a little of Smith's book about raising mules this morning, enough to give him ideas about how to get away from being a farmer. There wasn't much that

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html would wear a man out and use him up faster, or break his heart quicker than farming, yet Luke had a deep and lasting hunger for land of his own, learned at his father's knee. His father's dream had taken him to Kansas, but years of Bushwacker raids had destroyed everything Adam Savage had built. When Luke's sister, Amy, died in a raid, his mother had given up. She had survived winter storms and summer tornadoes, grasshopper plagues and drought, but losing her daughter had killed her as surely as the bullet that snuffed out Amy's life. Luke had seen hope die in his father then. He'd aged, his hair turning white in a season, his back growing more rounded, as if the burden of life was too heavy to bear. He had not even objected when his son left to join the volunteer militia, not yet seventeen, but man-high and strong enough to lift a young bullock. Lucas wished Adam had lived long enough to welcome his son home from the War. But he had died in the winter before the War's end, and neighbors had dug the grave and minded the livestock until Luke's return. He gave them the farm and all it held, taking only his mother's ring and the family Bible. Mick had them now, and would hold them safe until Luke sent for them. All the way to the docks Luke thought about Miss Lachlan. She'd caught his eye in Chicago, and he hadn't been able to get her face out of his mind. Her wide mouth looked like it was about to smile, her pointed chin had a feisty tilt to it, hinting she wouldn't take orders from much of anybody. Down at the docks, the tall, twin stacks of the ferry towered above milling emigrants and bawling livestock. Luke pulled Sheba to a halt, looking down the sloping road. It would be a while before they could find space on one of the ferries. While he was waiting, he'd keep his eyes open for a fancy swell and his two bullyboys. *** After the crossing, the emigrants--those who couldn't afford a hotel room in Omaha--camped on open land just outside town. Katie chose to sleep in the lee of one of the wagons, far enough from any family group to preserve privacy, close enough to be heard if she called for help. She could have camped with Lizzie's family, who had lent her a quilt, but hadn't wanted to. Now that she was away from civilization, old cravings for solitude and silence were making themselves felt. She had been too long in the cities, and the far-off cry of a coyote was as lovely to her as the most poignant Beethoven sonata. Besides, she didn't anticipate needing assistance or protection, for she'd seen no sign of Whitney or his menacing lackeys since she escaped him. If she never saw any of them again, she would consider herself a lucky woman. She was ashamed of how easily Whitney had overpowered her. She vowed to herself that next time she wouldn't be taken unawares. Wouldn't Pa give her a scold, though! And her brothers would never let her live it down.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "You're not very big," Pa had told her more than once, "so you've got to be sneaky. Like this." And he would show her one more way of using her opponent's strength and momentum to defeat him. "If guile does not serve," her aunt advised, "then you must apply force." And she had given Katie the means to do so as a going-away gift. Katie had never imagined herself able to shoot a man, but this afternoon she could have, and never regretted it. She touched her aunt's derringer, tucked under her rolled-up petticoat pillow. No, next time Hamilton Steens Whitney III wouldn't take her unawares.

She dozed, never sleeping soundly, a technique learned in childhood, when the world had been full of perils for the careless. A sound not of the night brought her into complete wakefulness. She listened, waiting for it to be repeated. A muffled thud. Another. Katie relaxed, recognizing the random steps of a grazing horse. As if to reassure her, a soft whuffle came from beyond the cluster of wagons and tents. Turning onto her stomach, Katie propped her hands under her chin and looked across the moonlit plain. Here, just above the bluffs along the river, few trees broke the monotony of the measureless prairie. Far away sparks of yellow light marked civilization's encroachment on wilderness, but they were scattered and feeble. Yet if she were to turn her head just a little, she would see the vast Union Pacific yards piled high with supplies and equipment, humming even at night with the restless energy that was rushing to link East and West with a tie of iron rails. The horse drew nearer, until she could see it, pale and indistinct in the moonlight. No, it was a donkey, not a horse, small and gray, with a dark muzzle and a bristly mane. Its strong teeth chopped at the dry grass, each bite a faint rasp now that it had drawn close. Katie held out her hand, clucked her tongue in the way that had called their horses at home. The donkey raised its head, looked at her, and moved a little closer. She clucked again and was answered by a soft whuffle. Now she could see the lead attached to its halter. She reached out and caught it, drew it through her fingers. Sure enough, at the end was a stake, its pointed tip still damp from the ground it had been driven into. She looped the lead about her wrist and lay back, relaxed at last. First light would be soon enough to turn it loose. She wasn't likely to be accused of horse stealing in the middle of the night. And as long as the donkey

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html was nearby, no human could approach unheralded. Katie settled herself for sleep, wondering idly if this was the same donkey in whose stall she had taken refuge. What a day it had been! Would she have believed it if it had happened in a book? Probably not. That Hamilton Steens Whitney, III. Crazy as a bedbug. Coming all this way, believing she was going to marry him. Thinking he could make her do what he wanted. Katie smiled without opening her eyes. Pa could have told him how difficultthat could be. He'd said often enough that she had enough stubborn for four people and a cat. With any luck at all, she was shut of Whitney now. Surely he wouldn't follow her any farther west. And even if he did, she was now on her guard. And armed. Her thoughts drifted to the redheaded man who'd helped her without question. Something about him had appealed to her, in a way no man ever had before. She found herself thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. Up to now, she'd never had a kiss that felt a whole lot different from those she'd received from her brothers or her father. Sweet, affectionate, but not terribly exciting. Now she wondered if perhaps being kissed by the right man could be a whole world of different from being kissed by a brother. CHAPTER FOUR "If there's any damn critter worse than a stubborn, jug-headed jennet, I'll fry it up for supper," Luke muttered, approaching the low rise cautiously. Sheba had somehow pulled her hitch pin and wandered off. He'd awakened, as he often did, to check his surroundings and found himself short one ass. She wouldn't have gone into the rail yards, and the bluff was too steep for her to descend easily. So she must have come this way. He hoped. He stopped just below the rise, stepped forward just enough to see over the top. Luke realized he was acting as if he was alone in Indian country--or on a raid in enemy territory. Old habits died hard. On the other hand, a little caution had kept him in one piece through five years of war and three of cattle drives, so he guessed it wasn't unwarranted. "There you are, you idiot hayburner," he muttered. Quietly he approached the grazing ass, his footsteps only a faint whisper in the dry grass. He didn't want to startle Sheba. Like as not she'd set up a ruckus that would wake the whole emigrant camp. That or take off like her tail was on fire and he'd be the rest of the night catching her. Intent on sneaking up on Sheba, Luke didn't see the dark mound until he'd tangled his feet in it. He fell, landing on a soft, wiggling body. It whooshed at him just before it started trying to snatch him baldheaded. Hell!He caught the hands that flailed about his head, pinned the rest of the thrashing body with his own. It was only then he realized that he held a warm,

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html sweet-smelling, softly rounded female body, one he'd given some thought to holding, if circumstances had been a mite different. "Get off of me, you son of a cross-eyed frog!" She bucked under him, nearly dislodging him. Her knee rammed against his lower belly, just a little too high to do him considerable damage. "Hold still," he snapped, tightening his hold, "else I'll have to hog tie you." "You and what regiment?" "Lady, I was just looking for my ass...for my jennet. It ain't my fault you took a notion to sleep out here in the middle of the prairie." He loosened his hold again, hoping that she'd calmed down enough to listen to reason. "Well, it's not my fault you can't watch where you put your big feet." He breathed again of her fragrance, a combination of lilac and a deep, musky scent that reminded him of sweaty bodies and hot need. Luke felt himself harden, and he scooted to the side, still holding her wrists in one hand. "Turn me loose," she demanded, "or I'll kick the pea-waddin' out of you." Nose to nose, he stared into her face. "Lady, if I was going to do you harm, you wouldn't have had a chance. How come you're out here all alone?" As soon as he'd found a spot for his stock to graze, he'd gone looking for her, hoping she'd found refuge with the emigrants. Once he'd seen her safe among them, he'd gone back to his livestock, staked out not too far from the edge of the emigrant camp. Luke reckoned he'd given her credit for too much gumption. She hadn't had the good sense to stay with the emigrants, despite her scare. Her eyes narrowed as she recognized him. "And what business is that of yours?" She tugged, trying again to free her hands. Unable to break his hold, she stopped fighting and glared at him. "Turn me loose!" "Not 'til you give me your word you'll go back where there's folks about." Her teeth flashed in a quick smile. "I'm probably safer out here, as long as that donkey is nearby." He'd be hanged if she was going to have the last word. "That's my jennet, Miss Lachlan, and I ain't leaving her out here all night." "How do you know my name?" "Never mind. Will you go back?" "I'll move closer to the wagons," she countered, her voice pleading. Her eyes gleamed in the starlight. Her lips were a darker smudge against the pale ivory of her face. Luke stared at her for a long moment. Then he shook his head. "You don't give an inch, do you?" "Not if I can help it." Laughter lurked behind her words. "Can't we compromise?" He released her. "Keep the jennet. I'll be back before daylight to get her." And he'd move Lafayette and Salome up closer, so he could keep her in sight the rest of the night. He wasn't likely to sleep anyhow, wondering what damfool thing she'd do next. He rolled to his knees, but before he could stand, she said again, "How do you know my name?" Luke improvised. "I heard the swell say it."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html She seemed satisfied, for she pushed herself upright. Her face was only inches from his. Luke could feel the faint warmth of her breath, smelled again a bare hint of lilac. He licked his lips. So did she. Luke fought the urge to lean forward just a little. To kiss her. Fought and won. If he started, he was afraid one kiss wouldn't be enough. "Look, I'm real sorry I grabbed hold of you like that. Once I knew you were a woman, I mean. But you smelled so good, felt so--" He halted, feeling heat mount into his face. "I haven't held a woman for a long time, and I reckon I just went a little crazy." Her smile widened. "No harm done, I guess. You just startled me, falling all over me like that." She straightened her skirt around her legs. Not before he had a chance to see that her ankles were slim, her calves nicely rounded "I hope you didn't get in trouble for what you did this afternoon. Those men might have caught me if you hadn't stirred up the stock like that." "Glad to oblige. Why were they chasing you, anyhow?" "Let's just say I didn't want to be made to do what I didn't choose." "Can't blame you for that. I don't take kindly to folks telling me what to do either." "Yes, well--" She looked up at him, eyes huge. "I really am obliged--" "Show me," he said, knowing he was the biggest damned fool on God's green earth, "just how obliged you are." "What do you mean?" "What do I mean? Lady, you're about three spuds short of a stew if you can't figure that out." With his free hand, he drew a line from one corner of her mouth to the high collar of her dress, feeling the heat of her all the way up his arm. "I'll settle for a kiss." For a long moment she said nothing. Then, "All right." Leaning forward, she closed her eyes and pursed her lips. Luke scooted closer. "I ain't your brother," he said, taking her into his arms. He took his time. First he tasted her lips, licking at the corners, running his tongue along the crease until she opened to him. Then he dipped into the honeywarmth of her mouth, finding every crevice, every secret. When she moaned, he swallowed the sound and pulled her closer. The soft pressure of her uncorseted breasts against his chest inflamed him. He drove his tongue into her mouth again and again, in desperate imitation of what he wanted to do to her. His fingers released the buttons at the neck of her gown and found skin, tender, delicate, softly rounding into the swell of her breasts. "No. Please. No more," she said into his mouth. Her words were weak, as if she was saying them reluctantly. "No more." Luke immediately released her, ashamed that he'd let his hunger overcome his good sense. With an effort he controlled his breathing, forced his body into compliance.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "Godalmighty!" he said as she slowly pulled herself away from him. "You let me know next time you need help, hear? I'll be around." He'd do most anything to be kissed like that again. *** Katie woke at dawn when the redheaded man came for his jenny, but she didn't move, didn't even open her eyes. What would she say to him? That she'd relived his kisses over and over again in her dreams? That she wanted more? No, it was better that she let him think she was fast asleep. Now she'd never see him again, and that would be all for the best. A man like that, capable, independent, chivalrous--he'd want to take care of her. Katie Lachlan needed no man that way. Until last night, she'd needed no man, period. As soon as she'd put up her hair when she was sixteen, the boys had started flocking round. "Like bears to a honey-tree," Pa had said. She'd laughed with them, danced with them, even flirted a little bit with them. But that was all. It had been hard for her to take her popularity seriously, considering how few girls there were in Boise City five years ago. Ellen had gone East almost as soon as they'd moved to town, and their younger sisters had been seven and two. No wonder all the males between seventeen and fifty-six had paid Katie court. By the time she was in school back East, Katie had recognized she was far pickier about men than most of her friends. Of course, having a pa like hers--not to mention her uncle and her godfather--to compare all her would-be suitors with hadn't made matters any better. It would take quite a man to live up to her idea of a husband. Hamilton Steens Whitney III definitely didn't fit the mold. She wouldn't have considered him even if he'd approached her in the accepted manner. Not an Easterner. Admitting to prejudice had been hard for her, this past winter. From earliest childhood, Katie had been taught to value a man for what he did, not for who he was or where he lived. She liked to think she didn't have a bigoted bone in her body. But she couldnever marry an Easterner as Ellen had. Nice as Charles was, he simply wasn't a cut of cloth that would wear well in the high country. Which was where Katie now knew she had to live. Up among the tall pines, where the horizon was either close up and looming high above you, or so far away it made your eyes ache to look at it. In just a few more days she'd see the Rocky Mountains. Then she'd really, truly believe she was on her way home. In the meantime, she had to figure out what to do if Hamilton Steens Whitney III followed her all the way to Idaho. That thought brought her up short.What the dickens am I running from? He can't hurt me! He'd have never laid a hand on her yesterday if she hadn't been caught unprepared. It was her own mistake, but one she'd not repeat. She sat up and stretched. Her breath made a cloud in the cold morning air. Goosebumps chased down her arms as she tucked the cold derringer into her bodice and raised her skirt to check the knife she wore in a sheath strapped just

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html above her knee. I'll be ready for him if he tries again. *** "Hey! You with the mules! Your name Lucas Savage?" Luke turned slowly, taut with dread anticipation. The conductor stood in the wide doorway of the stock car. Forcing himself to relax, one muscle at a time, he said, "It is." "You got a telegram." The conductor hooked a thumb to his right. "I left it at the depot, in case it wasn't for you." "Thanks. How long before we pull out?" "You got just about time enough to pick it up. If you hurry." Checking the catch on Salome's stall one last time, Luke patted her gray rump. "Mind your manners girl. You don't want to get us kicked off, do you?" The ass whuffled and nodded her head vigorously. Luke was pretty sure she understood every word. He loped to the depot and identified himself to the telegraph operator. The man handed over a flimsy sheet of paper. Good news never came in telegrams. He'd heard that more than once. Luke swallowed hard, steeling himself to unfold it. BREEDLOVE KIN ON YOUR TRAIL SEEN ARRIVING CHICAGO YESTERDAY STOP MICK Well, hell! "Bad news?" the telegraph operator asked. "Ain't it always?" "I dunno. Last week I got one telling a gent he had a son. He was plumb tickled." Luke grinned in spite of himself. "You get one like that for me, I don't want it. Talk about bad news!" "This fella was married. Guess that makes a difference." "Guess it does. Thanks for telling the conductor about this," he said, waving the telegram. "I'm obliged." "Just doin' my job." Luke chewed his lip as he strode back to the train. So Japhet Breedlove's kin were on his trail. Sooner or later they'd trace him to the stockyards, where he'd worked for a few days. There wasn't any reason why the foreman wouldn't tell them Luke had gone West. And once they found out he'd acquired two asses and the mule, they'd have no trouble following him. Maybe he could stay ahead of them until he got to Ogden. Then he could disappear into the hills. They'd have a hell of a time finding him after that. *** Katie followed Lizzie down the aisle of the railcar, stepping over parcels and feet, doing her best not to drop the rolled-up quilt she carried under her left arm. And trying to avoid hitting people with the fiddle case she held with her right hand. The carpetbag had been far easier to handle. An elderly man took her elbow and helped her past a pile of blanket-wrapped bundles in the aisle. He looked to be about the age she hoped she appeared. She ought to be helping him, not the other way around. So far her disguise was passing muster. She just hoped it would last until they were well away from Omaha. She'd have to be careful not to rub her ashwhitened

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html hair against anything. It wouldn't do to have it go from gray to black right there in the railcar. The Deatons occupied two facing seats in the middle of the car. There was room for Lizzie's parents and the two youngest children and all of their belongings, but Katie, Lizzie and the older boys were on their own. Katie nudged Lizzie and pointed to two empty seats close to the opposite end of the car. "Hurry! Before anyone else gets them!" Lizzie pushed her way through, shoving past people who were vainly trying to fit all their possessions onto the overhead shelf. She reached the seats just before two young men did, and slipped into the inside one next to the dirty window. When one of the young men moved to crowd himself in beside her, she said, "Oh, please! This seat's for my old granny!" Katie did her best not to dissolve into giggles. But she took the seat without a twinge of regret. Safety lay in staying close to the Deatons, at least until they were well away from Omaha. The young men took a look at Katie and departed. She winked at Lizzie. But she didn't relax her scowl, or allow her lips to return to their natural curve. "They'd'a stayed, if I'd have given 'em a smile," Lizzie whispered. "The one with the moustache was real nice-lookin'." "Take my word for it, Lizzie. There will be plenty of men as good looking as he is where you're going. You'll be fighting them off with a stick by the time you've been there a month." "Oh, I hope so!" Lizzie stood on the seat to stow her bundle in the skimpy overhead rack. "You want to put that fiddle case up here? I think there's room." "No. I'll hold onto it," Katie said. She knew she should stow it, as big and awkward as it was. But the scarred case held the means to her survival, and she was not going to let it out of her hands. Katie found she could wedge the case between her and the armrest on the aisle side of the seat. Perhaps she could even lean against it if she decided to nap. The train's whistle sounded, two long wails. Slowly objects outside the window started to move backward--that was always the impression she got. Katie forced her hands to relax, her jaw to unclench. They were on their way. "Katie, look there! On the platform! Ain't he about the fanciest man you ever did see!" Leaning forward, Katie peered through the window. But she stayed far enough back that anyone outside would have trouble seeing her clearly. "He looks like one of them senators I saw a picture of in a newspaper once." Lizzie sounded awed. "All spiffed up, with shiny shoes and a gold-headed cane. Right pretty, ain't he?" "He looks like a horse," Katie said, turning her face away from the window. "And his shoes won't stay shiny long, not in Omaha." She leaned back and folded her

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html arms across her chest. "I'm going to take a nap." As the train picked up speed, the clackety-clack of the rails soothed her. The sleeping car she'd had tickets for would be coupled to another train, one that did not carry hordes of emigrants and stop every five miles or so. Mr. Pockets-Full- of-Money Whitney could still get ahead of her. He could be waiting for her at any station along the line. *** The distance between Omaha and Sidney was four hundred and fourteen miles, according to the timetable Luke had tucked into his coat pocket. On a fast train, it took about twenty hours to make the journey. On a slow train, like this one, it might take as much as two days. According to the conductor, this was a special, put together just to carry the emigrants to their new homes. One like it ran twice a week, carrying up to five hundred settlers at a time. The emigrant train would spend almost as much time on sidings, being passed by fast freights and passenger trains, as it did moving. If Miss Lachlan had taken the faster train, he would have been forced to also. He would have had to ship his stock, trusting someone else to feed and water them. This was better. Lafayette and the jennets were his best chance for a new life. At Sidney the stock car would be hitched up with the through passenger railcars for the rest of the journey. The conductor had said that this week they were carrying passengers as far as Bridger, adding, "But I'll be damned if I know why a body'd want to go there." Restless, unable to sleep with the constant noise of crying babies and snoring adults, Luke got to his feet. Immediately the fellow in the other seat spread out and lay across both. Luke didn't blame him. A man could get a permanent crick in his neck, trying to be comfortable in these wooden seats. There were no poker games in this train. Not that he minded. He'd had enough good luck to last a lifetime. Nor was there much else to take his mind off the Breedlove boys. He kept his eye out for Miss Lachlan, but didn't see her as he passed through two more darkened railcars. There were women a'plenty, but none with hair so black, a mouth so kissable. He knew she was on board, though. He'd seen her as she boarded. That old army coat she'd acquired somewhere was unmistakable. He reached the back end of the last railcar and stopped to lean out of the open vestibule window. Black billows from the engine's smokestack climbed straight up to the gathering clouds tonight, instead of drifting back along the train. The night air was cold and fresh--he'd forgotten how clean it could smell--and carried a hint of rain. The air inside the railcars was thick with smoke and the sour odor of tired folks who'd had no baths for a long time.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html No stars tonight, he thought, looking up into blackness. Sunset had been merely a fading of light, for clouds had been moving in, scudding along ahead of an icy wind. Winter was on its way, for certain. As long as it got no colder, he would be happy. He'd lived through enough Northers to go a long time without another one. With one last deep breath he turned, and almost ran into a little old lady in the doorway. "Beg pardon, ma'am," he said, grabbing the door and holding it. She slipped by him, moving easily, and leaned out the open window. He could see her taking deep breaths, her eyes closed. One hand grasped the edge of the window, steadying her against the sway of the train, while the other clutched a shabby violin case. "Are you all right?" he said, wondering if she was sick. She looked back at him, smiling. "I'm fine," she said. "But I wouldn't have been if I hadn't gotten some fresh air soon. All the windows in our car are closed, and the air is so thick you could slice it up and serve it for supper." Luke looked more closely. Her hair was gray, her face lined, but her voice...."Miss Lachlan!" "I beg your pardon?" Her voice was starchy, but the corner of her mouth twitched. "You're the girl I left Sheba with. The girl I ki--" "Thank you for the use of Sheba," she said, smiling. She still looked like an old lady. But she didn't, either, because no old lady had a smile like that. "You're welcome, ma'am. Anytime." "I sincerely hope I won't need a guardian donkey ever again." Her smile flashed again. She held out her unburdened hand. "Please call me Katie. I feel like we're old friends." And she blushed! He took it, wishing he had the fine manners to lift it gracefully to his lips as he'd seen some men do. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Luke...Lucas Savage." He stared at her, seeing now that the lines on her face were drawn there, the gray in her hair ashes or something. "You're still hiding?" Nodding, she said, "Until I can find a bucket of water, at least. I think...I hope the man I'm hiding from is still back in Omaha. I should be safe until we reach Laramie." A succession of short blasts sounded from the engine, eerie cries in the lonely night. Luke leaned out to see why. "Buffalo on the track?" Katie said. "Can't see." He leaned farther. "Yeah, I think so." A moving, shifting mass blacker than the night extended as far as he could see. Metal shrieked against metal as the train slid to a stop. Katie crowded against him, trying to see. Lordy, but she was a little bitty thing. Her chin barely topped the bottom window frame. Without thinking, Luke caught her around the waist and lifted so most of her upper body hung out the window. The violin case bumped against

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html his thigh, her bottom against his groin. He swallowed, hoping she would hold still. "Can you see now?" "There must be thousands," she said. "I can't see the end...." A shot sounded. Another. Luke put her down, leaned out himself. Up toward the front of the train lanterns and torches were appearing. In their flickering light he could see men with long guns standing on the sides of the engine and in the doors of the baggage cars. They were firing at the mass of buffalo. Even as he watched, a magnificent bull crashed to the ground next to the train. Other animals stumbled and fell, or reared, attempting to turn away from the rain of lead. Raucous yells sounded with the collapse of each slain animal. "Oh, no!" Katie gasped. "No! They mustn't!" "I guess there's always more where they came from," Luke said, although he was sickened by the slaughter. "How can you say that? Those men are shooting simply for sport." Tears glistened on her cheeks, washing white traces in the lines making her seem an old woman. "They'll leave the meat to rot." Luke had never thought much about killing, he had just done what was needed. Until he'd seen Japhet Breedlove die in the dust of a cattle town street. He'd thought about little else for the two months since. He put his arm around Katie. "A man oughtn't to kill unless he's hungry," he said, stating the conclusion he'd come to in long hours of soul searching. Holding her close to his chest, he stared out into the night, listening as animal after animal died so that men might have sport. Eventually the train began moving. Behind it lay the carcasses of forty or more buffalo, their meat unused, their hides untanned. Luke walked Katie back to her seat. Neither of them said a word. *** "Next stop, Fort Kearney!" Katie opened one eye as the conductor brushed by her, nudging the violin case she was leaning on. The lamp at the far end of the railcar had gone out, but cold, gray light shone struggled through the grimy windows, making everything in the railcar into ghostly shadows. When the conductor left the car, the noise from the rails swelled, then subsided again to the muffled clackety-clack that seemed to penetrate into her very bones. "Lizzie," she whispered, nudging the young woman whose head lay on her lap. "Lizzie, wake up!" Down the car she could see the elder Deatons gathering their bundles, could hear the querulous protests of the two youngest children. "Lizzie! You've got to wake up now!" She patted the girl's cheek until her eyes opened. "Huh? Whazzat?" "We're coming to Fort Kearney. Time to get off." Lizzie sat up quickly. "Oh. Oh, lordy! Where's my shoe! Are Timmy and Joe

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html awake?" She bent over and peered under the seat. "I can't find my shoe!" "It's over by the wall. And your bonnet's up there on your bundle." Lizzie scrambled about, gathering her belongings, fussing with her hair. "I must look like I've been sleeping in the barn. And there's a hole in my stocking." She took the bonnet Katie handed her. "Oh, Katie, I wish you were coming with us." "I'm going home, Lizzie. But maybe I can come visit you when I go back East to see my sister." For a moment she considered staying in Nebraska a while with the Deatons. Whitney would never find her there. "Are you gonna be all right? I'd be scared to death to go all the way to Idaho alone. With them savage Injuns and all." Katie grinned. "Believe me, Lizzie, there's not an Indian in the West that's as dangerous as some of the men in towns." She hugged her new friend, conscious of a sense of loss. Lizzie was just plain nice. "I'll be fine. Why I'm practically next door to home." Katie walked with Lizzie to her parents' seat, said farewell to the rest of the family. "I'll never forget how you took me in and cared for me," she told Mrs. Deaton. "It was the least we could do," the woman told her, clearly distracted with keeping her children and her belongings together. The train slowed, its whistle piercing the frosty morning. People and bundles tumbled into the aisle as it jerked to a halt. "Fort Kearney comin' up," bawled the conductor from the end of the railcar. "Breakfast stop!" "You sure you'll be all right, Miss Lachlan?" Mr. Deaton asked as he waited for his family to proceed him down the aisle. "I'm sure, but thank you for being concerned. I really can take care of myself." Most of the passengers got off for breakfast. Katie lingered, using her handkerchief to wipe the worst of the dark lines from her face. There wasn't a thing she could do about the ashes on her hair, for her hairbrush had been in the satchel she'd lost in Council Bluffs. She reset hairpins so that her braids clung close to her head. Now she was ready to face the world. Coffee would taste good, if she could get a cup. So far since leaving Chicago, she'd mostly been content just to get a plate shoved her way as a harried waiter passed by. She picked up her violin case and followed her fellow passengers into the dining room. So many of the emigrants had left the train that she found a seat with no problem and was able to enjoy two cups of hot, bitter coffee while she ate her biscuits and ham. Feeling well fed, she strolled back to the train. For the first time since Omaha, she felt safe. Smiling, she accepted the conductor's hand into the railcar. She ignored the questioning look he gave her. Let him wonder about the little old lady who grew younger by the hour. Back in her seat, she looked down the length of the railcar. There weren't

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html more than fifteen or so people left, one large family, it looked like, and the rest men traveling alone. Would she have the car to herself by the time they reached Cheyenne? Or would she have to move? She supposed the conductor would tell her when the time came. "All aboard!" As she watched, a lithe figure dashed from the depot and swung aboard. Blazing red hair shone in the weak winter sunlight. She wondered how far Luke Savage was traveling. CHAPTER FIVE After Fort Kearny, the train sat on sidings more often than it moved. This gave Katie far too much time to think. About a man who had followed her all the way from Boston. About a man who'd kissed her until her toes curled. They both frightened her, in vastly different ways. Much as she hated to admit it, Hamilton Steens Whitney III might be a bigger problem than she could handle. Oh, mostly he made her mad. Sending her those flowers, assuming she was his for the taking. Haring after her for a thousand miles. Some of her mad was at herself, for not taking him seriously. His last note, arriving after Charles had told him in no uncertain terms that she wanted nothing to do with him, should have told her that he was more than determined. The train slowed for another water stop. Katie leaned her forehead against the grimy window and stared out at the sere autumn landscape. Flat, colorless, the plains gradually gave way along the river bottom to cottonwoods, bedecked with black silhouettes of resting crows and magpies, bare, skeleton branches clutching at low clouds. Was Mr. Bloodhound Whitney still trailing her? Or had she left him behind in Council Bluffs? Him and his brawny lackeys? She wanted to believe she had. She was afraid she hadn't, afraid he might be a bigger problem than she'd ever had to deal with. Closing her eyes, Katie pictured the horizon from home. Not gentle, as she had seen from the windows of her room at school in South Hadley, with roundtopped trees softening even the steepest hill. Not flat and monotonous, as the view

outside the train was. At home you looked up to the high, sharp ridges, or

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html you looked far across vistas stretching a hundred miles or more. How she wanted to be there, at home in Idaho. At home, she admitted, where Pa would stand between her and Mr. Horse-face Whitney and she wouldn't have to be quite so strong and brave.I can take care of myself , she repeated silently.But I'd feel a lot easier if Pa were here. She fell into a light doze, aware of stops and starts, of iron wheels screeching against iron rails, of raucous laughter from the other end of the railcar where men threw dice and quenched their thirst from flasks carried inside their vests. While she didn't really sleep, Katie drifted into the almost-dreams that sometimes came to that indescribable place between sleep and waking. They had no form, no coherence, no evident meaning. Just a face, a smiling face. Red hair and mustache, deep not-quite-dimples in his cheeks, a leather vest smelling of wood smoke and horse. A rumbly, gentle voice, that warmed and soothed. And promised. She woke listening for it. So this was what it was all about--the dreaminess, the impatience she'd sensed in Ellen just before her sister's wedding. And Ma, too. Was this...this needy feeling why Ma had refused to remain in Boston a minute longer than Pa, even though Katie and Ellen had begged her to stay the winter? Katie knew, without knowing why or how, that Lucas Savage could become an important part of her life. Only time would tell how important. Toward sunset, most of the passengers got off, leaving only Katie and a family of emigrants in the railcar. The mother's voice soothed whining children after the supper stop. When she sang to them, Katie too slept, soundly this time. She didn't wake again until sometime in the dark chill of the night. "Miss? Miss, you'll have to wake up now." She opened her eyes. The conductor was standing over her. "Yes? What?" For an instant she was frozen with apprehension. The lantern lit his face from the side, stark shadows making his brushy side-whiskers and mustache seem dangerous. Threatening. She reached for her derringer. "It's North Platte, Miss. We're taking this railcar off here. You'll have to move to another one." He smiled. Now Katie saw the friendly, gentle face she'd seen all day and relaxed, taking her hand from her coat pocket. "I'll help you with your baggage. Just show me what you've got." "This is all. I can handle it myself," Katie told him. Bless Mrs. Deaton, she thought, shivering as she unwrapped the shabby but still warm quilt she'd covered herself with. The woman had insisted that she take the quilt and a spare pair of wool stockings when she'd discovered all Katie had was what she carried in the fiddle case. Katie rolled the quilt into a tidy bundle that would fit under her arm. "Just this and my case." She followed the conductor down the aisle and took his arm to step to the ground. Cinders crunched under her boots as she walked the short distance to the

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html next railcar ahead. The outside air, bitterly cold, smelled of coal smoke and hot oil. Even though it had to be well past midnight, the growl and clash of industry was as loud as she'd heard it in the Chicago rail yards. Torches and lanterns lit walkways between enormous piles of supplies, along which scurried workmen laden with tools or pulling high-wheeled baggage carts heaped with angular and odd-shaped bundles. She wondered if one of them was her trunk, or if it was already in Salt Lake City. "Only one passenger car's going on to Cheyenne," the conductor told her as he helped her to step into the vestibule, "coupled onto the back of a freight. Once there, they'll make up a new train for points west." "I'll be fine," she assured him, taking back the rolled quilt which he had insisted on carrying. She eased through the narrow door and let it swing shut behind her. Her breath made a cloud before her as she peered along the aisle, trying to see an empty seat. The lanterns at each end of the car gave little light. Katie moved slowly between the rows of unpadded wooden seats, stepping carefully to avoid legs stretched into the aisle, bundles set wherever there was space. The first empty place she found was beside a large woman whose snores had been audible clear up at the end of the railcar. Katie considered herself a sound sleeper, but there was a limit. She went on. "Hssst!" She peered through the gloom. It was impossible to identify the owner of the waving hand. For just a moment butterflies fluttered in her middle. She simply didn't want to have to deal with Mr. Toad-ugly Whitney this time of night. The hiss came again. "Miss Lachlan!" His voice was muted, but held no hint of crisp Boston inflection. She stepped over still another pair of legs and slid into the empty seat beside Luke Savage. It wasn't altogether proper for her, a single woman with no companion, to sit with a chance acquaintance but she had to admit that she would feel far more comfortable with Luke than she would with someone she didn't know at all. He'd already helped her twice. Luke rose to let her slide by him. "Thank you," she whispered, "but I'd just as soon sit on the aisle." "You're gonna make me sit all night long with my knees tucked up under my chin? After I gave up my nice soft bed just to let you sit with me?" Luke liked the way her eyes lit up when she glanced at his long legs. "Why then, Mr. Savage, I'd be delighted to sit by the window." She set her fiddle case on the floor by the wall and scooted over to give him room. Yep. She was a little, bitty thing, all right. "You wrap that quilt tight around yourself, Miss Lachlan. It's colder than a well digger's...uh, it's mighty cold in here, once we get moving." She smiled, and he had the awful feeling she knew exactly what he'd almost said.Damn! It's too long since I've been around a lady. Way too long. His next breath brought him a faint scent, lilacs again. A spark flared in his belly, pulsing as a deeper breath spread the smell of springtime throughout his body. "Have you a blanket? I could share my quilt." Luke's eyes felt as if they would cross. If she had any idea of how her innocent offer had aroused him, she'd probably get off the train and walk to the next

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html station. "I'll be fine," he said, hearing the hoarseness in his own voice. "I'm used to making do." He pulled his sheepskin coat tighter about his body, as if by doing so he could insulate himself from the heat of her arm where it brushed his. "G'night." He slid down and let his head rest on the back of the seat, his legs extend into the aisle. With any luck, his neck wouldn't be completely broke come morning. As he closed his eyes, he heard her soft, "Good night, Luke. Thank you for sharing your seat." By the time the conductor called the breakfast stop at Sidney, Nebraska, he was cold, hungry, and so damn sleepy he'd probably doze off with his face in his food. If he had a dollar for every minute he'd slept since she sat down next to him, his pockets would be empty. Luke went to check his stock after wolfing down four eggs, half a dozen corn dodgers, and about a quart of coffee. Lafayette was restive, clearly tired of traveling on anything but his own four feet. Salome tried to take a bite out of his arm, and Sheba snuffled into his shirt like the flirt she was. "Another couple of days and you'll be off this train," he promised them. "The conductor says I can leave you with the wrangler at End-of-Track while I see the lady on to Salt Lake City. Then I'll come back for you and we'll start lookin' for a place of our own." He scratched Sheba between the ears. "How does Wyoming sound?" Salome tried to bite his other arm, and Lafayette let out a loud bray that sounded more likeno than anything. Luke laughed. "Well, then you figure it out. I don't much care where we end up. Long as there's good bottom land to be had, I can settle pretty much anywhere." After checking their water buckets and feedbags once more, he patted each of the asses and the mule. "You folks talk it over and decide where we're goin', once we get Katie safe to her pa. I'll be back this evening." Tarnation! That's what comes of herding cows for too long. You're talking to a mule like he had some sense. Of course, he'd known some mules that had better sense than a lot of folks. At the stock car's door, Luke stepped aside to let a fellow lead a sorrel gelding up the ramp. "Morning," he said, before he got a good look at the man. The other nodded. "Howdy." Slanting morning sun revealed the stranger's face, and Luke stumbled to a halt. He'd just seen a ghost. Either that, or Japhet Breedlove had a twin brother. *** After Luke went to the stock car, Katie decided to walk the length of the platform. She wasn't used to sitting so much, not even at the Seminary. Both the teachers and her fellow students had thought her crazy for insisting on walking three or four miles a day, no matter the weather. They'd been scandalized the

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html first time she'd done it on showshoes. Their train wasn't due to depart until midday. First it had to be assembled. A stock car and a single passenger coach sat on a short spur. The adjacent rails held a long string of coupled railcars. Between them, Katie could see a line of coupled boxcars, then farther on more boxcars, their sliding doors gaping open on black emptiness. Luke was still busy in the stock car, so Katie started walking, counting boxcars as she passed them. There were eight. Next was a string of flatcars that seemed endless. They held rails and machinery, telegraph poles, enormous crates, bundles of iron bars and bins labeled with cryptic abbreviations and symbols. At the eleventh one, she turned. Looked back. It was at least a half-mile back to the caboose. Katie took a firmer grip on her fiddle case and ran. Oh, how good it felt! Luke was standing at the foot of the ramp into the stock car when she reached it. His face had a strange expression, sort of far away, and maybe a little puzzled. "Were you waiting for me?" "Um?" He seemed to see her for the first time. "Oh. Yeah. I was going to walk you over to the depot." Katie stopped herself just before she stuck her tongue out. He wasn't her brother. But he was as easy to catch in a fib. She had been the last thing on his mind. They walked together to the depot, a raw, wooden building with a few hard, uncomfortable benches. Katie watched Luke's face surreptitiously. Something was on his mind. Something unpleasant. Shaking her head, she told herself not to be so fanciful. He was a kind, decent man who happened to be willing to travel with her for a while. Until she knew Mr. High-falutin' Whitney hadn't followed her from Omaha, she was just as happy to have a companion. Luke knew he was brooding, but he couldn't help it. Finally, after better than an hour in the dismal depot, he turned to Katie, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor. She had her fiddle case open, but the lid kept him from seeing what she was doing. "Let's go for a walk," he said. She looked up. "Where?" "Hell! I don't know. Somewhere. We got another two hours before our train's ready to go--if it's on time. I sure don't want to sit here that long. I'll take root." "O.K. Just a minute." Tongue between her teeth, she did some more fussing inside the case. It looked to Luke like she was wrapping something up. "That ain't a fiddle you've got in there. Too heavy." "No, it's not." She closed the lid and snapped the catches. "There. I'm ready."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html She scrambled to her feet, fiddle case and all. "So, are you gonna tell me what's in there?" "I don't think so. Not now." She smiled, but her words were final. "The conductor said town is over south of the tracks. Shall we see the sights?" Luke considered taking his bedroll back to the stock car, leaving it with his saddlebags. The rifle it held was probably his most expensive possession. And while he didn't intend to use it for anything but putting food on his table, he didn't want to find himself empty-handed in a situation that called for it. He slung it over his shoulder. Katie grinned at him as he emerged into the wintry sunlight. "You gonna tell me what you've got in that bedroll?" For an instant he missed the twinkle in her eye. Then he grinned back. "I don't think so," he said. "Not now." Tucked back behind the bank was a small shack from which drifted the aroma of fresh-baked bread. Without a word, they both turned in that direction. "My pa always said to carry spare food when setting out into unknown country," Katie said, not quite smiling. "We're not apt to get a dinner stop, not with our train pulling our just after noon," Luke agreed soberly. They went inside. Soon they had a flour sack filled with bread, cinnamon rolls, and a napkinwrapped packet of what the baker called 'Cornish pasties.' Luke had never heard of them, but from their smell, they were made out of real food. He was digging for his purse when Katie handed the baker a couple of coins. "You bought breakfast," she said. "My turn." Now Lucas Savage was brought up to be a gentleman. At least his ma had tried to turn him into one. Not all of her teaching had taken, but he did know that a gentleman never let a lady pay for dinner. "Not on your life!" "Oh, don't be silly, Luke! I've got plenty of money, and you've been helping me out ever since I ran into you back in Council Bluffs. The least I can do is pay for this." "It ain't fitten!" "No, but it should be. My Pa says that any woman who thinks she can take care of herself is living in a dream unless she pays her own way. He hasn't much use for the fancy ladies who need a man to take care of them." The baker was watching them, a wide smile on her face. Luke put his purse back into his waistcoat, vowing silently that he'd see that she took his money later. Katie led the way outside. "Don't sulk, Luke," she said as they headed back toward the depot. "I'll let you pay for supper, if we're still traveling together." "I ain't sulking!" "Of course you're not." She laughed. "You remind me so much of my brother. He hates it when I win an argument, too." For some reason that bothered him more than her paying for the baked goods. "I

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html ain't your brother," he growled as they emerged onto the board sidewalk, "and don't you forget it." The look she slanted at him durn near set his back teeth on fire. He shoved his hands into his front pants pockets, lest he disgrace himself right out here on the street. Looking for a neutral topic of conversation, he said, "Who was that swell you ran away from back at Council Bluffs?" Katie strode along beside him for several steps. Her stride didn't quite match his--her legs were a sight shorter--but he never had the feeling he'd had with some ladies that he needed to stop every so often and let her catch up. "His name is Hamilton Steens Whitney the Third," Katie said in an exaggerated accent. "He's from Boston, and he's a really rich, powerful man." From the corner of his eye, he saw how she chewed her lip. "You're not going to believe this." "Try me." "For some strange reason, he's decided I'm the perfect wife for him. And he won't take no for an answer." "And you don't want to marry him?" "Luke, I don't evenknow him!" She stopped, and the fiddle case swung against his leg with a solid thump. It felt far heavier than it looked. "The only time I've ever spoken to him was when he tried to kidnap me in Council Bluffs. He'd followed me all the way from Boston." "Kidnap you?" He couldn't help but laugh. "That's a good one. He wants to marry you, so he's going to carry you off like somebody in some fairy tale." "Iknew you wouldn't believe me!" She stepped out, walking briskly. Luke had to jog a few steps to catch up with her. "Hell...I mean, tarnation, Katie! You really expect me to believe a man from Boston is gonna come all the way to Iowa so he can kidnap a bride?" Luke had figured her folks were rich and the swell had wanted to hold her for ransom. Or maybe he was part of a blood feud against her family. But a determined suitor who wouldn't take no for an answer? It sounded like something out of one of those penny dreadfuls Mick liked to read. "I don't care whether you believe me or not, Luke Savage," she flung over her shoulder. "It happened. I'm grateful for your help, because if you hadn't been there back in Council Bluffs, I might be on my way back to Boston right now." Her eyes were just about spitting fire. Luke walked beside her for a few steps, thinking there had to something she wasn't telling him. "Hey, I believe you. I really do." He tried to smile reassuringly. "I just had a little trouble with it at first. I mean, I ain't heard of anything like that since the War. Not right out in broad daylight and all." Her pace slowed and she nodded without returning his smile. "I know. I wasn't expecting it either, or I'd have been on my guard. That's why I got caught unawares. I thought I was still in civilization." "All civilization means is that there's usually a policeman you can call. It doesn't mean the villains aren't about their work. Just that they ain't so visible." "I know. But I guess I'd forgotten." She shrugged. "Well, anyway, I got away.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Thanks to you." Her sudden smile was like sunshine after a hailstorm. "So now you know why I traded all my fancy clothes for these. You almost didn't recognize me. I'm hoping he wouldn't either." Luke nodded, knowing he'd recognize her in any getup. But he kept the thought to himself. The depot was still empty when they returned to it. According to the big clock on its wall, they still had a while before their train pulled out. Luke offered Katie his bedroll for a pillow. She accepted, giving him unexpected satisfaction. He dozed too, leaning against the bench on which she lay. It wasn't that he really believed her story of the reason behind her attempted kidnapping. On the other hand, a little prudence wouldn't hurt, just in case there was some truth to it. But he couldn't sleep. His mind gnawed on the possibility that the stranger who'd loaded his gelding on the stock car was related to Japhet Breedlove. Word was that the Breedloves were a fair-sized clan, come out of Kentucky before the War to ride with Bill Anderson's band. He'd only known Japhet and Hezekiah, who'd ridden for the Old Man season before last. They'd been paid off before the drive reached the Kansas line. Troublemakers. Maybe worse, though no one had been able to prove Hezekiah had raped and killed the woman in the burned-out homestead. Nobody believed Kiah had found her dead, for her blood hadn't dried when Luke, Mick and the Old Man arrived to investigate the fire. But they'd no proof, and none of them had a taste for hanging a man unless they knew he was guilty. Was it only coincidence that a man looking eerily like Japhet was headed towards Cheyenne? Or were the Breedloves gathering somewhere, to revenge Japhet's death? CHAPTER SIX Katie was thoughtful as the train pulled away from the station. They would be in Cheyenne sometime late tonight, Laramie early tomorrow morning. That was when she had to make a decision. She could get off in either Cheyenne or Laramie and take the stage to Salt Lake City. Or she could stay aboard and ride to the end of track--wherever that was this week. The train would be faster, by almost a day, and far more comfortable. Her memories of the trip East were still vivid, and she'd do almost anything to avoid another journey like that, careening across the countryside, unable to stretch her legs. More than likely crammed between two smelly, profane would-be miners. She laughed softly at how uppity she sounded, for a girl who'd not even seen a town until she was fifteen. Luke thumbed his hat back off his forehead. "What's so funny?" "I was remembering my journey East, and thinking how I'd changed in the past three years." "Three years? He...heck, you've changed in the past three days!" His look

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html took in her hair, her shabby coat. "The first time I saw you, I thought you were the prettiest lady I'd ever seen. All spiffed up in that fancy red coat, with your little fur hat sitting atop your curls." A small frisson of warmth climbed Katie's spine. "Where was that?" "The depot at Chicago. There you were, with all those other swells, looking good enough to eat. I wanted to go after you, to ask you if you were a real live girl." His mouth twisted in a half-smile. "I did follow you, until a porter stopped me." "Oh, Luke, that's...well, that's really sweet." Being the focus of masculine admiration was nothing new to Katie, but she'd rarely had it stated so artlessly, so sincerely. "I'm really glad I met you in Council Bluffs." "So am I." His voice caressed her, reminding Katie of the warmth of his lips, the hard strength of his hands, the smell of him, wood smoke and horse, and a wonderful, masculine odor that beguiled her senses. She decided to change the subject. "You seemed worried about something a while ago. Is it anything I can help with?" His dark eyes went opaque, as if a door had closed. "Nope. Just thinkin' about something that happened back in Kansas. Nothing important." "That man all dressed in black clothes? Does it have something to do with him?" "No...I don't think so, anyhow. He's a stranger to me." Laying a hand on his arm, Katie said, "Luke, if there's anything troubling you, tell me. You've helped me so much. Let me help you." He jerked his arm away. "Katie, there ain't anything you can do to help me. What troubles I've got are of my own making, and there's nobody can help me." "But-- " "Leave it be!" He turned his shoulder to her and leaned against the window. The little she could see of his mouth showed it a tight, straight line. His shoulders were hunched and his body so tense she could practically hear it thrum. Darkness caught them before they reached Cheyenne, the heavy, early dark of a cold, cloudy November night. Luke had stared out across the featureless land all afternoon, knowing if he didn't, Katie would try to talk to him. And he wasn't in the mood for talking, not even to her. He had to figure out the best thing to do, before they got to Cheyenne. If the Breedloves were following him, staying with Katie Lachlan would put her in danger, the very thing he'd been paid to prevent. Even if they weren't looking to avenge Japhet's death, they weren't a bunch he'd choose to have anywhere nearby. Soon as Kiah saw Katie, he'd be on her like bees on clover and she wouldn't have a chance. At least that fancy swell wanted to marry her. If Kiah Breedlove got his hands on her... Well, he wasn't going to let that happen. Listen to me! How many times have I sworn never to let anybody depend on me again? I knew I should have told Mick what he could do with this job! "Cheyenne! Ten minutes to Cheyenne! Supper stop!"

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Luke sat up. Beside him he felt Katie stir. Heard her yawn. She wiped a hand across her eyes and covered another yawn. There was a pink crease in her cheek where she'd rested it against her fiddle case. "I never thought to ask," she said. "How far are you riding the train?" Caught on the horns of a dilemma, Luke considered carefully what to say. He'd looked at a map, back in Chicago, but Laramie had been the only stop it showed past Cheyenne. Asking her how far she planned to stay on the train would be a good way to lose her trust. Then how would he stay close enough to keep an eye on her? "Laramie," he said making a wild guess. "To Laramie." He couldn't imagine she'd be taking the chance of getting stuck out in the middle of nowhere. From what the ticket agent back in Chicago had said, travel beyond Cheyenne was far safer and more dependable on the stage. "Oh." There was a wealth of disappointment in that one word. "I was hoping you were going on to the end of track." Well, hell!He did his best to look surprised. "You mean they'll let you?" "Luke, they'd sell you a ticket clear to California if you were to ask." Her chuckle invited him to share her amusement. "But a good bit of the way you'd be riding a stage. That's what I'll do when we run out of rails." "And you don't know where that'll be?" He shook his head. Most of the women he'd known wouldn't have come this far, not knowing what was ahead. He felt like he was taking her brother-in-law's money under false pretenses. Katie Lachlan needed a bodyguard like he needed a fancy, gold-headed cane. "Whereare you going? You never did say?" "Somewhere there's land. I figure to claim some land, try my hand at raising horses. Always wanted to, ever since I was just a tad. But I've been giving some serious thought to seeing what I can do with mules, too. The Army still buys 'em, and there's demand for them in the freight business." "Well, there's lots of good land ahead, that's for sure, especially in Idaho Territory." She re-knotted the scarf around her rolled-up quilt. "The Boise Valley is hard to beat for pasturage. There's some nice country over along the Payette, too." Her glance was swift, questioning. "And our winters are fairly mild." "I don't know anything about Idaho. Never heard it was much of anything but sagebrush and sand." The train lurched to a stop, the scream of brakes drowning her reply. But she'd given Luke something to think about, that was for sure. He wouldn't mind living where he could get to know Katie Lachlan a little better. *** Cheyenne was a meal stop, as well as a busy rail yard. "You can leave your gear at the depot," the conductor told them, "since your train won't be made up for a while yet. Nobody'll bother it there." Katie took her fiddle case with her anyway, and Luke carried his bedroll. As they left the train, she noticed a private car on the next track over. It sat at the end of a string of empty passenger cars, in place of a caboose. If it was

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html anything like the one she'd traveled from Boston to Chicago on, it had its own kitchen, perhaps its own chef. The food at meal stops was probably the worst thing about traveling. She was getting tired of beans and buffalo, undercooked potatoes, and coffee so strong it threatened to grow hair on even the most feminine chest. Three times a day. A cup of tea and Ma's buttermilk biscuits topped with chokecherry jelly sounded like heaven. The passenger and stock railcars stood alone on a track when Katie and Luke emerged from the dining hall. Moving lights showed activity up the track, where some of the freight cars were being uncoupled. "I ought to check my stock," Luke said. "I'll come along and say hello to Sheba." Salome started complaining as soon as they entered the stock car, and Lafayette added his two bits' worth. Katie went to Sheba's stall and scratched behind her ears as Luke replenished their grain and water. "You're spoiling her," Luke said, giving the donkey a swat on the rear. She switched her tail. "I'mspoiling her? Who's feeding his stock grain when there's perfectly good hay to be had?" She gestured toward the manger at the rear of the car. "Winter's coming. I want 'em to have plenty of fat stored up." "How much does the railroad charge you for the grain?" Katie hadn't ever thought about the logistics of shipping livestock. Did they feed cattle on their way to market, she wondered? She'd seen dozens of railcars full of cattle and hogs around Chicago, all bound for the great stockyards. "Too much," Luke told her, forking straw into the mule's stall, "so I bought my own, back in Omaha." Katie moved out of his way, going to offer a small handful of grain to a lovely sorrel gelding in the stall next to Lafayette. "Yes, you're a pretty one," she crooned, as the horse nuzzled her hand, seeking the last few morsels. "Let's go." Luke replaced the pitchfork against the outer wall. "I'd like to walk a spell before we reboard." Katie followed him with alacrity. They walked along the coupled passenger railcars, past the ornate private car and beyond, until the lights of the switchyard were far behind them. Luke was silent as they crunched through the cinders along the track, and Katie had nothing to say. Her mind was working furiously, though. Luke hadn't sounded dead set on getting off the train in Laramie. More like he'd been told it was the end of the line so that was where he'd stop. She'd felt a disturbing sense of loss when he'd said it, too. She wasn't ready to say goodbye. Not yet. Luke Savage was different from any man she'd met, and she wanted to learn what made him so. No matter how long it took. But how could she say so, without giving him a totally wrong impression? They walked far enough that the air smelled of rain and sage, instead of the coal smoke and hot oil she had gotten used to. When they turned, Katie could

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html see the lights of the rail yard and the town spread out for what looked like miles. "I wish it were light enough to see. There's something about all the hustle and bustle that's exciting." She remembered Cheyenne as a sleepy little stage station, with no pretensions toward town hood. It would certainly never be that again. There were lights in the private railcar. One of the railroad backers, no doubt. She'd bet they were out here keeping a close eye on their investment. They drew closer and Katie could see someone on the observation platform. A red spark waxed and waned, moving as the man standing there raised a cigar to his mouth, then lowered it. As she watched, someone opened the door behind him, casting light across his face. She stopped walking. She couldn't help herself. "Oh my God!" "What? What's the matter, Katie?" Luke asked, stopping beside her. "It's him!" she whispered, so softly he almost didn't hear her. For a moment she stood dead still, staring up at the man on the platform. Then she dodged back into the shadows between two boxcars. Luke didn't know what was going on, but he knew she was either mad as hell or scared to death. Maybe a little of both. "Let's get out of here," he said, pulling her back the way they'd come. She stumbled once, then trotted beside him. From behind them came the sound of low-pitched laughter. Katie went along with him until they crossed behind some boxcars and were out of sight of the private railcar. Then she set her feet and pulled him to a stop. "Let me go!" He held tightly to her wrist. "Why? You gonna go back there and shoot him?" "Yes! I mean...no. What makes you think I'd do a thing like that?" "Lady, you were either mad enough to blow a hole in that dude, or you were scared witless." Wrapping an arm around her waist, he forced her to walk beside him. "Whichever, it was time for you to walk away. You meet your enemy all hot under the collar, he's got the advantage." A lesson every soldier learned the hard way. Katie stayed close beside him, not speaking, but not releasing her vise-like grip on his arm. Luke became aware of something heavy and hard in her skirt, bumping his leg with each step. "You carrying a gun?" He meant it as a joke. Her hand darted down to touch the heavy object, slipped between the folds of her skirt. "I'd be stupid not to, traveling alone like I am." The strength of her voice stopped him in his tracks. Releasing his hold on her waist, Luke spun to face her. "Damn it, Katie, you really are!" Even in the dark, he could see the flash of silver as her hand came from her pocket. "I said I was." She held it out for his view. A one-shot derringer, ornately chased with silver. It nestled nicely in her small hand. "And I suppose it's loaded, too?" He couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice. Katie's frown showed in her voice. "Luke, I'd be a fool to carry an unloaded gun, now wouldn't I? That'd do me a whole lot of good." "People who carry guns are askin' to get shot," he said, resuming his walk. He let her decide whether to join him or not. Damn it all, anyhow!Luke ground his teeth. Here he'd been thinking what an

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html easy job he'd have, protecting the pretty little girl from the occasional ruffian and

ladies' man she might encounter. He hadn't entirely believed her story about the Boston swell. In his opinion, she must have given Whitney some reason to expect she'd welcome his attentions. So why was she so scared of him? Scared enough to be carrying a loaded gun for protection. What the dickens kind of crazy mess had he got himself into the middle of? *** The train that would take them west was still being made up when they arrived back at the station. They stood inside the depot, staring through the grimy window as the switch engine moved railcars forward and back, sometimes a fair distance, sometimes only a few feet. Katie shivered as an icy draft whistled under the poorly fitting door and tangled about her feet. Her mind worked furiously, but it was like a chipmunk on open ground trying to escape a hunting hawk--scurrying around and around without getting anywhere. The worst of her situation now was not knowing what to expect. Sheknew that had been Mr. Won't-Take-No-For-An-Answer Whitney on the observation platform, even though she hadn't seen him clearly. What was she going to do? The farther she traveled, the fewer people would be about. If she got off the train and took the stage, Whitney could catch up with her again at any station where the stage road crossed the railroad. There were many of those. Charles had shown her a map, tracing the route she and Ellen had followed on their way East. Remarking on how closely the final Union Pacific rail would follow that same route. Katie knew what her Pa would advise her. "Strike first. Don't wait for the other fellow to make his move, 'cause he might be meanin' to kill you." The call to board came. Their railcar was almost full now. Most of the other passengers were soldiers, bound for the forts along the railroad route or men on their way to End-of-Track, where workers were always needed. A family occupied the three seats closest to the pot-bellied stove at one end, and a man and woman who looked enough alike to be twins sat across the aisle. By the time Katie and

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Luke got aboard, the only seats left were at the far end. Once more Luke gave her the window seat. He slid his long legs into the aisle, rested his head against the hard wooden seat back, and tipped his hat down to cover his eyes. If he didn't wake with a crick in his neck, she'd be surprised. If only she could sleep like that! But to do so would mean that she wasn't thinking. And the thoughts would not go away. Luke's voice echoed in her mind.You gonna go back there and shoot him? She'd had her derringer in her hand. She could have gotten close enough to shoot him. And she'd been almost mad enough to do it. Howdared he pursue her like this! So far Whitney hadn't given any indication that he meant her harm. Even if he was to force her to go back to Boston with him, that wasn't a killing offense. She couldn't just shoot him down in cold blood. Even the thought of shooting to wound him sickened her. Maybe she wasn't scared enough yet. Another thing Pa had told her was that there wasn't anything better than pure hair-on-end fright to stiffen the backbone. He'd told of men fighting off grizzly bears with teeth and fingernails, or running a hundred miles barefoot and living to tell about it. "All because they were scared, Katie girl. Fear is a powerful force, and don't you ever forget it. Let yourself be good and scared, and you'll find strength you never knew you had." Somehow she just couldn't take a man who wore spats and pale gray kid gloves seriously enough to be truly scared of him. Or maybe it was Whitney's face, long and narrow--he really did look like a horse! If she was at home, she'd lay a trap for him. Catch him good. Tie him up and ship him back to Boston. Katie stifled a giggle at the mental picture of Hamilton Steens Whitney III with feet tied together like you would take a goose to market, arms waving, mouth working as he quacked and hissed to beat the band. Stop it, Katie Lachlan! This is no laughing matter! Encouraged all her life to be independent and self-reliant, Katie had never doubted her ability to handle any situation she found herself in. She'd learned to hunt and fish as a child, contributing her share to the family larder. She could plow as straight a furrow as her brothers' and could fell a tree exactly where she wanted it. At her mother's insistence, she'd also learned to sew a fine seam and cook up a storm. What she'd never learned to do was ask for help. And she had an awful feeling that she needed to. Bleary-eyed and aching, she still sat with her head against the window when they pulled into Laramie, six hours after leaving Cheyenne. Luke woke as the train slowed. He sat up and rubbed his face, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Yawned. Smoothed his mustache and resettled his broad- brimmed hat. "Laramie?" Katie nodded. "Luke?" He covered his mouth as another yawn took him. "Hmmm?" "Are you dead set on getting off in Laramie?"

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "No," he said. "I ain't what you'd call 'dead set.' Why?" "Well, I was wondering..." She looked at him from under her lashes. "Something you said..." One eyebrow rose and his mouth twitched. "Um-hmm?" Clenching her fists in her lap, Katie looked him straight in the eye. "I'll pay you a hundred dollars to see me safely to Salt Lake City." When he hesitated, she added, "In gold." CHAPTER SEVEN Well, hell! Luke looked outside at lights scattered like distant stars through the pre-dawn dark. The train was hardly moving. Even as he watched, ghostly lines of silent boxcars materialized out of the night. There wasn't a depot in sight. He spoke to the window, not to Katie. "You wouldn't have to pay me." "I know that. But a hundred dollars would cover boarding your animals while you see me to Salt Lake City and still give you a profit." Wishing he could tell her the truth, Luke decided to make sure that she knew what she'd be getting for her hundred dollars. Not that he intended to take it, but he couldn't even tell her that, not now. "Katie, I ain't the kind of fellow you'd want to guard you. He...heck, I don't even carry a gun."Not any more. "That's all right. I do." "That's right. You do." And it made her feel indestructible, too, didn't it? "You figure one bullet would stop Whitney and both of his bullyboys?" "It would slow them down!" "Which one of 'em?" "Oh, for heaven's sake, Luke, I wouldn't have to shoot anybody. Just make them think I would." She patted her pocket, the one weighted down by the derringer. "I'm not some helpless little ninny, asking you to protect poor little me. I need someone to watch my back, so his bullies can't sneak up behind me. If I see Mr. Boston-dude Whitney coming, he won't have a chance. Not now that I know what he's up to." "Damn it, Katie--" "Hey, you folks mind keeping it down?" a hoarse voice called from a few seats back. "Some of us are trying to sleep." Luke lowered his voice. "Maybe the best thing for you to do is find yourself a lawman. There's bound to be a sheriff or marshal in Laramie." He knew he'd never convince her that little derringer wasn't much better than a toy. "Oh, sure." Her glare just about scorched his hide. "And what am I going to tell him? That the swell in the private rail car- a millionaire, in all likelihood--is trying to kidnap a plain little nobody from Idaho?" She shook her head. "Wouldyou believe me?" Leaning forward, she put her face up close to his. "Doyou believe me? Really?" "Katie, I...ah...." The train jerked to a stop and she landed hard against him. Luke instinctively put his arms around her. How good she felt. Warm. Sweet-

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html smelling. He tightened his arms for just a moment, wishing their heavy wool coats weren't so bulky. Only a hint of her soft female shape lay against his chest. Pushing herself back upright, Katie said, "Hah! I knew it. You think I'm imagining things. That I'm making it all up." She shoved at his chest with both hands. "Well, let me tell--" "Lady, I don't care what you're telling him," a new voice called out, "but could you do it a little quieter? It's the middle of the goddam night!" "Sorry," Katie whispered. In a barely audible voice, she said, "Two hundred dollars. To Salt Lake City. That's a week, give or take a day. Pretty good wages." Damn good wages.Luke couldn't help but be tempted. Two hundred dollars--on top of what he was already being paid--could carry him through the winter, feed his stock and himself, keep roofs over all their heads, and leave him with his poker winnings to get started in the spring. "Gold?" he said. Shaking her head, Katie said, "A hundred in gold. The rest in banknotes." God! What was he doing? He couldn't take her money--not for doing what he was already paid to do. But he couldn't tell her that, either. What a damnable predicament. On the other hand, he'd been looking for a convincing excuse to stick as close to her as a bullsnake on a mouse's trail. One problem though. "You might not be the only one who's bein' followed. There's a good chance some kin of a fellow I...I fought, back in Kansas, are after me." "Bad men?" "Real bad men, Katie. They'd just as soon kill you as look at you." And in her case, they'd do a lot worse than kill her. "Then we'd both be better off if we teamed up. We can watch out for each other." Still Luke hesitated. He didn't want her thinking this was some kind of great adventure. Still he wouldn't mind having her alert and watching for trouble. "Well, it ain't as if I've got somewhere special to go." Her smile was enough to light up the railcar. "Fine! I'll pay you half in advance. The rest when we get to Salt Lake City." "Wait a minute, here," Luke said, holding his hands up, palms out. "Not so fast. I ain't said I'd do it." He rubbed his bristly chin, wishing he'd taken time to shave in Omaha. "I've got to consider my stock." No sense letting her think he'd taken the bait too easy. Occasional small jerks indicated that railcars were being coupled and uncoupled. The trains that went on past Laramie were primarily freights, with passenger cars added when needed for soldiers, laborers, and the occasional traveler. They ran on no set schedule, and made few stops other than those necessary to take on water and fuel. "Well?" Katie prodded. Seemed like he'd been taking care of somebody ever since he was a tyke himself. First his sister, then Pa, after Ma died. And in the Army...well, he'd been

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html real grateful when they'd sent him off to Washington with dispatches. After he'd been promoted at Antietam, he'd found the responsibility of leading a platoon almost more than he could handle. Every time one of his men was wounded or killed, he took it personal. As he should have. They'd been his to lead and protect. And all he'd done was lead 'em into Hell. Would he let Katie down the same way? No!He'd keep her safe, or die trying. The train came to a jerking stop. Outside Luke could see the dim outlines of a half-built structure. "Laramie!" cried the conductor, just his head inside the door from the vestibule. "Breakfast stop." Katie rolled her quilt. Luke picked up his bedroll and tapped his hat more securely on his head. Even inside, he could hear the whistle of the wind. "Luke?" "Yeah, I'll do it," he said, knowing that sooner or later he'd have to tell her the truth. She'd blame him, then, not her brother-in-law. Not Whitney, who was the cause of this whole crazy situation. Nope, she'd blame Luke Savage, who'd lied to her. The thought left a big hollow feeling in his gut. "I'll be taking my stock as far as I can, though." "Then you'd better buy extra feed. We need to shop, too. Charles--my brother-in-law--warned me that I'd need to carry food, since there aren't any more regular meal stops from here on. Not 'til we board the stage, anyhow." She picked up her fiddle case and led the way into the vestibule where the conductor handed her down the steps. Already regretting his rash decision, Luke paused. "Who do I talk to about taking my stock on to End-of-Track?" The conductor motioned toward the unfinished depot. "Talk to the agent." As they walked away, he called, "Your train'll be pullin' out about two this afternoon, but you'd best be back here earlier than that." Luke touched his hat brim in acknowledgement. They walked across the wooden platform toward the big shed-like building that served as a temporary depot. Inside a single oil lamp hardly lit the counter, let alone the far reaches of the cavernous room. Luke didn't see the man standing by the door until he spoke. "Good morning, Miss Lachlan. I trust your journey has been pleasant thus far." Katie stopped. "What do you want?" she said, her voice sharp. "Why are you following me?" "Why, I thought that was evident, my dear. We are meant for each other." "You're crazy!" "Don't you call me--" Whitney visibly controlled himself. "I become remarkably weary of your resistance, madam. Unless you come to your senses soon, I shall have to take extreme measures." Luke pulled Katie behind him. Stepping close enough to smell Whitney's bay rum, he said "Look here, mister. I don't reckon Miss Lachlan wants anything to do

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html with you. You just go on back there where you came from and leave her be." "You, sir, are impertinent. I am Hamilton Steens Whitney III, and I intend Miss Lachlan to be my bride. Do you understand?" "Yeah. I understand that you're gettin' a mite big for your fancy britches. This ain't Boston, mister, and what you want don't count for a hill of beans." He stepped back, looked Whitney up and down. "You leave Miss Lachlan alone from here on, or you and me will be locking horns." Behind him, he heard Katie gasp. He gave her a quick frowning look.Don't say it! he mouthed. Grabbing her hand, he stepped around Whitney and walked up to the makeshift counter where the Union Pacific agent stood. "I need space on a stock car for two asses and a mule to End-of-Track," he said, keeping his voice low. "Can you accommodate me?" "Luke, I didn't mean for you--" "Hush. You hired me to do a job. Let me do it my way." "But--" "Later, Katie. We've got things to do first." "Luke, will you listen?" "Not now." He glanced over his shoulder, saw that Whitney had gone. "I've got a little feed left," he said to the agent, "but I'll be wanting more. Where can I pick up a bag of oats? And will I be able to get water for my stock along the way, or do I have to pick up a barrel, too?" As soon as they were out on the platform, Katie grabbed his left arm and pulled him to a halt. "What did you think you were doing, facing Mr. Third-rate Whitney down like that? I hired you to watch my back, not to fight over me, doggone it!" Reining in his own anger, Luke said, "Seems to me it's better to stop trouble before it starts than to deal with it once it's under full steam." She appeared to think about that for a moment. But then she said, "And another thing. You stood right there and talked about going to End-of-Track so he could hear every word." "He knows where you're headed, doesn't he?" "Well, yes, but maybe he didn't know how I was to get there." Shrugging, Luke said, "I don't see that it matters. There's only two ways to get to Salt Lake City--by stage or on the train. I'd just as soon know where to watch for him." "Oh, for--" Katie's foot made a sharp thud on the wooden platform. "You argue just like my brother." He looked at her, wondering if she really saw him as some kind of kin. "Believe me, Katie, I ain't your brother."And when I see you safe to your pa, when I ain't responsible for you anymore, I'll show you just what I am. Katie continued to fume as they walked into town. Laramie--what there was of it-- reminded her of gold towns back home. It was raw, vital, rough around the edges. New construction was everywhere. A grand hotel was half-built, one which would have bedrooms. A storekeeper told them that there were presently no sleeping accommodations for travelers in Laramie City except railcars set up

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html with bunks. "But that hotel bein' built will be as fine as anything in Denver," he boasted. After arranging for their provisions to be delivered to the depot, Katie and Luke entered one of the several tents that advertised meals. It was furnished with rough, dirty wooden tables and benches, with a bed and some chests in one corner. Apparently the proprietor and his family lived right there. "I grew up in the wilderness," Katie told Luke quietly, after they'd seated themselves, "but we never lived like this. It's awful!" "We got beans and bacon, beans and buffalo, beans and cornbread, and beans and tortillas. What'll it be?" the bewhiskered waiter said, leaning across Katie to wipe at spilled food on the splintered table surface. They gave their orders and he left after pouring them each a mug of steaming, fragrant coffee. "You don't look like you even know what wilderness is, let alone ever lived there," Luke observed, looking her up and down. She shivered as if his hand, instead of his gaze, had stroked down her body.Stop it, girl! Keep your mind on what you're saying. "There were only two cabins in Cherry Vale--ours and my godparents'. We were about fifty miles from the nearest trading post--and they were hard miles. Once in a while somebody would wander in, but mostly the only folks we saw from year to year were my godmother's Nez Perce kin." "Your godmother's an Indian?" Katie nodded, wondering what Luke would say if she told him about the rest of her unusual family. "I wasn't quite fourteen when we moved to Boise City. I'd never seen so many people in one place in my life." Shaking her head, she chuckled. "Then Ma took me back East to school right after the War ended." She lifted her cup, swallowed the lump in her throat along with the coffee. "I haven't been home in more than three years." Swallowing again, she set the cup down again and smiled. "I'll bet you're not a city boy either." "My pa was one of the first settlers on Butternut Creek," Luke told her. "We lived in a soddy, like a lot of Kansans did, but Ma fixed it up real nice. We even had a cloth ceiling, so the bugs wouldn't fall on us." He looked around the big tent, shaking his head. "Compared to this, we lived pretty well. The soddy was right cozy, except when a big rain hit. Then it would drip some." Katie smiled. "My mother tells of times before they had a wood floor in the cabin. When the spring thaws hit, sometimes water would come in under the door. But that was before I was old enough to remember." She looked around the tent again, seeing the woman half hidden in the corner. She had no privacy while she nursed her babe, nor did her older children have any place to play except among the tables. "Compared to this, we lived in a palace." Luke nodded. "Us, too. At least until the Bushwhackers started raiding across the border. They burned our barn early on." His eyes grew dark and his face hard. "Murderin' bastards!" "Luke--" Reaching across the table, Katie laid a hand on his wrist, feeling its rigidity.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html He pulled free. "Never mind. What's done is done." But his eyes still seemed to look into a dark, bloody past. "Sometimes it helps to talk about things." "Not this. Let it be, Katie." He visibly took charge of his emotions. "You said your Pa was meeting you in Salt Lake City? Is he expecting you any particular time?" "In my last letter I told him to look for me sometime between the fifteenth and the twentieth of November." "Then we've got a little over a week before he starts wondering where you are." The food arrived, so she didn't tell him that Pa wasn't likely to worry unless she was a couple of weeks late. He knew how uncertain travel from Boston could be. They spoke little while they took the edges off their appetites. For a change the beans were thoroughly cooked, and were well flavored. The cornbread tasted so much like her mother's that Katie felt a sudden pang of homesickness. "What are you going to do if Whitney follows you to Salt Lake City?" Luke said after he'd finished his second helping of beans. "Will you tell your pa what he tried in Council Bluffs?" "Tell Pa?" She smiled tightly. "Only if I want Whitney killed." *** Black smoke pouring from their stacks in great billows two puffing engines pulled the train out of the Laramie yards. With any luck, Luke and Katie would reach End-of-Track in two or three days, depending on conditions. Luke had heard that the closer they got to the end of the line, the worse shape the rail bed was. The private car had been left behind on a siding in Laramie. Luke hadn't seen Whitney since he left the depot, knew he hadn't boarded either of the two passenger cars. Maybe he'd taken Luke's warning seriously. And if he had, then Luke was about as useful to Katie as teats were to a boar hog. "Weather's getting worse," Katie said, her voice almost too soft for him to hear. She'd been staring out the window ever since they'd settled into their seats. He peered past her, seeing streaks of rain on the mud-spattered glass. Sure enough, the clouds looked lower and heavier. "It's almost cold enough to snow," he said. "Sure hope the Union Pacific keeps their plows handy." He'd seen stuck trains more than once, after they'd tried to bull their way through windblown drifts. Get an engine far enough into a snowdrift and it couldn't back out any better than it could go forward. "Even if it does snow tonight, I'm sure it'll change to rain in the morning. We don't usually get snow this early." Remembering a hellacious Norther in Texas that had hit in late October one year, Luke said, "You can't ever tell about weather. I hope you're right." "So do I." Katie turned in her seat so she faced him. "Luke, I really do

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html appreciate what you did for me back there in Laramie. But, if we meet him again, well, let me handle him, will you?" "Handle him? Tarnation, woman! Haven't you already admitted you can't 'handle him'?" "Of all the--What makes you say that?" "You hired me, didn't you? That sounds to me like an admission of defeat." "Mister Savage," she said, leaning toward him and poking one finger into his breastbone, "let's get one thing perfectly clear. I hired you to make sure nobody came up on my blind side while I'm dealing with Mr. Slime-on-a-Rock Whitney. You handle his lackeys. I'll take care of him." He batted her hand aside. "Yeah? You and what army?" "I don't need an army. I've got what I need right here." She patted her fiddle case. "And next time I see him, I'll be ready for him." "Yeah?" he said again. "Like you were this morning?" Luke deliberately made his bark of laughter harsh and derisive. "Sweetheart, if he'd been a snake, he'd have bit you twice before you even saw him. Why if I hadn't been there, he would have..." "We were right out in public, Luke. He wouldn't have dared try anything." "Oh?" Luke grasped her shoulders and pulled her toward him. "Well, we ain't exactly private here." As he took her mouth, he couldn't decide whether he was doing this to teach her a lesson or to please himself. He teased her lips apart and flicked his tongue along her teeth. Katie stiffened in his arms. "Open for me, sweetheart," he murmured, without lifting his mouth from hers. She did, and Luke tasted sweetness such as he'd never tasted before. Gradually, as he drank his fill of her, she softened, until he felt more than heard a soft exhalation of surrender. Her hands crept inside his heavy coat and circled his waist. Groaning, Luke pulled his mouth free of her honeyed snare and nibbled his way across her jaw. He found the icy lobe of her ear and took it gently between his teeth. Her fingers dug into his back as she strained even closer. "Luke?" A breathless gasp. "You like this? Oh, God, Katie, let me..." With clumsy fingers he unbuttoned her coat, seeking the warmth, the softness he knew was within. "Let me touch you.Oh, yes! " His fingers found her breast, already crowned with a blossom of desire. Again he found her mouth with his and kissed her deeply, hungrily. Until loud laughter from the other end of the railcar woke him to what he was doing, where he was. With every ounce of will power he had, Luke eased her away. The taste of her lingered on his tongue, the lilac scent of her filled his nostrils. Her eyes, heavy-lidded, slumberous with desire, looked into his. For a moment, Luke remembered being young and innocent, remembered believing in love and peace on earth. Then he reminded himself how he'd lost that innocence--at Antietam and Corinth and a hundred other battlefields. Youth and innocence didn't survive. But

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html strength and suspicion did. "We ain't exactly private here," he repeated. "Yet I could have had you and likely nobody would have even noticed." And hated himself when her eyes widened in shock, took on the same expression he'd seen in the eyes of too many wounded comrades. CHAPTER EIGHT Once she'd figured out what Luke had been up to, Katie wanted to kill him. Chop him up and feed him to the bears. Gut him and use him for fish bait. Whatever. Hewas just like her brothers, darn him! And she'd dug in her heels just like she always did when one of them tried to tell her what to do. Except she'd never felt this way about her brothers. Peeking at him from the corners of her eyes, she decided he wasn't gloating about being right. How she detested being in the wrong, then having her nose rubbed in her mistake. She knew he wasn't sleeping though--she could almosthear him thinking. When he finally came up for air at one of the water stops, he stood, said, "Back soon," and strode to the back of the railcar. They had stopped again to take on water before he returned, and when he did, he smelled of cold and hay and horse. Katie assumed he'd spent the time with his stock. She hoped Salome bit him. Shortly after the conductor passed through lighting the lamps, Luke walked the length of the car and into the vestibule. When he came back he said, "Cold out there! I smelled snow, somewhere far off. Sure hope we ain't headed right into it." "It won't snow," Katie told him, although to herself she admitted she wasn't any too certain. Those clouds had been low and full. And itwas cold--too cold for rain. She shivered. This time it had nothing to do with Luke. The train stopped several more times to take on coal, to take on water, to let off passengers. Katie didn't see anyone board. She supposed there weren't many folks traveling west from here by train. Unless you wanted to go somewhere along the Union Pacific route, the stage was more convenient. They pulled into Medicine Bow, just after six. "Do you know if we'll be here long enough for me to go for a walk?" Katie said, once the train had stopped. "Half an hour or so, but it doesn't look like there's anywhere much to go." He dug into an inside pocket, pulled out a small book. "I'd take it kindly if you'd stay here, keep an eye on things. I need to send a telegram." Walking would have been a relief. Her bottom was tired of the hard bench, her body tired of sitting up to sleep. But he was right. Where would she go in the dark in a strange place? She handed one of the canteens to him. "See if you can find some water. I want to keep these full." Just as he was about to turn away, she said, "Luke, you were right." He smiled down at her, his almost-dimples showing as deep crevasses in the shadowy light. "He...heck, Katie, it doesn't matter who's right or who's

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html wrong. The idea is to get you to your Pa in one piece." "I know. That's what I keep forgetting. It's just that, well, I'm so used to taking care of myself." "So am I, sweetheart. Don't be surprised if you have to remind me that we're partners." He touched his hat brim and turned away. Katie watched him walk up the aisle. Pa had always said you could tell a lot about a man by watching how he handled himself. If that was true, Luke Savage was brave and strong and decent. He was also just about the most attractive man she'd ever met. Was she the same young woman whose heart had been impervious to the cream of Boston's masculine crop? Feeling lonely when he'd been gone ten minutes? If she wasn't careful, she'd find herself falling in love with him. And that would never do. He'd already made it perfectly clear he had dreams of his own, and they didn't match hers. She wanted a family like the one she'd grown up in. Luke seemed afraid to risk his heart again. He'd lost so much.... Sighing, Katie leaned against the window, staring out across the small platform. A lantern cast a wavering circle of light at one corner of the small depot. Otherwise, it was too dark to see details. After Luke rounded the corner, the area was completely deserted--definitely not a good place for an evening stroll, she admitted. A figure moved across in front of the lighted circle. A tall man, clad in an overcoat and carrying a cane. His hat was more in the style of the cities than of the West, with narrow brim and rounded crown. He paused, facing the train, head turning slowly as he seemed to look into each window. Instinctively Katie moved back, turning her face away, lowering her chin. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him. His face was in shadow, yet something about him was familiar. She moved farther from the window, still watching. His gaze seemed to fasten on her window. Then he stepped forward, removed his hat and bowed slightly in her direction. Whitney! "Oh, my God!" Grabbing her fiddle case, Katie scrambled from her seat and dashed to the women's necessary at the end of the car. She knew from experience that its door did not lock, so she wedged her back against it. Her hands shaking, she clawed at the catches on her fiddle case. They released suddenly and it fell open, its contents tumbling out. "Darn it!" She slid to the floor, back still against the door. Hastily she stuffed what she could reach back into the case, until she found the hard leather case containing her ammunition. I am not scared, she told herself as, with still-trembling fingers, she loaded the second derringer and slipped it into a coat pocket. Then she checked the load of the first.There's nothing to be frightened of. Nothing! Her knife was securely strapped to her calf, but she still wished she dared carry it openly. Should she...? No, this would be enough. If she couldn't defend herself with two pistols and a knife, she might as well give up and go back to Boston with Mr. Bloodhound Whitney. How had he gotten here? They had made good time from Laramie, considering the condition of the roadbed. No trains had passed them while they were taking on

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html water or coal. Don't be an idiot, she told herself.There's a perfectly simple explanation. She didn't want an explanation. She wanted him somewhere far away. *** Luke frowned when he saw their seat empty of everything but his gear and Katie's quilt. He set the canteen down and looked around the railcar. She wasn't anywhere to be seen. "You see where the lady went?" he asked the two soldiers sitting one seat back. "Nope," one said, yawning mightily. "I been asleep." The other hooked a thumb toward the front of the railcar. "She took out of here like the dogs was after her. Went that way." Luke went that way too. But she wasn't in the vestibule, nor was she in the next car forward. Worried now, he headed for the stock car. Perhaps she'd decided to check on his animals. But she wasn't there either. As he stood in the half-open doorway of the stock car, he was thrown sideways by a sudden jerk. Another engine had been attached to replace the one they'd left at the top of the last grade. They'd be leaving as soon as it had a good head of steam. "Shit!" He leapt from the stockcar and ran back. Swinging aboard, he shouldered through the door to the railcar. "Katie," he yelled, pounding on the door to the

women's necessary. "Damn it, Katie, are you in there?" Every head in the car turned toward him, every face registered shock. He shoved against the door. It resisted, but like it was being held shut, not like it was locked. "Katie?" "I'm here, Luke." Her voice sounded trembly, almost as if she were crying. Well, hell! *** "Well, I couldn't just sit there," Katie said, hoping to erase the dark scowl on Luke's face. Deliberately she kept her back to the window, even though they were so far from town that its few lights had disappeared in the swirling snow. "Did he see you?" "He must have. He bowed to me." Her hands no longer shook, but her belly felt hollow. "Luke, I'm no coward." "No," he said slowly. "No, I wouldn't call you a coward. Foolhardy, maybe." "Why you--" Too late she saw the slight twitch of his lips. "Seriously, Luke,

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html he scares me. The way he keeps appearing. It's as if nothing I say to him makes any difference." She shuddered. "I might as well be a doll in a store window, for all my feelings matter." Luke took her hand, held it between both of his. His finger smoothed across her knuckles, sending tiny shivers up her arm. "Are you sure it was him?" "Yes!" She bit her lip. "Well, not absolutely positive. It was dark, and I only had a glimpse--" "Maybe you've been fretting about him so much you expected to see his face, so you did." Turning her hand over, he stroked lightly across her palm. Warmth spread to wrist, to elbow. Katie tugged, but her hand was firmly held. The fingers kept stroking, circling, lightly. Oh, so lightly! Everywhere they touched, she burned. "Luke!" "We'll stay together from now on," he told her. "That way, if he really is still following us, he won't think you're his for the taking." His words made her shiver again, but for far different reasons. The prospect of Hamilton Steens Whitney III laying his hands on her, of his touching her as Luke was right now, sickened her. Katie's pride told her to remind Luke that she'd been taking care of herself for a number of years now, that her parents had raised her to depend on no one. Her common sense said that maybe she wasn't a match for Mr. Crazy-as-a-hoot- owl Whitney after all, no matter how many derringers and knives she carried. If that really had been him on the platform, then he was serious threat. He wasn't acting like a reasonable person at all. Hewas crazy. And unpredictable. So her fear might be justified, no matter how ashamed of it she was. "All right, Luke," she said. "I'll stick to you like a cocklebur until we get to Salt Lake City." His grin was wide and cocky. "This could get to be real interesting." *** There was a stove in the back end of the railcar, and there was even fuel for it. Several of the passengers took turns stoking it, for the night grew bitterly cold. Ice drew its delicate traceries across the windows and the shallow breaths of sleepers hovered in clouds about their faces. After the soldiers got off at Fort Fred Steele near midnight, the remaining passengers clustered into the seats nearest the stove, for all the good it did them. Its heat quickly dissipated in the drafty, high-ceilinged railcar. "You got any shawls or scarves in that case of yours?" Luke asked Katie as they were settling their gear about them. "A couple. Just a minute." She pulled the case onto her lap and delved inside. Luke noticed that she was careful to keep the lid between his eyes and its contents. In a moment a bright, flowered scarf emerged. She fussed some more, then pulled out a shawl, soft wool, with fringe, which she gave to him. "Hand me the cheese, will you? I need to wedge it in with these things so they

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html won't shift." Luke bit his tongue. He'd be damned if he'd ask her again what she had in there. "Want the jerky too?" "Yes, please." She tucked it in, pulled out still another shawl, this one bright red and silky. "There, that should hold it." After she'd closed the fiddle case, Luke set it and his saddlebags firmly along the end of their seat. He wished he dared open his bedroll, but there were too many curious eyes about. He buttoned his coat over the blue shawl and settled himself back against the saddlebags. "Come here," he said, holding his arms out for Katie. To his surprise, she came into his arms without protest. Tucking her feet up under her skirt, she spread the quilt across herself and him, tucking it in around them. "We used to sleep in heaps in the winter," she murmured, "all of us kids." "In heaps?" His lips brushed her temple as he spoke. He felt her shiver. "That's what Ma called it. We'd all pile into Ellen's bed--she's my older sister-- with our blankets. It was the best way to stay warm, and Ellen always told the most exciting stories." "Fairy tales?" "Oh, no. Ellen's stories were always about daring, gallant heroes who saved beautiful princesses from unspeakable dangers. Then they carried them off and married them." She yawned. "Just thinking about them makes me feel sleepy. I could never stay awake long enough to hear the endings." "Is that what you want, Katie? To be saved by a daring, gallant knight and carried off to his castle?" His younger sister had loved those sorts of stories, too. But Quantrill's raiders had made sure she'd never meet her gallant knight. Katie reared up until his arm across her middle stopped her. "Not on your life. All Ellen ever wanted was to live happily ever after." Her snort wasn't even ladylike. "Not me. I don't need to be saved from any hungry dragons." Luke bit his tongue. It wouldn't hurt to let her believe that. But he wouldn't give a wooden nickel for her chances of getting away from Whitney without help. Yawning again, she pulled the flowered scarf more firmly around her face. "I swear it's colder than it was in Medicine Bow." She reached up and back, to pull at the blue shawl where it stuck out from under his coat. "This'd do you a sight more good if you'd tie it around your head, under your hat. Didn't your mother ever tell you the best way to keep your whole self warm is to keep your head warm?" Chuckling, Luke obeyed. "She sure did." Replacing his hat, he leaned back again and put his arms around Katie's waist. Even through the heavy coat he could feel the heat of her. He tried to relax. As if a man could relax with his arms full of soft, sweet woman. They slept, then. Or at least he figured she had, for she'd lain still in his arms. He woke once when the train took on water, stayed awake long enough to

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html watch an enormous windmill slide by the window. They'd left the snowstorm behind. The clouds still blocked any glimpses of the night sky and the wind still howled beside the train, carrying the fallen snow before it, piling it up in arcuate drifts around every bunchgrass and sagebrush, filling the depressions and scouring the hillocks. The engineer seemed intent on making up time, for the railcar swayed and rattled as they sped along. Luke scraped more of the ice from the window with his free hand. Snowdrifts defined the surface of the land, showing it to be almost as flat as the Texas plains he'd driven cattle across. He'd expected mountains in Wyoming, but so far all he'd seen were dry and barren hills. After the Ozarks and the Appalachians, the Rocky Mountains were proving to be a great disappointment. The rocking grew wilder and the noise of the wheels louder. Was the engineer crazy? Scarcely had the thought emerged when Luke and Katie were thrown hard against the back of the seat ahead. As brakes screamed, he fought his way clear of the quilt and Katie's flailing arms. She was atop him and they were both on the floor, thoroughly wedged between the seats. "What?" Her head emerged from under the quilt "Luke! What happened?" Her knee was tight against his groin. Under other circumstances he would have been delighted. "Sit still!" She reared up. He gasped. "Damn it, Katie! Hold still!" Grabbing her arm, he pulled her upper body tight against his. "Just sit tight a minute and let me get my breath." She relaxed against him. They were face to face, their lips only inches apart. Luke moved his hand up her arm, once more damning the weight of the heavy Union Army coat she wore. He slipped his fingers inside the collar. "Your fingers are like ice," she whispered. He jerked his hand back. "Sorry." "Don't be. I liked it." She caught at his hand, pulled it back to cup her cheek. "May I move now?" Knowing that the instant she did, she would feel the strength of his arousal, he said, "Not yet." He tried to distract himself by thinking of the choking dust at the tail of a herd, the terrifying roar of an oncoming tornado, but neither helped. He wanted her. A draft of bitterly cold air swept across his legs just as the conductor called, "Everybody all right in here?" Katie wormed her way backwards, her every move sweet torture. The pressure on his groin eased, only to be replaced by her full weight as she slid her body across his. It seemed an eternity to Luke before she backed into the aisle and rose to her feet. Then she leaned over, offered her hand. Luke stared at it, fighting the sharp knife of desire that whittled at his vitals. He took a deep breath, and then another.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html The conductor stood in the door at the front of the railcar. "Folks, we'll have a little delay," he announced. "We've got a bad section of track along here. There's already been one derailment, and they're working to relay the tracks so we can go on. We'll be stopped an hour or two." A passenger said, "Any chance of getting more firewood in here? We're damn near froze." Katie leaned over Luke. "Are you all right?" He nodded. "Give me a hand. I seem to be stuck." "Are you hurt? You looked like you were in pain." Her face held innocent concern. Had she really been unaware of where her knee had been, how she had dragged her soft body over his? Once on his feet, Luke saw her more clearly. Her cheeks were rosy, far more so than the cold should make them. She wouldn't look into his eyes, either. "Yeah," he said, under his breath, "I was in pain, all right. Prime, glorious pain." The quick flash as she lowered her eyes told him what he'd guessed. She knew damn good and well what she'd done to him. CHAPTER NINE "Nice." Luke's grin brought even more heat to Katie's face, if that was possible. She couldn't believe she'd really done that--crawled all over his body like a...well, just like the injured 'coon Ma had nursed once. Bandit had liked to be warm. He'd climb all over a person, seeking the warmest place to be. And that usually had been an armpit or under her skirt. Katie had taken to wearing trousers whenever the 'coon was inside the cabin. Somehow she didn't think that would slow Luke down, not if he took a mind to get under her skirts. The realization that she might be tempted to let him brought more hot blood to her cheeks. "Well, don't blame me!" she snapped. "I got off you as fast as I could." "Sure you did." His fingers moved along her neckline, just barely touching the base of her throat where a pulse hammered. At her immediate retreat, he said, "Just fixin' your collar. It was all stood up." "I'll take care of my own clothes." She bent over and tugged her fiddle case loose from the tangle of gear between the seats. It was unharmed. "Hold this, please." In a few moments Katie had straightened out the mess, gathering the scattered canteens, replacing the packet of dried apples in the gunnysack, and retying the thong closing the stiff rawhide container of portable soup. She took her fiddle case back from Luke and scooted over against the window, setting her feet on his bedroll. All the while she didn't say a word, not quite knowing what to say. How does a body admit to being a fool? "You can sit down now," she said, her voice a tad rough. "I doubt this stuff will pack any closer together." She hadn't realized how little room for Luke's feet there had been, what with his belongings and hers. No wonder he'd sat

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html sideways. "You're embarrassed, aren't you?" Luke's voice was low enough that it couldn't be heard in the next seat forward. "Don't be." "I wouldn't be if you hadn't said anything." "I didn't say anything!" he objected, holding his hands up, palm out. "Just that it was nice you didn't get hurt." "Oh! You...you...! You're as bad as my brothers." There was sudden steel in his voice. "Sweetheart, I keep tellin' you. I ain't your brother. I ain't anything like your brother." Her attention caught, Katie stared into his eyes. There was strength there, and suffering, and perhaps a little laughter. Something else, too. Something hot and hungry, that quickly hid itself behind lowered lids. "Well, sometimes you act just like them, especially when you tease me." "And sometimes I don't. Just remember that, Katie. Sometimes I don't act like your brother." It sounded almost like a warning. Sniffing, she turned her shoulder to him and clutched her quilt around her. Outside she could see lanterns and torches moving about, could occasionally hear a far-off shout. Mostly what she saw was the bottom side of tipped-over railcars, their iron-wheeled trucks hanging uselessly in the icy wind. With a shudder, she closed her eyes, not wanting to think of what would happen if their train derailed. Especially if it happened on one of the long, high trestles like they had crossed between Cheyenne and Laramie. She'd been grateful it was night when they made the Dale Creek crossing--nine hundred feet of spindly iron bridge holding up who knew how many tons of train and cargo. Even the short bridges frightened her, for her imagination drew graphic pictures of what would happen if the train jumped its tracks. Last winter in Boston there had been a really terrible train wreck, killing dozens. Almost weekly while she'd been in the East she'd read newspaper accounts of exploding boilers, jumped tracks and washouts. Katie squeezed her eyes shut, told herself to go to sleep. But it wasn't until Luke's arm pulled her tight against his warm chest that she truly slept. At last the train moved again. Luke couldn't reach his pocket watch, but he didn't much care anyhow. The dark and the cold told him all he needed to know. Morning would come, eventually, and Katie would wake. Wake and pull herself from his arms. If he had his druthers, that wouldn't be for a long time. He didn't know what had gotten into him--the man who'd failed everyone who'd ever relied on him--taking on responsibility for Katie's safety. His sister, his pa, and his mates in the Army had all suffered because Luke Savage wasn't man enough to keep them from harm. Now Katie was depending on him to protect her. If he was a real man, he'd tell her the truth. That he didn't carry a gun because he didn't think he could ever look down a barrel at another human being again without turning yellow. Hell! She was a better man than him. That little derringer she carried--she was

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html prepared to use it. He'd seen that in her eyes. Katie Lachlan wouldn't let Whitney catch her again. Not unmarked, at least. Luke cursed under his breath. That lady's gun she carried held one cartridge. Something like a .45 caliber. Big enough it ought to stop a man, if she could hit him. But Luke had seen men struck by minie balls who'd kept fighting, men bloody from shrapnel who'd refused to give up. If Whitney was as crazy as he seemed, who was to say that he'd even notice being shot, lest it hit him somewhere vital? If it didn't, what would Luke do? Trip him? And while he was doing that, what would the swell's henchmen be doing? Luke's fingers curled reflexively around a gun butt that was laying along a track somewhere back in Kansas. He forced them straight again, moved his hand up to stroke lightly across the untidy braids circling Katie's head where it rested against his shoulder. "I'll keep you safe," he vowed. If only he knew how. *** While their train was being remade in the Rawlins yards morning came, gray and windy. The conductor had suggested that no one get off, since they would be away as soon as possible to make up for the three hour delay. He did send a couple of roustabouts in with more fuel for the inadequate stove. Katie had been awake for some time, but had not moved from her position against Luke's shoulder. He was warm, and his arm around her felt so comforting. As if she was safely at home, in Idaho. When the conductor made his announcement, she yawned and sat up, rubbing her eyes. "I guess that means no coffee this morning." "Oh, I reckon we can contrive," Luke said, smiling down at her. He raised his voice. "Anybody got a stewpot?" One of the other passengers had a small saucepan that sat unsteadily on the top of the stove. Katie filled it from one of their canteens while Luke attempted to roast coffee beans. He held a poker inside the belly of the stove, dangling a tin cup from its hook. Soon all the passengers were joining in the communal breakfast preparations. They huddled as close to the stove as they could, joking, holding each other up as the railcar jerked with each new coupling. The only other woman present, a Mrs. Frenkel, contributed cold cornpone. "It's a little squashed, but I don't reckon that'll hurt the taste none," she opined. "Here's some bacon," a tall man in buckskin offered. "Don't reckon we can cook it much, but it's better'n none atall." "My Ma used to tell of how they ate bacon raw, on the way West," Katie said. "She said it beat rattlesnake all hollow." "Folks in Kansas ate grasshoppers one year," Luke said, grimacing. "There wasn't anything else, once the 'hoppers got through stripping every green, growing thing."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html The smell of scorched coffee beans filled the railcar as Luke pulled the cup from the stove. He poured them onto a plate someone held out, refilled the cup. "I recall when we'd have given a month's pay for coffee smelling that good," a young man in a Union Army coat much like Katie's remarked, sniffing. "Mostly what we got was roasted dandelion root, or worse." "Me too," Luke agreed, shaking the cup so the beans wouldn't stick. "That's when you had a month's pay to give." "Amen, brother." He grinned at Luke. "I was in the Third Indiana Volunteers. What was your outfit?" "Started out in the Kansas Militia," Luke began. "Damnation!" He jerked the cup from the stove, dumped its smoking contents on the plate Katie held. "A body's going to have to be mighty thirsty to drink that," he said, frowning. "Oh, pooh," Katie told him, shaking the plate. "Once we get them all ground, you'll never notice." She gave one last shake. "I think one more cup will about do it." The young ex-soldier, who'd told her to call him Eldred, took the plate from Katie and set it on the floor. With the handle of his sidearm, he started pounding the hot beans, cracking them into a fairly fine meal. By the time Luke and the buckskin-clad man had managed to heat the bacon-nobody could call it cooked, but at least it was warm--Katie and Eldred were serving coffee. Each of them only got a few swallows of the hot, bitter beverage. Just enough, as Luke said, shuddering at his first taste, to put some iron in his backbone. Their route led uphill again from Rawlins. They would make a long, slow climb up to the continental divide, then descend just as slowly to Rock Springs and Green River. From there it was only a day's travel to the end of track. "Snowin' again," Mrs. Frenkel observed from the seat across the aisle. "Pretty heavy." "How can you tell?" Katie wondered aloud. "The wind's blowing so hard it's all going sideways. Maybe that's just what was on the ground." The older woman shook her head. "Child, I've been in Wyoming for nigh on to ten year, now. I know snow when I see it, and I'm tellin' you, this is snow." "You've lived here? Where?" "Up north of Point of Rocks. Me and my man, we got us a little timber, a few head of cattle." Peering through the dirty glass beside her, she said, "This looks like it's settlin' in to stay awhile. It's pilin' up, too, instead of driftin'. Sure hope we get through Bitter Creek." Luke came to sit beside Katie. "Is that a bad stretch?" "Ain't it, though! Them Union Pacific surveyors, they thought they could save 'em some track, so they cut right through the ridges along there, instead of goin' around. My man, he says the first good snowstorm will pack ever' one of them cuts solid and no locomotive's goin' to push its way through. No matter how much coal they pile on." Katie crossed her fingers, hoping Mrs. Frenkel was exaggerating. Besides, hadn't she read of the enormous snowplows the railroad used? Or was that the Central Pacific, out in California?

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html The snow continued to fall as they topped the divide and started winding their way down again. When they reached the valley of Bitter Creek, Katie saw what Mrs. Frenkel had meant. In each of the many cuts, snow was piled on the tracks in tall drifts. Their engines slowed each time they encountered one, but the train never stopped except at the watering stations, marked by enormous windmills and gigantic water tanks, or at the occasional flag stop. Mrs. Frenkel got off at Point of Rocks, admonishing the remaining passengers, "Lay over at Rock Springs or Green River until the weather clears. We're goin' to have a real blizzard, you mark my words." They rolled into Rock Springs about five that afternoon. "Supper stop," the conductor announced, surprising them all. "I thought there weren't any on this section," Luke said, as the trainman passed. "There's not. But I telegraphed ahead, told 'em I had a dozen hungry passengers who'd been real nice about the delay back at Walcott. You'll eat in the crew tent." "Hallelujah," Eldred said. Katie had to smile in agreement. Three swallows of scorched coffee, a bite of half-cooked bacon and a handful of dried fruit hadn't been enough to fuel her body, given how cold it was inside the railcar. *** Luke kept hold of Katie's hand as they picked their way through the piles of lumber alongside the tracks at Rock Springs. For some reason he didn't want her out of reach. They followed the conductor between the depot and more lumber, a dimly-lit route that required constant attention lest they trip over scraps of wood and other debris. At last they reached the crew tent, a great expanse of canvas guyed against the constant wind by dozens of heavy lines to steel stakes driven deeply into the frozen soil. The food was meant for men who labored hard from dawn to dark. Beans and bacon, of course, plus cornbread, biscuits, boiled potatoes, gravy, buffalo steaks, and canned peaches. Two aproned old men refilled coffee cups almost as soon as they were empty. Luke cleaned his plate twice, wondering when he'd get hot food again. To his amusement, Katie also took seconds, although less than he had. "Where do you put it all?" he wondered, looking at her small stature and slender body. "Believe me, I don't eat like this all the time. Just when I don't know where my next meal's coming from." "What about all that food you insisted we buy?" "That's for emergencies. Besides, can you honestly tell me you'd rather eat cold cheese and chew on jerky instead of this." The spoonful of peaches she'd gestured with went into her mouth. Her eyes closed and a smile spread across her face. "Yummm!" "I wasn't complaining. We're not to Salt Lake City yet, and I didn't like the looks of that sky at sundown." "I didn't either. Back home we'd be bringing in the livestock about now."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "Speaking of--" Luke stood, held out his hand for her. "I want to check mine." Snagging one last peach from her plate, Katie popped it into her mouth, then licked her fingers clean as she followed him out of the tent.I wish I knew how to make him smile more often. His smile makes me feel happy all the way through. The westbound passengers had played cards today, and gossiped, and gotten acquainted. They drew together, sharing childhood stories, talking about 'back home,' wherever that was. The only one who hadn't spoken freely of his past was Luke, who'd simply said he'd served in the Union Army throughout the War. She knew he was from Kansas, but not from where or why he'd left. Nor had he volunteered why he was headed West. According to her pa, few single men made the journey solely for the sake of land. They were running from something--somebody?--or they were seeking adventure or riches. That wasn't important. All that mattered to Katie was that he was here with her. She felt him take her hand again, enjoyed the frisson of warmth that went up her arm when he squeezed. But Katie was immersed in her daydreams, and paid little attention to where he was leading her. Perhaps that was why, when he suddenly jerked his hand from hers, she was taken so completely by surprise. "Hold him!" The voice was out of her nightmares. The painful grip on her upper arm was familiar. Straining against it, Katie twisted until she could see Luke, standing unnaturally tall in the shadow of a pile of ties. Behind him loomed a big man, tall and wide. Jammed against Luke's windpipe was a gleaming blade--it looked just like Pa's Bowie knife. Without moving anything but her head, Katie looked back over her shoulder and up into the pale, cold eyes of Hamilton Steens Whitney III. "What do you want?" "I think that's rather obvious, Miss Lachlan. I want you to come with me." He jerked his head. "Take him away." "What d'ya want me to do with him?" the bruiser said. She felt Whitney shrug. "I don't care. Kill him, I suppose." As if Luke were nothing but a bug. "No! Don't." Moving slowly, Katie slipped her right hand into the pocket of her skirt. "He's done nothing to you. Why kill him?" The fingers of Whitney's free hand flicked, as if to rid themselves of something unclean. "Why not? He has been a nuisance to me." Although still warm from the heat inside the crew tent, Katie shivered uncontrollably. "Wait.Please! " She made her voice as humble as she knew how. The derringer was caught on something in her pocket. She tugged gently, afraid to move too obviously. "You have caused me a great deal of inconvenience, Miss Lachlan. So has he." Again that flick of the fingers. "Take him away. Dispose of him." There!"Don't move," Katie snapped at the lackey. "Unless you want your boss shot in the belly." She prodded Whitney's midsection. "Tell him to turn Luke loose," she ordered, "and to drop the knife." The fingers on her upper arm tightened, making Katie wince. Her fiddle case fell

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html from nerveless fingers. "Careful. I might pull this trigger by accident," she said. Again she prodded. "Tell him!" Whitney released her. "Do it." The order was given grudgingly. As soon as the bruiser's blade dropped from his throat, Luke pulled free. He kicked the knife away, so that it went skittering across the frozen ground. "Get lost," he said to the bruiser. "Mr. Whitney?" Whitney nodded. "Go. I shall deal with this." The man went. Luke picked up the knife, holding it easily, so it didn't quite touch Whitney's ribs. "How'd you get here?" Katie demanded, prodding with her derringer yet again. "You weren't on the train." "On the contrary, Miss Lachlan. I rode in the caboose." He smiled. "I believe it was far more comfortable than the public car in which you traveled." "How--" "Money," Luke rasped, "He's got money, and that'll get him just about anything." Just then a train whistle sounded. "Tarnation! That's our train, Katie. Quick, give me your scarf!" She snatched it from her head and watched Luke loop it around Whitney's wrists. He pulled it tight, knotted it. Then he pushed Whitney away, a good hard shove that sent him reeling out into the darkness. A crash told Katie he had found one of the scattered piles of scrap wood that littered the area. "Let's go!" She picked up the fiddle case and ran. Luke was right behind her. The train was already moving when they grabbed the bars beside the door and swung aboard. CHAPTER TEN "You don't need me," Luke panted as they stood in the vestibule of the railcar. "I should've stayed in Laramie." He wasn't ready to think about what it meant, that she'd been so ready to defend herself. Not yet. Katie looked up at him, eyes sparkling. "Yes, but I might next time." She hugged him, the fiddle case whacking him across the shoulders. "If you hadn't been there, I'd have had to contend with the both of them. My hero!" Quickly she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him on the cheek. Luke turned his face, caught a bare taste of her mouth before she could pull away. Once more he breathed lilac and springtime, and his gut tightened. "Damn it, woman, what were you thinking of, shoving that toy gun into his belly? He'd have had it away from you in a minute!" "No, he wouldn't have. I would have shot him." "One shot," he sneered. "That would have stopped him, sure enough." "Yes, it would have stopped him, long enough for me to get away, at least." "Long enough for you to get killed, you--" The door behind Luke opened and he almost fell into the railcar proper. "You folks cut it pretty close," the conductor said as Luke caught his balance. "You get lost or something?" "Or something," Luke agreed, pulling Katie inside. "It's like the inside of a deep well out there."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "Hard to keep lights burning in this wind." The conductor caught his balance as the train jerked forward. "You could've caught up. We're just moving to a siding so a freight can pass us. It's carrying explosives for a tunnel they're trying to get built before winter." Shaking his head, he said, "Sure hope we have a mild one. Where they're working, it wouldn't take much to snow them in good." He led the way up the aisle. Katie slipped into an empty seat close to the stove, setting her fiddle case against the window. "When will we get to Green River?" "Oh, an hour or so, if the freight don't take too long to lay on coal and water. It's about fifteen minutes behind us right now. We'll let it get that far ahead before we follow." "I can't complain," Luke said. "I've had enough of explosives to last me a lifetime." "In the War, were you?" "I was. Will we be at Green River long enough for me to check my stock?" He should have done that instead of going to eat, but the lure of coffee had been too strong. And he'd looked in on them at Point of Rocks, only about thirty miles back. The conductor nodded. "I reckon, if you look sharp." Another passenger, a new one, asked him a question and he turned away. Luke sat down. "I don't like this delay," he said, feeling the train sway as they crossed a switch point. "We're too close to town." Katie's eyes were dark as she looked up at him. "Do you think he'll try to catch up with us?" "He's done it before. And you heard what the conductor said, didn't you? We're gonna sit on a siding for God only knows how long. Whitney could be a hundred miles down the line before we get out of the switchyard." He won't though. He's playing with her, like a cat with a wounded bird."That dude is plumb crazy!" Nodding, she said, "I've thought so, too. He's so unpredictable. One minute he's so polite butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, and the next he's acting like a thug." She stood up and dug a hand into her pocket. "Can you get to the gunny sack?" With a grunt, he lifted the provisions to his lap. "I brought some biscuits," she said, showing him a napkin-wrapped packet. "They taste a lot better than our crackers."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Luke eyed the napkin. "Stealing from the railroad?" "Not a bit of it. I left two bits on the table." The biscuits disappeared into the sack. "Do you want a lemon drop?" Luke took one. While he sucked the sweet-sour candy, he looked at the map he'd bought at Laramie. It wasn't very detailed, but it did show a bit of the topography. It looked like they had one more major divide to cross before they got to Evanston, which was as far as passengers were being carried. Now where...? Ah, there it was. Checking the mileage table at the bottom of the map, Luke saw that they had about a hundred twenty miles to go. If the snow didn't slow them too much, they could be there tomorrow morning. The rails veered north just past Green River, missing Fort Bridger by quite a ways. Then they cut south across the stage route, not rejoining it again until Evanston. "Maybe we should get off at Green River," he muttered. "I thought the conductor said we could ride to Evanston." "Well, we can, but if there's trouble, we could have a long walk." He showed her. "But we've left him behind." Her tone showed she wasn't entirely certain. "Yeah, and we've already been delayed by one derail. What happens if we run into another?" Luke gestured at the window, which now had a lower rim of white, fluffy snow. "Or get stuck?" "We won't get stuck. The railroad has snowplows." "Ahuh! Well, I hope you're right." He folded the map and put it back in his pocket. "Sure hope we don't sit here too long." *** An hour later they were pulling into Green River, but for all Katie could see, it could have been the moon. Snow swirled around the train, so that the open door of the telegraph office, only a few feet from the side of the train, was hardly visible. As their railcar rolled slowly past it, Katie saw a man step into the rectangle of light. "Luke!" "Huh?" He tipped his hat back and yawned. "Oh, we're here. Guess I'd better see to--" "It's him again. Whitney!" Her teeth wanted to chatter. Surely it wasn't that cold all of a sudden. He pushed past her, peered through the window. "Where? I don't see anybody." "Right there--" But there was nobody in the doorway. Even as she watched, the rectangle of light slowly narrowed and disappeared. "I saw him. Honest I did!" This time she had no doubts. The man whose silhouette had filled the doorway was Hamilton Steens Whitney III. Her stomach clenched. "You're sure?" Katie looked into his eyes, praying he believed her. "He's in there, Luke. He's waiting for us." "Well, hell!" He scratched his chin, frowned. "Gather up your gear." Suiting action to words, he tugged his bedroll from under the seat. "Come on, Katie! Get moving!" Luke stood up, slinging the bedroll to his shoulder. "Hand me that fiddle case." "I can get it. Just a minute." The darned quilt wouldn't stay rolled. No wonder. The last place she'd seen the scarf she usually tied it with was around Whitney's wrists.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Luke reached. "Then give me the quilt." "No, I've got it now. All ready." She tucked the quilt under her arm and handed the gunnysack of food to Luke. The train was still moving when they reached the door where the conductor waited. "I thought you folks was goin' on to Evanston?" "We are, but we've decided to sleep in the stock car. Can you keep that under your hat?" "Well, sure, but--" "Just do it," Katie said. "Please." She pressed a five-dollar gold piece in the conductor's hand. "There's a man out there we'd just as soon not meet." "Glad to oblige." There was a last shudder, the signal that the train was completely stopped. "Maybe you folks would like to get out this side," the conductor said, opening the door that faced away from the station. "Thanks." Luke tossed his gear to the ground, leapt after it. Then he held his arms up for her. Katie jumped, knowing he would catch her, fiddle case and all. As soon as her feet were on the ground, he grabbed her hand and half dragged her toward the front of the train. The snow was blowing so wildly that all Katie could see was the dark, moving shape of him ahead of her. When he stopped, she almost ran into him. It took him only seconds to slide the door of the stock car open a wide crack. "Here. Give me all that." "I can--" "Durn it, Katie, give me the consarned fiddle case. I ain't gonna steal it." She did, hating the feeling as it left her grasp. Yet she trusted Luke. Would trust him with her life, if necessary. So what difference did it make if he temporarily held everything she owned in his hands? In a moment all their possessions were on the floor of the stock car. Luke hoisted himself up and twisted until he was on his knees, leaning out. "Give me your hand." Katie did, and gasped as he swung her up. She might have been a feather, for all the notice he took. She scooted past him, pulled their gear farther into the car. Under her knees, straw rustled. Behind her, a soft, questioning nicker came from one of the animals. As Luke slid the door closed, all light disappeared from the inside of the stock car. "Have to feel our way," he said. "I don't want to make a light. There's cracks in the walls and somebody could see." The temporary stalls were still in place, making moving by touch far easier than it would have been without them. Katie knew she'd found Salome when a soft donkey nose jerked back and was replaced with sharp donkey teeth. She dodged the teeth and gave the cantankerous animal a quick scratch along the muzzle. She was feeling her way past the sorrel gelding's stall when a sudden lurch told her the train was pulling out of Green River. Leaving Mr. Mad-as-a....No. there's not anything funny about him. Not any more.Leaving Whitney behind. She hoped. "Katie?" "Here." She made her way along the side of the stalls, heading for where his

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html voice had come from. As she passed Sheba, the friendly donkey nuzzled her gloved hand. "Hey, you honey," she said softly. "You're going to have company tonight." Something rustled, a faint sound almost lost in the sound of the wheels as the train gathered speed. "I've made you a bed," Luke said, keeping his voice low. "Over here." Groping, she found him, grasped his coat sleeve. Katie let him guide her a few feet, let him push her gently to her knees beside a mound of hay. He had covered it with a gunnysack, probably the one she'd seen lying in a corner of the stock car this morning. "Soon as you get laid down, I'll cover you up," he said. The hay was soft, and gave the impression of warmth, the way it nestled about her. As she knelt on the resilient mound, she was flooded with a warm swelling of longing. For two days Luke had been beside her. "Where will you sleep?" His breath was hot on her cheek as he said, "In the hay bin, probably." He laid the quilt over her. Once more she caught his sleeve, by feel, for while her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, he was still little more than a pale shadow against the blackness. "No! Please." Knowing full well what she should do, she decided to go with what she wanted, instead. "Stay with me." "Katie, I--" "I don't want to be alone, Luke. That's all." She could feel the indecision in the way he not-quite pulled his sleeve free from her grasp. "It ain't fittin'." "You said you'd protect me." She really didn't want to be apart from him. A little bit of her admitted she needed his strength and his protection. That she'd sleep better with him beside her than clear across the railcar. "Just a minute, then." His sleeve pulled free of her clutching fingers and she heard the scuff of his boots. In a moment he was back, dumping an armful of hay beside her bed. With his feet he pushed it all together, widening the bed. Again he walked across the railcar. Katie wondered how he could see what he was doing. Whatever it was, it took him several minutes, and disturbed the donkeys while he did it. This time when he returned, it was to set his bedroll-- four feet long, perhaps a foot in diameter--beside her. "Where's your fiddle case?" Katie touched it where it sat beside her bed. "Right here. Why?" "Hand it here. I want to tie it to my bedroll." As she hesitated, he said, "We might have to hightail it out of here right sudden. I want everything to hand if we do." "What about the provisions?" "I already packed them and the saddlebags on Lafayette. All we have to do is open the stall and grab his lead line." Lying back, he pulled the edge of the quilt over him. Katie suddenly realized how big and how male he was. And how warm. "They're already hitched together." He squirmed a little. "Don't untie your

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html boots," he said drowsily, "or unbutton your coat." "Are you expecting trouble?" Her answer was a soft exhalation. Luke was asleep. No wonder. He'd probably not slept well since they'd left Chicago. A week ago? At least. Katie tried to count on her fingers, but found that the nights and days ran together. She couldn't even remember how many nights she'd slept with Luke. Slept with Luke! Wait just one minute, here. She'd sat beside him on a railcar seat. She'd even leaned against him once or twice. And last night she'd snuggled back against his chest. She hadnot shared a bed with him. Until now. Beside her he was like a stove, radiating warmth. Despite the noise of the rails and the howling of the wind--it must be blowing a gale!--she could hear each rustle and whisper as he moved and breathed. The interior of the stock car was colder than the railcar had been, yet Katie was far warmer. She wore wool next her skin, covered by her fine cotton chemise and the calico dress she'd bought from Lizzie. Outside the dress was a shawl crossed over her breasts and her coat--heavy Union blue melton, as warm as a coat could be. Luke must be clad in as many layers. He still wore the dark green wool shirt and the leather vest he'd had on the first time she saw him. His coat was sheepskin, with the fleece inside, where it did some good. The heavy denim of his trousers was probably not as warm as her skirt and petticoat, but under them he undoubtedly wore longjohns as adequate to the conditions as her wool challis camisole and pantalets. She might as well have been lying naked beside Luke, so preternaturally aware of him was she. Although they touched nowhere, it was as if they touched everywhere. Inside her gloves, her fingers remembered the scratchy feel of his chin. Her face glowed with the memory of his lips, his mustache brushing across her cheek. Restless she turned, trying to find a position of comfort. Her hand brushed against Luke's arm. As if in reaction, he turned and draped the arm across her body. It lay there, heavy, relaxed, and she knew he still slept deeply. Katie lay very still. If she moved, she would be lost.Breathe , she told herself, when she grew dizzy from a lack of air. Luke's arm lay across her midriff, just below her breasts. The longer it lay there, the more sensitive they became, until they seemed swollen and aching. She knew her nipples were tight, as they became when she dressed in winterchilled rooms. So this was desire. For a long time she'd wondered about the powerful excitement that seemed to betray a person's principles, undermine her beliefs, and lead her into a swamp of emotional quicksand. Well, now she knew. It was a ravenous hunger of the body that only a man

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html could satisfy. Only a man like Luke. Last year at Seminary she and several of her friends had talked often about men and sex and marriage. They all knew--or had thought they knew--what happened between a man and a woman. Several of them had already discovered passion, although only one admitted to having taken it to its inevitable conclusion. She'd insisted it was terribly overrated. After much discussion the group had agreed that marriage was a trap, but one which must be entered for the sake of children. Babies, they had had agreed, were bait many women found impossible to resist. Katie's best friend, a compassionate, driven young woman destined to devote her life to bettering the lot of slum children, had vowed never to marry. "I shall take lovers," she'd said airily, "whenever the drive to mate becomes too strong to resist. After all, isn't that what all men do? Why should standards for women be any different?" "But what if you become pregnant?" one asked. "Pooh! There are means to prevent it." But when asked, she admitted she had no idea what they were. Neither did Katie. At the time she hadn't cared. Now she wondered if she should have. All the other reasons she'd been given for protecting her virtue didn't seem terribly important right now. What would happen if she turned into Luke's embrace? Would he wake? Did she really want him to? As she pondered, she became aware that the train had slowed, but did not seem to be stopping. They had taken on water just a little while ago. Surely it was too soon to do so again. They began moving faster again, but only briefly. Again the train slowed, then shuddered to a stop. Outside she could hear shouts, as trainmen attempted to be heard over the wind. A jerk, and they were moving backwards. They backed for several minutes, then stopped, started forward. This time the train put on speed rapidly. Accelerating, it swayed and rattled. Then it slowed abruptly, eliciting a bray from one of the donkeys and a snorting complaint from the mule. Luke's arm tightened, pulling her solidly against him. "Water stop?" he mumbled. "I don't think so. There may have been something wrong with the train. Whatever it was, it seems to be fixed now." "Good." Apparently just noticing how closely entangled they were, Luke nuzzled her cheek. "Hmmm." His nose was cold, but his breath was hot. "Luke?" "You smell so good." His lips moved over her cheek, never quite reaching her mouth. Katie shivered. Not from the cold. "You taste so good, too." As his tongue lightly touched her cheek, the corner of her mouth, all Katie's

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html strength and will power seemed to trickle out of her. "Luke...please...ahhh." "And you're so soft." His hand was inside the collar of her coat, cool against her throat. Slowly his fingers crept to the back of her neck. He drew her down. She could no more have resisted his consuming kiss than she could have flown. CHAPTER ELEVEN With every touch of Luke's mouth on her face, desire blazed through Katie. She turned her head, trying to catch his lips with hers, but he evaded her attempts. Nipping, tasting, kissing her cheeks and chin, her forehead and throat, he brought hot blood to her skin and stole the breath from her mouth. She gasped when his teeth fastened gently on her lower lip, panted when his tongue stroked across her cheek, leaving a trail of burning, icy wet. "God, Katie," he whispered, biting at her earlobe, "I want to--" At last he kissed her. His tongue stroked the inside of her lips, delved under hers, sparred and retreated. She moaned with the relentless force of the inferno he ignited within her. "Luke?" she gasped, catching his tongue as it slipped between her teeth, sucking, holding him within her. With both hands, she cupped his cheeks, loving their prickly feel. "Luke, please...tell--" He rolled atop her, his hard body pressing her into the yielding hay. Even through all their clothing, she felt the hard ridge of his desire, pressing against her lower belly. "What?" she demanded again. "What do you want?" She writhed beneath him, wanting him closer. Wantingmore . Her skirts were wrapped around her legs, holding them tightly together. "Wait," he breathed against her mouth. "Let me." His hand stroked along her side, molding the heavy wool close to her body. When he reached her breast, she arched against his hand. Luke slipped his fingers inside the bulky wool coat, found a nipple already swollen and tender with need. A deep stab of desire singed through her and she sobbed, knowing that only more of his touch could assuage the ache within her. His hand found her buttons, flat little disks of pearl, and fumbled. "Tarnation!" he muttered. "Let me--" "No. Letme ." Removing his hand, he pulled her coat closed and stroked again the length of her torso, down her thigh. She felt him tug at the coat, felt it being slid upwards, and then his hand was on her skirt, drawing it higher as well. A draft crossed her ankles as Luke pulled again, pulling both her outer wool petticoat and the inner batiste one away from her calves. She kicked gently, trying to free her legs from the folds and twists of fabric. A bit more pulling and Luke's hand came to rest on Katie's knee, scorching her through the thin wool of her pantalets. He rolled to his side and reared up on his elbow. Even in the dark, she could feel his gaze on her face. "Tarnation, Katie, how many layers have you got on, anyhow?" The tension that had been building in Katie snapped, like a rope stretched

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html beyond its strength. She giggled. "What the he...heck!" Biting her lip, Katie did her best to contain the giggles. She hated them, hated the impression they gave to others. "I can't...can't help it," she gasped, between paroxysms. With a hand as steady as an aspen leaf in the wind, she clutched at his coat, wanting him to hold her again, to soothe her until she was calm. "Honest...Luke, I...I'm not laughing...at you...not laughing...." She took a deep, gulping breath. Held it. Let it out slowly and took another, this one more even. After a few more breaths, she was in control, but still weak and shaken. Helplessly she patted at his face, wanting to tell him...to tell him what? With each breath, common sense had returned in greater strength. She had been ready to give herself to Luke. Let's not beat around the bush, Katie girl, an inner voice told her.You weren't giving anything away. You were stepping right up there and taking what you wanted. "You mind telling me what you thought was so funny?" There was none of the lover in his voice now. Only a cold, hard anger. Katie sought the right words. How could she explain that she'd been scared and excited and...and a little bit daring. "It's hard to explain," she said, hoping he'd just leave it there. "Ahuh! I guess you were havin' so much fun, you just had to laugh?" "No. No, I wasn't laughing. Not at you." "You could have fooled me." He moved away from her and she heard the scrape of his boots on the wood floor. "Please, Luke. Let me expl..." A great shudder shook the railcar, causing the animals to cry out, and rolling Katie from the mound of hay. She heard, as from a distance, Luke's curse, but the noise from outside was so great that even Lafayette's loud bray was drowned out. The railcar continued to shake and jerk, as a series of shocks took it. Katie rolled herself into a ball, hands on the back of her neck. And like a ball, she was bounced across the floor and into the side of a stall. "Katie!" Luke's yell barely penetrated the noise from outside. "...all right?" One more great shudder tried to roll her away from the stall. "Yes," she called, clinging to an upright post. "Yes, I'm all right." Her last few words, shouted, filled a sudden silence. "Stay still," Luke said again, in a more normal tone, "don't move." Outside shouts echoed in the cold night air. Inside, all four animals complained loudly of the treatment they'd received, their brays drowning out the noise from outside. Katie pulled herself to her feet and felt her way along the stall until she reached the gate. "I told you to sit still," Luke said, as her hand landed on his arm. "You'll need help," she said, close to his ear. Both donkeys were still

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html braying loudly, but the mule had fallen silent. The sorrel gelding was moving restlessly but not protesting the ill treatment. Slipping inside the first stall, she found the donkey's muzzle and cupped her hand across its mouth. "Hush, Sheba. Let's see if you're hurt." She ran her hands over the donkey's legs, but found no evidence of damage. The animal was quiet now, but her small body still trembled. Katie stroked her, murmuring nonsense syllables. "Hold still, damn you," Luke said, from somewhere in the dark railcar. "I can't get you untangled if you keep trying to step on me, you fleabait." "Can I help?" "Nope. Lafayette's got his feet wound up in some rope, but he's all right. How's Salome?" Reluctantly Katie left Sheba and went to the stall holding the other donkey. To her great surprise, the animal stood quietly while she ran her hands down its legs, along its barrel. Only when she tried to lay a hand on Salome's nuzzle did the donkey's usual bad temper become evident. Her bite would have taken skin if Katie's arm had not been protected by the heavy coat. Katie caught the rope dangling from Salome's halter and held her head down while she finished checking for injury.I thought Luke tied them together. He must have changed his mind. She squeezed past Salome and into the next stall. Quickly she checked the sorrel, wondering where its owner was. The train was no longer moving. Shouts still sounded outside, curiously muffled. The notes of panic and fright she'd heard earlier were gone. "I wonder what happened." She went to the door, unlocked it carefully, and slid it open a few inches. Outside was a solid wall of snow, so close she could reach out and touch it. No wonder the voices had sounded muffled. They still did, although she could hear more clearly than before. Katie strained to hear individual words. She cupped her hand around her ear, leaned farther out, until she was almost propped against the wall of snow. "You trying to fall out?" Luke said, just behind her. His hand wrapped around her arm and he pulled her back inside. "Not a chance," she told him, gesturing. For the first time since they had entered the stock car, she could see his face. Starlight reflected from the snow, and she realized that the sky had cleared. The air was colder too, or was that her imagination? Luke leaned out and looked both ways. He had turned his head, as if to speak to her, when there was a loud thump on the roof of the stock car. Quickly he pulled back inside and eased the door almost shut. One hand gestured her to silence. A series of thumps moved from the back of the roof toward the center and Katie realized that someone was walking there. They continued to the front. A scrape, and then a less audible thud. The walker had jumped the gap between cars and was

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html continuing to the front of the train. "I'm going to see what happened," Luke said with his mouth close to Katie's ear. "You stay here." "But I want-- " "Stay here," he repeated. "And get our gear together. We may have to clear out of here. We could be in a hurry." He opened the door just far enough to accommodate his body and jumped down. "Close it," he said quietly from where he stood in the narrow gap between train and snow. "Men!" Katie said with disgust at being left behind like a helpless lady. After a few minutes of feeling her way about the car, trying to account for all their belonging, she admitted that Luke was far more suited for sneaking about than she was. His longer legs alone gave him an advantage. His clothing gave another. Not for the first time she regretted the loss of her satchel. Among its other contents had been a pair of sturdy woolen trousers. Luke looked both ways but could see no farther than the ends of the stock car. He eased his way along its side, shoving through where the snow lay hard against the car's side. When he reached the coupling, he groped upwards until his hands found the lowest rail of the ladder leading to the roof. He pulled himself up, rung by rung, until his feet could find purchase on the ladder. Carefully he eased his head above the roof, peering along it. Although there were moving lights in both directions, he saw no sign of anyone nearby. Damn this snow!If he stood and ran along the roof, he would be visible for a hundred yards, easily. Then he realized that the men he could see were simply shapes in the night. There was no possibility of recognition. He pulled himself the rest of the way up and got to his feet. The roof was ice-coated in places. Carefully he walked toward the rear of the train, for that was where most of the activity seemed concentrated. As he approached the back of the last boxcar, Luke saw several men enter the passenger coach. Four remained in the deep snow beside the caboose. They seemed to be arguing. Even as he watched, one stepped back and gestured violently. He climbed down. The space between the wall of snow and the side of the passenger car was wide enough for him to walk comfortably. Stepping carefully, he crept along, ready to dodge under the railcar if needed. With any luck, no one would see him. One of the voices he'd heard spoke in a familiar accent. Any closer and they'd hear his footsteps. The snow was so cold it squeaked. He still couldn't hear the words spoken by the fellow with the deep voice. They sounded final, though. "Maybe in the morning," another said. Luke thought it might be the conductor. "I demand that you send word back to the nearest telegraph office immediately. This is intolerable. I shall write to General Dodge myself." Whitney, all right. Luke had been afraid of that. "You go right ahead," the deep-voiced man said. "And when we get unstuck, you can mail it. That might be morning." He raised his hat and scratched his head. "Sometime tomorrow, anyhow. If we're lucky."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "Insolent wretch!" Whitney gestured to the fourth man who'd been standing quietly behind him. "Muldoon. Come with me!" He stalked toward the passenger car. Luke dodged back and went to ground. He ducked behind the wheels, careful not to bang his head. Footsteps approached, and paused. "She must be inside," Whitney said. "Find her." Luke risked a peek. Whitney's henchman was the big bruiser who'd held him at knifepoint. Luke's fingers itched to teach the bastard a lesson. He sat perfectly still. "What'll I do if she's there. I can't just pick her up and carry her out." "Don't be an imbecile. Of course you can. I shall tell everyone she is my runaway wife." "If that cowboy's still with her--" the words grew indistinct as the man mounted into the railcar. First checking to make sure they were both aboard the train, Luke eased himself upright.Well, hell! He eyed the sky overhead. Mostly clear, although there were a few scattered clouds. He sure wished he knew what that meant. If it was going to clear off, it'd get cold enough to freeze whiskey in hell. If the clouds moved back in, it might snow, but it'd be tolerable for travel. As long as it didn't snow too much. He climbed onto the narrow platform at the rear of the caboose and leaned against the glass at the top of the door. He could hear voices, but no words. Damn it anyhow. He hadn't wanted to remind anyone he and Katie were still aboard. On the other hand, the conductor had been a helpful sort. And he'd sure seemed to take Whitney's demands poorly. Luke tapped on the door. When he saw who it was, the conductor slipped outside. "I guess you don't want to advertise where you are," he said. "Or does it matter?" "If it were up to me," Luke said, "I'd deal with whatever came along. But it's the lady's problem, not mine. That fellow--" He jerked his chin, indicating the passenger coach. "The Boston swell. He's got a mind to marry the lady and doesn't care whether she wants to or not. He's followed her all the way from Boston." "I see." The conductor pulled out his watch, consulted it. "Last stop I got a wire from Piedmont. They got more snow than this there, and it's pilin' up pretty fast. We were bound to try to make it that far tonight, but--" He shrugged. "As you can see, we didn't." "So it's snowin' up ahead?" "Was the last I heard. Evanston reported snow, too. So it probably won't stop anytime soon." His expression was gloomy as he went on, "Matter of fact, we could be stuck here for a day or two, 'less it warms in the morning and we can back out." They both looked at the sky. The clouds Luke had noted before seemed to be coalescing and growing. The wind had picked up again, too. "We'll stay in the stock car," he told the conductor. "Warmer there." "Just a minute." The conductor stepped inside. When he emerged, he handed Luke a lantern. "Long as you take care of your stock and don't trouble the baggage master any, I figure you ought to have this. Just don't set the hay on fire." The lantern, when shaken, seemed full. "Obliged," Luke said. "I'll check back with you in the morning."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "Do that. Good night." The conductor went back inside. Luke had to squeeze pretty tight to get back to the stock car without climbing on the roof, but he made it. When he slid the door open, he called out, "Katie. It's me." "You were gone forever," she told him as she pulled on the hand he'd extended. "What took you so long?" "We're stuck," he told her, "and Whitney's looking for you." "He's here?" Her voice was shrill. "Him and his knife-toting thug." He felt his way to the hay bin. Beside it, a flat- topped box was attached to the wall of the car. He set the lantern on it and lit it. Much as he hated the idea of showing the light, they needed it. They'd get away twice as fast if they could see what they were doing. He looked around the nearly empty stock car. "If you see anything that might come in handy, take it. We'll settle up with the railroad later." He started opening the temporary stalls, setting gate sections against the wall. "You get our gear together?" "Yes. And I found a keg of water. Have we got any way to carry it?" "I'll make one." Habit took over as he checked all three animals, making sure their shoes were tight, their legs free of injury. "Give 'em each a drink. We may not find water right away." They worked silently. Luke gave thanks that Katie was not a typical woman, always questioning his orders. She'd have made a good soldier. "Luke, may I cut some of your rope?" "No more'n you have to. We may need it." Once he'd made sure the stock was ready. Luke knelt and opened his bedroll. In the center, well protected by layers of tarpaulin and wool blanket, wrapped in clean cotton, was his rifle and two hundred rounds of ammunition. He stuffed a handful of bullets into his coat pocket, set the rest aside. Quickly he wiped the surface of the rifle, checked its action. "You said you didn't carry a gun." Katie's voice was accusing. "I don't. This is a rifle." She sniffed, but he could see a smile lurking in the corners of her mouth. "I've got everything I could find ready to load. Do you want me to start?" "I'll do it," Luke said. He was particular about how his stock was loaded. With Katie hardly big enough to see over Lafayette's back, she'd have the devil of a time. She had found half a dozen gunnysacks and some leather thongs. The keg of water was sitting beside a large, lumpy canvas bag. Draped over both was a moth eaten horse blanket and a bundle of leather straps. A hammer sat on top of everything. Luke looked inside the canvas bag. Corn. Looking like it had been nibbled by mice, but with enough remaining kernels to make it worthwhile. Luke tossed a couple of handfuls into the sorrel's feed bucket, then twisted the bag closed. "I thought Salome might carry the corn and our provisions. I think I can rig these across her back." "Good idea. Sure wish we had a shovel." The thought of trying to force the animals along the narrow corridor between railcar and snow was daunting.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Hell! He didn't even know if he could get them to jump down.

"We do, but I didn't think we could carry it." Katie went to the end of the railcar and returned carrying a spade-handled shovel with a bent blade. "It'll get us out of here." Luke took it from her. "See if you can get all that truck tied onto Salome." He shoved the offside door wide open, wincing at the noise. The shovel bit into the snow nicely as he widened the space beside the railcar. Luke pushed the loose snow down below the door, hoping it would pack well enough to support the animals when they emerged. When he turned around to toss his coat into the railcar, he saw Katie stamping on the pile of snow, packing it into a makeshift ramp. He went back to his shoveling. While he worked, he thought about the helpless little woman he thought he'd hired on to protect. She needed a man around about as much as a bullfrog needed eyeglasses. CHAPTER TWELVE The shovel bit through a last layer of snow with such force that Luke nearly lost his balance. At last! Quickly he enlarged the opening. When he'd reconnoitered from the railcar's roof, he had seen how the railroad cut across the toes of one low ridge after another. Even though the ground sloped steeply toward the creek, enough snow was piled up that the engine had embedded itself and its tender until both were entirely out of sight. The drift they were stuck in quickly tapered off on either side of the cut and Luke had aimed his tunnel at the closest end. Now they had to enlarge it enough for Lafayette to get through. Katie dug while he stomped the tunnel's floor as solid as he could make it. When they finally led the animals out into the open, the sky had lightened considerably. Dawn was not far away. They'd have to go slowly until daylight, testing every step. The last thing he wanted to do was tumble into a pond or a creek. "I want to take a last look around. Hold 'em here," he told Katie when she caught up with him. "I checked twice. We haven't left anything behind." Luke hadn't lived this long by relying on others. "Be right back." He slipped past her and the animals, patting each. Their lives might depend on Lafayette and the asses. He sure hoped they were as strong as old Smith had claimed. One last look around the stock car and he was satisfied. The only thing they were leaving behind was the lantern. On his way back, he checked first Sheba then Salome, testing the ropes securing

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html their makeshift packs, taking an inventory of their cargoes by feel. That damn fiddle case. It hung loosely against Sheba's side. "Where's those thongs you found?" "On Salome, I think. I stuffed them into the corn sack." So she wasn't perfect. "How'd you expect us to get them in a hurry?" He moved back, found the mouth of the gunnysack. Katie's knots were competent, and the way she'd hung the two gunnysacks across the ass's back showed some experience with packing. "Anything we might need on the trail, make sure it's where we can lay a hand on it quick." He tied the fiddle case more securely, then tucked the rest of the thongs into a saddlebag. "Where's my rifle?" "I rigged a tie-down on Lafayette. It'll just slip out if you pull on it." Once more working by feel, he tested the lashing. She was right. It pulled free with a quick jerk, the rifle sliding into his hand without a hitch. "Good girl." He replaced it, duplicating the knots she'd used. The sky was definitely lighter. As if to compound his worries, he heard a shout from the back of the train. It was answered by a flurry of voices, then silence again. "Let's go." He led out, walking a pace in front of Lafayette, wishing he had a better map to guide them on this wild goose chase. *** If she had the sense God gave a goose, she'd be taking her chances with Whitney, Katie told herself as she followed Luke away from the train. They were going uphill, but she hadn't any idea in what direction. Without the stars, she was lost. "Do you know where we're going?" He didn't turn around. "I hope so." His words were muted, and she had to strain to hear them. "If we're headed right, we should be able to go over a high ridge and get into a drainage that will take us south. We'll pick up the railroad again closer to Evanston." Katie caught up with him. "But that's nowhere near Fort Bridger!" They could catch a stage at the fort, and arrive in Salt Lake City only a day or so late. "Where do you think would be the first place Whitney'll look, once he finds us gone?" "Oh." Chagrinned, Katie said no more. Once again she heard shouts from the direction of the train. She hoped the shouters were concerned with getting unstuck and not with missing passengers. Part of her wished it would get light real soon. The rest hoped it would stay good and dark until they got far enough from the train that they couldn't be seen. She turned to look back, found that she could no longer see its lights. Of course, once the train crew decided they were stuck for a while, they might have extinguished all lights except those at the tail of the caboose. A deeper darkness told of a draw ahead. Luke handed Katie the lead line. "Hold 'em here for a minute. I want to see what we're getting into." He walked ahead, gradually fading into the darkness. Katie noticed how bare this ridge was. The

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html sky had lightened enough that she could see how scattered piles of snow gradually merged into a solid mass of white in the draws on either side, but the ridgeline, where they walked, was swept bare by the gusting wind. Luke returned, startling her. He could walk as silently as her father and brothers. Amusement flickered through her as she heard his "I ain't your brother," in memory. "Looks like we'll go this way." He pointed to the left. "There's a bench along there that slopes on up. No snow, and it's heading in the direction we want." "We're out of sight of the train. Can we rest?" She was tired and short of breath. If she ever found herself in a bed again, she'd likely sleep a week. "You just did." His teeth flashed in the dim light. "I want to get as far as I can before daylight. Just in case they take a mind to come after us." With a sigh, she said, "Of course. I hadn't thought about that." Doing her best to return his smile, she said, "Well, then, shall we be off?" They climbed slowly as the sky lightened. The wind seemed stronger and colder, too, than it had been yesterday in Rock Springs. It smelled of snow again, and she wondered how long a respite they would have. She coughed as the membranes of her throat dried and chilled. Forcing herself to inhale slowly and evenly, she gradually found it easier to breathe comfortably. After they had been walking for what must have been two hours, Luke turned Lafayette into the partial shelter of a cedar tree. "Rest," he said. Gratefully Katie sank to the ground. For the last mile or so, she had been consumed by jaw-cracking yawns. A sleepless night, following all the nights aboard the train when her sleep had been light and often interrupted, and she was about at the end of her tether. Daylight had come, a dismal, gray affair, with low clouds filling the sky. With full day, the wind picked up again, howling among the rock outcrops and setting the cedars to whipping and bowing. Already her face felt flayed, for the wind had sucked all moisture from her skin. Katie caught herself just as she was about to fall asleep. Luke was moving about and she realized he was feeding the animals. Feeling older than Methuselah's sister, Katie forced herself to her feet and fetched a canteen and the bucket she'd 'borrowed' from the stock car. As she poured water into the bucket, Luke cautioned, "Not too much. We don't know when we'll find more." They were still on the ridge, where no snow lay. In order to refill their keg, they would have to descend deep into the canyon below. Its bottom was choked with shrubs--willows, it looked like. Katie had learned early in life the futility of trying to fight one's way through willow thickets. She rationed the water carefully. When the stock had been tended, Katie dug into their provision bag. "We should carry some of this in our pockets," she told Luke. "My fingers are so cold I almost couldn't get the knot untied." She handed him a large strip of jerky. "Do you want cheese, too?" "How about some apples? And a few lemon drops?"

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html As Katie handed the food to him, she looked up into his face. There were dark smudges under his eyes, and the lines about his mouth seemed deeper. As tired as she was, he must be exhausted. He had done most of the digging. As if to confirm her suspicions, he yawned. So did she, widely, uncontrollably. "I'm sorry," she told Luke. "I didn't mean to get you into this predicament." "I was getting mighty fed up with that train," he said, smiling slightly, "and this sure beats sitting around and waiting to be dug out." "Oh, Luke, you don't need to pretend. If it weren't for me, you'd be sitting warm and cozy in Laramie right now. You must wish you'd never helped me in the first place." Thinking back to Council Bluffs, she wondered if she would have asked him to see her to Salt Lake City, if that first kiss hadn't shaken her so. "I never did take to sitting around all winter," he said, halving two of the apple slices. He fed the animals, one chunk for each, then popped the fourth into his own mouth. Shading his eyes, he looked to the west, up toward the long, sharp crest that lay black against the sky. "I reckon we've got four, five more hours' walking before we get deep enough into the timber to set up camp. You up for it?" Bending, Katie picked up the lead line. "Let's go. The sooner we start, the sooner we get there." She'd be darned if she was going to let him see how weary she was. *** They weren't all that far, as the crow flew, from the train, but a man on foot would do a sight of walking to catch up with them. Luke wasn't much of a judge of elevation, but even he could see that they'd come uphill a fair distance. The Union Pacific tracks were a broken silver line across the land, twisting in and out of the snowdrifts as they wound along beside the creek. He squinted up at the sky. The early morning clouds had cleared, but more were moving in, pregnant with snow. Luke knew if they didn't get into deep timber before night, they'd be hard put to shelter from the coming storm. This was their third rest stop. He'd needed it as much as Katie. All that sitting on the train and he was as puny as a newborn babe. His boots seemed to be filled with lead, making each step an effort. And he couldn't seem to get his wind, like he'd been chasing a loco cow across the plains afoot, yet all he'd done today was walk a few miles. "Well, we won't get any younger, sittin' here," he said, creaking to his feet. Katie took the hand he held out to her and stood. Luckily she didn't pull on him as she did, for if she had, he'd more than likely have ended up in her lap. He was that tired. "Look up there," she said, pointing. "Does that look like a spring to you?" Peering in that direction, Luke squinted. He sure wished he had a field

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html glass. "A seep, anyhow," he decided. "Let's go see." The dark green spot on the hillside was only a little ways from the line he'd planned they'd travel, and not all that far uphill. "How far do you reckon we've come?" Katie slipped her hand in his. Even through her gloves and his, her trust tickled him. She was such an independent little thing, and each small gesture of reliance warmed his heart. Wait a consarned minute!Her relying on him was the last thing he wanted, wasn't it? Luke shook his head, wondering how he'd ever got his thoughts in such a coil. Having vowed he'd never again take responsibility for another person, he'd up and hired on to do just that. Much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, Luke had to admit he couldn't think of anything he'd rather be doing right now. Or anybody he'd rather be with. He'd known his share of women, but not many of 'em were the sort he'd want to find himself on the trail with. Katie sure wasn't the fine lady she'd appeared when he'd first seen her, although she was a lady, sure enough. Cute as a bug's ear and desirable enough to tempt a preacher to sin. Luke wasn't no preacher, even though it'd been a while since he'd done any sinning. Long enough that he was finding it almost impossible to resist temptation. Last night he hadn't, not soon enough, and he was ashamed. Glancing at Katie, he remembered how soft her mouth was, how sweet she tasted. For a moment he imagined he smelled lilac again. Involuntarily he took a deep breath, thinking how he'd like to bury his face between her lush, round breasts and breathe her scent until his whole body was full of it. First he'd take that damned coat off of her, then he'd peel back the waist of her calico dress, button by button. As he twisted each loose from its buttonhole, he'd kiss her warm skin, starting with her throat. He'd linger at the hollow where her heartbeat would throb against his tongue, then slowly find his way down to the top of that lacy undershirt--or whatever she called it--he'd felt last night. She wore no corset. That had delighted him, intrigued him, ever since he'd first noticed the lack, back in Omaha when he'd tripped over her. Of course, under that coat, it really didn't matter. A man would have to lay hands on her to discover how soft and free her body felt. The very thought sent red rage through him. No man was going to lay hands on Katie while he was anywhere around. Especially not some milksop from Boston. Katie let go his hand. "It is!" she cried, hurrying ahead. "It's a spring." Since she had hold of the lead line, Lafayette and the two asses followed her, trotting as they caught the scent of water. Luke let Katie water the stock. He lowered himself to a squat, head hanging, and wondered if he'd ever get himself back upright again. There had been times when he was more wore out than this, but he'd never before found himself gasping for breath as he climbed an especially steep slope. Did Katie have any idea of what they could be getting themselves into? She clearly trusted him--more than he trusted himself. Sure he had a map, but it

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html didn't tell what was over this hogback they were climbing, beyond a winding line labeledCREEK? The unnamed creek--if that's what it was--rose south of here, near where the railroad went through a mountain. That meant they were either going to be climbing that mountain or going around it. He hoped to God he could find an easy pass into the Bear River drainage. After a moment's hesitation, he added a prayer that between here and the hoped-for pass, they'd find shelter and game. There was snow coming, sure as shootin'. The spring was big enough to water the animals and refill their water keg, if you weren't in a hurry. Katie held a cup under the drip, watching Luke from the corners of her eyes. He was restless, checking and rechecking the packs, inspecting each animal's feet. If only he would sit down and rest longer. Exhaustion had drawn deep creases in his cheeks, had smudged around his eyes. Even his usually lithe movements were clumsy, as if it was an effort for him to keep upright. Well, no wonder. If he was half as tired as she, he was about ready to drop. "I've got to find a rock to hide behind," she told him, no longer embarrassed at admitting the need. After a week in his company, she felt as comfortable with him as she would with her brothers. Again she heard a faint echo of his words, denying any relationship. He was sure determined she didn't take him for kin. The spring emerged from the hillside a hundred feet or so below the head of a narrow, rock-filled draw. The chunks of dark stone were sharp, not yet weathered, and Katie picked her way carefully among them. She ducked under a cedar and found herself in the mouth of a semi-cave. An enormous slab of rock had cracked off one wall of the draw and lay diagonally across, braced against the opposite wall. The far opening was narrow, and a few feet beyond it was a solid wall of lichen-covered rock. The best part was that there wasn't a breath of wind in here. A quick inspection showed no signs of recent occupation, although there were some small, dry bones scattered across the floor. Thoughtfully she emerged and retraced her steps partway down the draw. After relieving herself behind a bush, she returned to where Luke waited. "You'll never guess what I found!" "If it ain't food, I don't care," he said. "We've still got a ways to go before dark." "Wait." Laying a hand on his arm, she held him. "You wanted to reach timber so we'd have a way to build a shelter, don't you?" He pulled free. "That's what I said. Let's go." "Luke, darn it, I'm trying to tell you we don't have to go any farther today. I found a place--" "Katie, it's gonna snow tonight." "I know that. And I can think of one or two things I'd rather do than wait out a snowstorm in a shelter where we can't even have a fire." At last he looked at her as if he'd heard her. "A fire?"

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "Go and see." She gestured him to go beyond the spring. "It's just a little way." While he was gone, she looked around the hillside. They had no ax, but Luke had the Bowie knife he'd taken from Whitney's lackey. She'd seen a couple of dead cedars the last little while, so once they had their gear unloaded, she'd take Salome out after a load. "You'll what?" Luke said, later, when she told him her intention. Katie smiled at him across Salome's back. "I'll go fetch some firewood. Let me have your knife." His mouth worked a moment. Finally he said, "You are the stubbornest, contrariest,damnedest female I ever did see!" He slammed his hat on his head. "Didn't your ma ever tell you that a woman's work was keeping house and cooking and the like? You leave getting firewood to me whilst you get our beds set up and figure out what we're having for supper." He stomped out, pulling Lafayette with him. After a moment, he returned. "And don't cook up a feast. If we get much snow, we could be here a week or so." Once more he stomped off. My, he was cranky. She'd better give some thought to supper then. In her experience, a cranky man was a hungry man. With a smile, Katie untied the thong around his bedroll. "Make the beds, hmmm?" She looked around the small shelter. The three animals took up nearly all the central space, leaving only room for a fire ring and a narrow strip along one side where the roof was lowest. Just right for a bed. One bed. The rocky floor of the cave would pull the heat right out of them if they were to lie on it without padding. She unrolled the tattered gunnysacks from the stock car and spread them out. There were enough that the rectangle she made with them was two sacks thick and a little wider than her single bed in Boston. Luke's tarpaulin was long, but not very wide. She laid it down atop the gunnysacks and spread both his well-worn blanket and her quilt on top, then she folded the excess canvas back up, like a bedspread. It more than covered everything, and still she had to fold back about a yard. All day long Katie had considered her future. By leaving the train, they had considerably reduced the odds that they could survive if the weather turned bad. She'd known that when she emerged from the stock car, and she'd seen nothing today to convince her otherwise. If they had stayed on the train, sooner or later Luke would have challenged Hamilton Steens Whitney III. That had not been her intention when she hired him, but she saw now that it was the inevitable outcome of their circumstances. She'd take her chances in the wilderness before she'd let Luke be stabbed in the back, or ambushed. Whitney was too crazy to be diverted from his pursuit of her, and Luke was too noble to abandon her. If there was a man alive, other than the menfolk in her family, who could get her safely to Salt Lake City, it was Luke Savage. And he'd do it at any cost to himself, even the ultimate one. So here she was, miles from nowhere, bound for God only knew where, and her

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html chances of getting there depended greatly on Luke's strength and tenacity. It was a measure of her trust in him, Katie realized, that she wasn't at all frightened. From childhood on, she'd been taught that life held no guarantees, yet sheknew she and Luke would reach Salt Lake City. But just on the off chance that she never got there, Katie wasn't going to waste tonight. CHAPTER THIRTEEN Katie stirred the portable soup to which she'd added shaved jerky and the three wild onions she'd dug at one of their rest stops. A bit of corn meal to thicken it, and it would both warm them and fill their bellies. Luke came back with a second load of firewood. "This ought to hold us." He dropped it just inside the shelter. "Snow's starting," he said, rubbing his hands briskly along his arms. "Getting colder, too." He seemed to be looking everywhere but at the bed she'd arranged. "Supper will be a while yet." She cocked her chin at the coffeepot. "There's water hot, if you want to wash." One of the best things about being off the train was having the privacy to wash more than her face and hands. Katie had given herself a quick all-over scrub, shivering in the cold, baring only one part of her body at a time. She'd also washed her pantalets. They were draped on a straggly shrub behind the cave, out of the wind, hopefully out of the snow. She'd have to remember to bring them inside before she went to bed. At the thought of going to bed, her whole body grew warm from the inside out. "I'm obliged," Luke said, squatting by the fire. Extending his hands, he held them over the flames. Katie watched him covertly. With quick, furtive glances, he was taking inventory of their shelter. She stifled a smile as his gaze kept returning to the single bed, then skittering away. This was the man who'd been all over her like skeeters in a swamp just last night? "Something bothering you?" If possible, he hunched even farther into his sheepskin coat. "Not a thing." "Why don't you take off your coat and stay awhile, then?" "Don't tempt me, woman." "Tempt you? All I said was why didn't you--" He leapt to his feet, almost cracking his head on the slanting rock overhead. "I'm goin' outside. Call me when supper's ready." For a moment Katie stared at his retreating back. Then she smiled, pleased to have her suspicions confirmed. Luke Savage was just a little bit shy, and he was a gentleman. He might take advantage when he could, like any man. As he had last night. But now she knew that he would have released her the instant she so much as blinked an objection. More than ever she was satisfied that she had put her life and future into the right hands. The trouble was, there were times when a gentleman was not what a woman needed. *** His fingers were numb and his moustache ice-coated when Luke returned to the rock shelter and dumped one last load of firewood just inside. He was cold clear through, and still it didn't counter the fire that burned in his loins. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him, he wondered, glaring at Katie

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html across the fire. She was so damned innocent. He'd sensed that in her reaction to his kisses, had it confirmed in her enthusiastic but inexpert reaction to his caresses last night. One bed. Luke shucked his coat, held it just outside and shook the snow from it. Just one bed for the two of them.He hung the coat from a projection in the protected gully wall, removed his hat and knocked it against the leaning slab to dislodge the ice that coated it. She wasn't looking right at him, but he had a hunch she was watching him as she knelt on the other side of the fire and stirred something in the battered cook pot, using a peeled stick. A meaty odor teased his nose. "There's utensils in my gear." He was tired--damn, he was tired. Luke lowered himself onto his heels, closed his eyes. First thing he'd build when he got a place of his own was a proper chair. "Only one plate, but we can take turns." "I found them." Her voice was soft. "Did you want to wash first, or just eat?" "Eat," he decided, without opening his eyes. He heard her move around, smelled again the mouth-watering aroma of cooked meat. Something bumped lightly against his legs, startling him from the doze he'd fallen into. "Supper," Katie said, holding out his plate with the tin cup standing on it. Steam rose from the cup. Crackers slid from the plate as Luke took it. Before he could react, Katie had picked them up and replaced them beside the cup. "There's biscuits, too. Just a minute." She fetched two of the biscuits she'd taken from the crew cook tent and a couple of slices of dried apple. A canteen scuffed against the ground as she knelt beside him. She slipped its strap loose from her shoulder, setting it next to his boot. "The soup's pretty hot, so be careful. And there's plenty." Luke sipped, not quite burning his tongue. The taste of the soup, rich, meaty, with just a hint of onion, awakened his appetite. All of a sudden he felt as if he could eat a horse. Good thing there wasn't one around. "Good," he said, between sips. "Real good." The biscuits were on the hard side, but still tasty, and the crackers crumbled into the soup made it thick enough to chew. Katie moved closer to the fire and sat quietly, watching him eat. Luke was too hungry to care, until he was halfway through his second cup of soup. That was when he realized she hadn't eaten a bite. "Here. Take this," he said, holding out the cup. "I've eaten enough," she said. "While you were outside." Unsure whether to believe her or not, Luke continued to hold out the cup. "Take it!" "Oh, all right!" She snatched it from his hand. "Give me the spoon." She finished the soup and used a splash of water from the keg to wash out the cup. When Luke handed her the plate, she wiped it with her skirt and set it atop the cook pot, which she placed just outside the shelter. He saw her anchor

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html the plate with a big chunk of rock. Only a determined critter would knock it loose. "I'm going to bed. The water's still hot, if you want to wash." If it hadn't been for the quiver in her voice, Luke would have been fooled. As it was, he had to bite his lip to keep a grin from his face. The little vixen was as goosey as he was. He looked at her until she lifted her chin and looked back. In her eyes he read decision. Confusion. Desire. Well, hell! Katie shivered as she lay snug and warm under the quilt, the blanket, the tarpaulin, and her wool coat. Who could ask for a snugger nest, she wondered, as goose bumps chased themselves down her arms. She'd removed her dress, chemise, and the cotton petticoat, but had kept her wool petticoat and camisole on. Both pair of her socks were laid across a rock, airing out since she didn't dare wash them. What if she had to walk again tomorrow? Wool took so doggone long to dry out. The fire was banked, but flames still flickered, sometimes casting a hint of Luke's shadow on the wall beside her. One of the donkeys snored softly, a comfortable counterpoint to the whistling of the wind outside their shelter. A splash, a scrape of metal on stone, another splash, told her that Luke was washing. Would he remove his shirt? His pants? Again shivers danced along her spine. He wore longjohns, red ones, she saw when she stole a peek at him. Would he removethem ? Her pa only took his off to be washed, from first snowfall to when the willows started misting green along the creek. Ma had often teased him about it, cajoling him out of them every couple of weeks. Katie had a mental picture of them hanging on the drying rack before the hearth. Suddenly she understood the rest of the picture. Ma and Pa had insisted he had to stay in bed until his underwear was dry. Her godparents had always taken the Lachlan children to their cabin for the afternoon, returning them just in time for supper. Ma had fed Pa his dinner in bed. Now Katie realized that dinner wasn't the only thing Ma had given Pa on those long winter afternoons. "There's nothing in the world better than loving a man," her ma had told her, more than once, her voice soft and gentle, her smile radiant. "It's the most wonderful feeling, Katie," Ellen had said when she asked her sister about being married. "I can't describe it." She also had smiled, the contented expression of a cat with a mouthful of feathers. Unsatisfied with both answers, Katie had decided that something was missing in her that she had never felt desire for any man. Not missing. Only sleeping. Waiting to be awakened. She rolled over and looked straight at Luke. The fire had burned low, but still gave enough light that he appeared more like a dark shadow than a real person. He was bare to the waist, the tops of his longjohns hanging down over his pants, his chest gleaming bronze in the firelight. His hands went to the fastening of his pants. As she lay, mouth dry, he

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html opened them, let them drop, stepped out of them. His movements economical, he slid the longjohns down his legs and kicked them aside. Back to her, he bent to pick up the scrap of cloth she'd made into a washrag. Quickly he washed himself, bending and stretching with all the grace of a panther. His legs were long and straight, not bowed as were those of so many men who spent their days astride. Narrow hipped, broad chested, he looked twice as brawny stripped as he did clothed. Strong. Intrepid. All man. He half turned. His sex jutted boldly, unconstrained by clothing. Katie licked her lips. Once. Twice. "Luke?" she said. No sound came out. She swallowed. "Luke?" This time it was a husky half-whisper. He went dead still. His voice was as husky as hers when he spoke. "You're sure?" "I'm sure," she said, as all her doubts evaporated. Three steps brought him to her. He knelt beside the pallet, drew back the covers. A cold draft swept across Katie's body. Before she could shiver, his hand lightly cupped her chin. "I want you," he said, hoarsely, "and I know you think you want me." His thumb stroked across her lips. Katie's tongue darted out, of its own accord, its tip just tasting him. The skin of his thumb was warm, rough, and salty. "If you change your mind, tell me. I'll stop. Right then. All it will take is you saying no." She reached up and caught his wrist. "Come to bed, Luke." Had he groaned? She wasn't sure, for as he slid down beside her, Katie could think of nothing besides the heat of him, the size of him. He filled the bed. It had seemed large enough for the two of them, yet now there was no place for her except tight against his body. As his arm enfolded her, she found she couldn't move in any direction except closer. He smelled of soap, the mild, faintly spice-scented soap she'd found in his bedroll. His skin radiated heat. He lay perfectly still beside her, holding her loosely against him, his opposite arm resting across his belly. Katie waited. And waited. Luke did nothing. She moved against him, ever so slightly. Yes, he was still aroused, although perhaps not as much as before. "Luke?" "Um-hmmm?" "Aren't you going to...well, I thought...." She reared up on her elbow and glowered into his face. "Aren't you supposed to...well, to dosomething ?" Almost before she knew it, Katie was flat on her back, pressed flat to the hard rock floor by a naked man. "Sweetheart, if I was to do to you want I want, you'd never forgive me." He bent to her and kissed her, his lips questing across hers. "I want you so bad I can't hardly stand it, Katie. I was just layin' there thinking pure thoughts, trying to get myself cooled down a bit." Hot against her face, his breath was coming fast, as if he'd just run a footrace. "I don't want to hurt you."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html She kissed his bristly chin, which was all she could reach. "I don't think you could hurt me, Luke. You're too good a man." "A man can hurt a woman powerful bad her first time, if he ain't careful," he said, breath hot against her face. "I've seen--" He shook his head, eyes closed, and suddenly rolled away from her. "You don't want to know what I've seen." If she had had any remaining doubts about his goodness, they were gone now. "You won't hurt me." Raising herself again on her elbow, she laid a hand across his chest, delving through the mat of dark red hair covering his male breasts. A pebbled nipple grew instantly hard under her seeking fingers and she paused to toy with it. Luke's whole body jerked, as if he'd been shot. "Careful, sweetheart," he gasped. For a moment she didn't understand, then Katie remembered the deep twist of

desire she'd felt last night when he'd plucked at her nipple. "Is it the same for you?" she wondered aloud. "God, yes." His hand wrapped around her nape and pulled her face to his. "Just take it easy with me, will you? I'm right on the edge." The embers popped, flared, as a sap-filled knot caught. It threw Luke's face into high relief, showed the lines of strain in his cheeks, the clenching of his jaw. Instantly Katie drew back. She touched his face, one finger soothing along his cheek. "Am I hurting you?" "You're killin' me, sweetheart. But don't stop." His mouth captured her finger, his lips closed about it, his tongue flicked at it. "Oh, my!" Fighting the instinct to clench her fist against an unbearable sensation, Katie let him draw the finger into his mouth. He suckled it, and she felt the pull clear to her toes. "Luke!" Once more he rolled, this time putting her beneath him. His leg held hers to the ground, his chest was a wall preventing her from rising. His hand went to her throat, stroked, then came to rest at the lacy edge of her camisole. "Why don't women use buttons a body can get hold of," he muttered, working to release the first one. "Let me--" "Got it!" He caught her hand. "Don't you know half the fun's in the waiting?" Another button popped loose, letting cold air waft across Katie's bare breasts.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html She felt her nipples contract, tighten even more. A third button, and his hands were on her, hard against the tender skin of her breasts, yet gentle, caressing. Holding himself on his elbows, he loomed over her, using both hands to mold and squeeze, dipping his head to wet her turgid nipples, blowing his hot breath across their wet peaks. Totally captive of the sensations he evoked in her body, Katie gave herself up entirely to desire. Wherever he touched, she burned. Wherever his hands roamed, they found threads stretching to her very core, threads that transmitted torment and rapture to the farthest reaches of her being. And then she burst into flame. An eternity later, Katie forced her eyes to open. The shelter was almost totally dark, only an orange glow marking the fire's remains. She was sprawled naked across Luke, her head lying on his firm belly. His hand lay on her head, fingers just touching the shell of her ear. Her hand was...omigod! Carefully she moved her fingers, exploring the object she seemed to be holding tightly. Steely-hard, yet covered with baby-soft skin. Experimentally she tightened her grip. "Careful." "I thought you were asleep. You were so still." She moved her fingers again. His shaft leapt in her hand, startling her, and she instinctively tightened her grip. The hand that clamped around her wrist reminded Katie of the time a trap she was baiting snapped shut on her pigtail. Impossible to escape. "Turn loose," Luke hissed. "Right now." She did. And gasped, as she found herself lifted and tossed down on the pallet like she was no heavier than a feather pillow. His hand swept down her body, skimming breast and midriff, lightly brushing hipbone. And then it cupped her mound, lying heavy against her. Bringing back the hungry ache to her belly. "What are you...I thought we...Luke!" She gasped as his finger dipped into her, sliding slowly deeper. "Ahhh, Katie. You're so sweet. So hot." Luke stroked her, inside, feeling the honey of her passion welling about his finger. "I want you so damn bad." But he would not take her. He simply didn't trust himself to withdraw. She was so responsive to his every touch. If he took her, he wouldn't want to stop until he'd poured himself deep, deep inside her. As he almost had.God! I was that close. Her climax had come quickly, only an instant after he'd touched the swollen bud hidden in her silky curls. Taken unawares, he'd found reason overtaking hunger, had held himself back from her while she reached completion. "Please," she panted, arching against his hand. "Luke, please--" He kissed her, used his thumb to excite her again, all the while imagining himself rolling in the snow outside, diving into an icy stream. Of anything but the way she writhed in his arms, panting out his name as she ignited once more.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html It did him no good. The next moment the dam of his passion burst and he spilled himself across her belly. CHAPTER FOURTEEN "I don't think that's quite how it's supposed to happen," Katie said, stroking her hand across Luke's back. It was damp with sweat, solid with muscles built with hard work. He lifted himself off her, rolled on his back and covered his eyes with a forearm. "It's the only way itcan happen for us." She knew, but had to ask, anyway. "Why?" "A week or so to Salt Lake City, then you'll go your way and I'll go mine." His voice was as hard as his muscles. "Likely we'll never see each other again." "Is that the way you want it, Luke?" "That's the way it's got to be, Katie. I hired on for a job. When it's done, I'll be moving on." "So this--" Her gesture took in their bed, the cave. "This doesn't mean anything to you but a job." Her voice threatened to break, and she took a deep breath. "You were horny, and I was willing." "Where'd you learn language like that?" he demanded, thrusting himself up on his elbow. He loomed over her, scowling. She ignored him. Half-rising, she shook her petticoat down, gathered its fullness in one hand. As she duck-walked to the fire, she buttoned her camisole. The embers still glowed, so she added couple of short, thick branches. Soon small flames danced along both sticks. "Damn it, Katie!" She continued to ignore him. Knowing she'd been a fool was one thing. Letting him see she knew it was more than she could do. She felt cheated--and a little bit ashamed. She'd acted the harlot. And Luke had been a gentleman. Once she was sure the fire was burning well, she reached beyond and pulled the washrag from the knob of rock where Luke had hung it. Keeping her back to him, she wet it with a little of the still warm-water in the coffeepot, raised her petticoat, and bathed her belly. Not a sound came from behind her until she knelt and stirred the fire once more. "You're lookin' for a husband? Is that it?" "If I was looking for a husband, why was I running away? Whitney wants to marry me." Her stomach roiled at the thought, but she wasn't about to admit it. "Shit!" A scuffle behind her, a mutter of unintelligible words, and a hard hand caught her bare arm and swung her around. "Then what do you want? A baby? It only takes once, damn it." Retreating until she was pressed hard against a warm donkey body, she tried to pry his hand from her arm. "Let me go!" "Not 'til you answer me. What do you want from me?" Katie looked up into his face, half-lit by the now flickering fire. Perhaps it was time to be honest. "I guess I wanted to know what it was all about," she admitted. "All the fuss." His expression hardened. "That sounds awful, doesn't it?" Biting her lip, she tried to find the right words. "Luke, when you kissed me, well, I'd never felt that way before." With

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html her free hand, she touched her lips, swollen now, and tender. "I kept hearing about how wonderful it was between a man and a woman, and I'd never felt a thing. Mostly when someone tried to kiss me, it was unpleasant. About as exciting as gruel." His mouth twisted, but he didn't quite smile. "That's a hell of a thing to tell a man." "I wasn't talking about you." A shiver shook her. "I'm cold. Can we go back to bed?" "I don't think that's a good idea." But he released her. Katie rubbed her arm. He hadn't really squeezed, but his big, work-hardened hand had been tight enough to bruise. "I promise I won't lay a finger on you." One eyebrow lifted. "This ain't settled." "I know that. But it's late, and I'm half-frozen. Put on your longjohns and let's go back to bed." Three steps took her back to the pallet. When Luke came to bed, he had a choice of lying right up against her backside or being only half covered. She kept her breathing deep and even as he settled himself. He lay awake beside her for a long time. Katie knew that, because she didn't sleep either. *** Luke had long since learned that problems didn't go away just because he refused to face them. Sometimes, though, a man could postpone them. If he was lucky. He wasn't. Not today. The only good thing about morning, when it came, was that he didn't have to lay there and pretend to sleep any longer. The light that shone feebly through the slanted entrance to their shelter was pale and cold. Snow drifted across the floor, half filling the opening, sloping down almost to the foot of the pallet. Salome and Sheba stood hipshot, head to tail, eyes closed, ears drooping. Lafayette's head was draped across Sheba's back, as if he hadn't the strength to hold it up. He was snoring again. All three animals looked a hell of a lot more comfortable than he was. Risking frostbite, Luke rolled out of bed. As he did, Katie stirred. He froze, but her breathing didn't change. Quickly he crawled across to where he'd left his pants, wriggled into them, then pulled his boots on. Damn, it's cold!He scraped together some crumbled cedar twigs and piled them in a circle around last night's still warm embers. A shiver wracked him, and he took a moment to slip into his shirt and vest. Both were still damp, especially around the collar, where snow had found its way inside his coat while he was gathering firewood. Bending over the fire ring, he blew gently. A curl of smoke appeared, twisting and disappearing. He blew again and again, never more than a gentle whiff of breath. At last a flicker of flame from the tinder told him he had a fire. Carefully he fed it until it had grown big enough to sustain itself. Only then did he set the coffeepot on the three rocks Katie had used last night. "Coffee's in the small burlap bag," Katie said. Her words were muffled.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Luke glanced across his shoulder. All that was visible of her was the top of her head and a few black strands of hair curling across the rolled-up shawl she'd used as a pillow. Just as well. He wasn't ready to talk to her yet. He didn't know what to say. Roasting and grinding the coffee--the butt of one of Katie's pocket guns worked just fine to crush the beans--gave him time to ponder. Not about last night. He still wasn't ready to think on that. But about what they were going to do. He went to the entrance and peered out into the swirling snow. About a yard away a shrub was dimly visible, but beyond that he could see nothing. Just snow. Blowing, falling, drifting against the rocky walls of the gulch. A man could get lost within ten feet of sanctuary. He'd seen it happen in storms like this. They had food for perhaps a week--two if they stretched it. And they could eat one of the animals, if it came to that. Smith would never forgive me.But if it was a choice of all the stock starving-sixty pounds of grain wouldn't last long if they hadn't any grass to eke it out--or some surviving, he'd do what he had to do. And keep himself and Katie alive doing it. Lafayette lifted his long, bony head and opened big, brown, trusting eyes, staring right at Luke. "Shit!" Luke kicked at the stack of firewood, scattering it. How the hell could he kill and eat a friend? "Whasamatter?" "Nothin'. Go back to sleep." Katie sat up, holding the tarpaulin up to her chin. "I can't. You're making too much noise." She raised her arms, letting the tarpaulin drop, and finger-combed her hair out of her face. His body tightened at the sight. "Coffee ready?" "Almost. Where's the bacon?" "I'll cook," she told him. "Hand me my dress?" The dark calico seemed to hold her warmth as well as her scent. Luke wasted no time in tossing it to her. Quickly he turned his back, wishing he'd never looked her way this morning, never glimpsed the sweet curve of her breast, the slim strength of her bare arms. Her movements seemed unnaturally loud behind him. A body'd think the howl of the wind would drown out the whisper of fine cotton against satiny skin, the soft rasp of wool hose against slim calves. He could hear each button slipping into its loop. Even with his eyes closed, he could see the warm ivory curve of her throat as it disappeared behind the high calico collar. "I've got to see a man about a horse," he said, grabbing his coat. "Luke--" Ignoring her, he stepped outside, ducking through the low entrance. Two steps and he was far enough. Well, so did she, Katie admitted. She slipped into her heavy coat and went to the back of the cave. The opening was even smaller this morning, half-filled with a drift of snow. She kicked through it, and squeezed outside. Quickly,

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html shivering all the while, she took care of her needs. If it got any colder, they were going to have to arrive at a better solution than this. If they were to survive this storm, they would have to stay inside the shelter and keep as much of the cold out as possible. Luke cared for the animals while she cooked. A little bit of bacon, the last of the biscuits crumbled in the fat, and coffee. They weren't moving around, so they didn't need much food. Just enough to keep their bodies warm. "Put on your hat," she told Luke when he squatted next to the fire. She handed him the small frying pan, having put a little of the food on their only plate for herself. "No sense getting yourself chilled." "Who appointed you my ma?" he said, around a mouthful of food. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Luke! Don't be so cranky. We're stuck here for God knows how long, and there's nothing we can do about it. So we might as well get along." "Then don't you be so bossy." He hunched over his makeshift plate, just like an old bear with a honeycomb. "Well, don'tyou be so doggoned stubborn. It doesn't make much difference how warm your coat is if your head's bare." "I know that." "Then put on your hat." He leapt to his feet, almost banging his head against the sloping stone roof. "Damn it, woman! Will you let be! I'll put on my consarned hat when I'm good and ready." Katie slammed the tin plate on the ground. "You haven't said a agreeable word since you got up this morning." "Well, maybe I haven't got anything to feel agreeable about." The frying pan clanged against rock beside the plate. "I don't know why. We're out of the storm. You're well fed. You'd be warm if you'd put on your ha--" "Will you just shut up about my hat!" He snatched it off the pile of gear and slammed it on his head. "I'm going after more wood." Luke buttoned up his sheepskin coat. "You can muck out this place while I'm gone." "Luke, wait--" But he had disappeared into the storm. Katie followed him to the doorway and peered out, but she could see only inches into the swirling wall of white. "Darn him, anyhow!" Well, she'd be crazy to follow him. All she could do was pray he wouldn't get lost. Why was he being so cranky? She hadn't forced him to do anything he didn't want to, had she? Ma had warned her that men were far more the slaves of their desires than women. She'd taken the wisdom with a grain of salt, but now she wondered if there was any truth to it at all. Or was Luke stronger then most men? He had wanted her. No doubt about it. But he'd backed off more than once when he could have pressed his case. She, on the other hand, hadn't exactly acted like a shy virgin. "Wanton," she muttered. "That's what you were, Katie Lachlan. Just plain wanton." So why couldn't she feel ashamed? A twist of desire swirled in her belly. Ashamed? She would never regret what

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html had happened. Her feelings when she awoke this morning had gone far beyond pleasure at having her curiosity satisfied. Her body seemed to glow. She'd felt like purring. Laughter still bubbled just inside, threatening to spill out. When she'd heard Luke moving about, she wanted to call him back to bed. To hold her close. To give her more of his mind-bending kisses. She had wanted him to make love to her again. She still did. Luke, it was perfectly obvious, had no intention of doing so. With a sigh, Katie picked up the shovel. This wasn't at all what she'd planned to do this morning. *** Luke wasn't more than twenty paces from the gulch when he realized he'd been a fool. Keeping one foot in place, he turned and looked around.Nothing. The world was a swirling, white emptiness, without feature or landmark. Even his tracks had disappeared. He knew he'd come downhill from the mouth of the gulch. So he went to his hands and knees.Yes! The ground was higher toward his backside. He turned around and started crawling, pausing now and then to make sure he was still going uphill. More or less. He counted. Five feet. Ten. When he thought he'd crawled far enough, he rose to his feet. He could see his hands at the ends of his wrists, covered with wet leather, curled and stiff. He ordered his right fingers to close, and they moved. Slowly. But he could still feel the pain when they did.Not froze yet , he thought thankfully. Peering about, he thought he saw a darker shape ahead. The cedar at the gulch's mouth? He hoped so. Cautiously he took a step. Then another. And tripped, falling full length across snow-covered brush and rocks. The wind drove snow down the back of his neck. Luke scrambled to his feet, cursing the impulse that had driven him out without the scarf Katie had given him. Forcing himself to stillness, he looked first one way then the other. There!He could make out the mouth of the gulch. Now if he could just follow it back to the shelter. He laid one hand against the rock wall. He counted five steps. Careful steps. Cautious steps, for to lose his touch on the wall could turn him around, send him back the way he'd come. Soon he would be at the shelter. He called, "Katie! Katie, answer me!" His voice was caught and carried away by the wind. At ten steps, he paused again, trying to see ahead. To call again. Surely he should be close to the shelter by now. A clot of snow fell onto the back of his neck, dislodged when his fingers brushed the narrow ledge on which it had collected. Most of it found its way inside. What worried Luke was that it didn't feel particularly cold. Am I close? Or is this the wrong gulch? He could feel his way up and down this rocky wall for hours, using up his reserves of warmth, exhausting himself, and be no closer to the shelter than

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html he was right this minute. Once more cursing his own folly, Luke scrunched down against the wall, shifting around until he was more or less comfortable. His collar was snug about his neck, his hat pulled low. Only his hands and ears were in any danger. Tucking his hands into his armpits, he made himself as small as possible, in order to conserve what warmth his body generated. He just hoped he could last out the storm. Would Katie eventually grow worried about him and come looking? He hoped she had better sense than to leave the shelter while the storm was raging. Deliberately forcing his thoughts away from his predicament, Luke sat and watched the snow spin and dance about him. He'd already chewed to death the question of what to do about Katie. And he was no closer to an answer. He wanted her. He ached for her. Only the blackest-hearted scoundrel would take advantage of her innocence. Innocent? When she'd done the asking? Hell yes! Katie might have grown up on a farm, but she'd spent the last few years learning how to be a lady, not how to be a woman. That fancy school she'd been in probably hadn't taught her much of anything beyond how to crook her pinky and which fork to use. She deserved a better man than Luke Savage could ever be. The man who took Katie's innocence would be honor-bound to marry her, something he couldn't do. She needed a decent man, one who'd give her strong sons and beautiful... A sound penetrated Luke's consciousness, faint, and unlike the whistling whisper of the wind. He raised his head. Again he heard it, clearer now. "Luke? Where are you?" "Here!" His arms weighed a ton. His legs refused to straighten. And his voice had squeaked like a rusty saw in wet wood. He cleared his throat. "Here," he called again, more successfully this time. Carefully he stretched his legs out before him, discovering that he must have crouched here far longer than it had seemed. Had he slept? He was cold through, and stiff as a fence post. Before he could get to his feet, Katie materialized out of the swirling snow. She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands patting and stroking all over his shoulders and arms. "Are you hurt? Where? Can you move your head?" With enormous effort, Luke pushed himself to his knees. His feet were still attached to the ends of his legs, but they felt more like big, awkward blocks of ice than something he could walk on. "I'm fine. Just cold." "Fine!" She grabbed his arm and tugged. "You're half frozen and you say you're fine?" It was easier for Luke to follow her than to resist. He watched her take up the slack in the rope that seemed to be tied to her waist, but couldn't seem to care. The black maw of the shelter took shape ahead of them before Luke had taken twenty stumbling steps. He'd been so close! Ducking under the slanted rock seemed almost more than he could do, but he managed with only a slight scrape across his hat. "Here. Take off your coat."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html He could not seem to move. All he wanted to do was get closer to the fire and get warm. Katie tugged and pulled, wresting him out of the ice-encrusted sheepskin coat. It fell to the floor with a crackle. When she removed his hat, one hand brushed his ear. At least he could still feel it--unlike his hands, which seemed to have fallen off. "Sit." Luke tried. He really did. "I guess I'm froze stiff," he said, the words sounding broken even to him. He tried again to bend at the hips. "I can't seem to..." "Well, no wonder. Stand still." She swung her coat around his shoulders, without letting him slip his arms into the sleeves. It was warm from her body. Luke tried to clutch it tighter around himself, but without hands he could not. Her hands went to his middle. In a moment he felt his pants slide over his hips and halfway down his legs. Somehow it seemed wrong to be dropping them right here in front of Katie, but he couldn't quite figure out why. "Oh, shoot. I forgot your boots." She pushed him gently backwards. "Try again to sit, Luke." His knees bent easier this time, but he found himself hobbled. "Can't," he said, his tongue still reluctant to form words. "Oh, lordy, just a minute." She pulled his pants back up and fastened them. Luke managed to lower himself to the floor, although he half fell the last little ways. It didn't take Katie long to remove his pants and his shirt. He knew he ought to appreciate the situation--wasn't it every soldier's dream to have a pretty girl taking his britches off? All he could do was fight the chills that shook his entire body. He knew when Katie piled the quilt and his blanket on top of him, saw her build up the fire into a leaping blaze. But even when she held a cup of hot, meaty broth to his mouth, Luke could no more stop shivering than he could fly. His teeth chattered so bad on the rim of the cup that half the broth dribbled down his front. Gradually he warmed from the belly out. His feet came to life, throbbing until he wanted to scream. He still had no hands. "At least you're not frostbitten anywhere else," Katie told him after carefully inspecting his ears, nose, and feet. "But I hope you hurt." Luke forced one word past chattering teeth. "W-w-why?" "Because you scared me out of seven years' growth, that's why. Whatever possessed you to go off like that, anyhow? We have plenty of firewood." "N-n-needed to th-th-think." "More like you forgot to think. Let me see your hands." "C-c-can't-t-t." How could he show them to her when they had dropped off somewhere outdoors? She opened his wrappings and pulled his arms out, then slowly eased off his sodden gloves. To Luke's amazement, he still had hands. White, dead-looking

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html things. Concentrating, he told his fingers to move and was amazed to see them obey--slowly, barely bending at the knuckles. "Oh, God!" Katie whispered. "Don't move." Luke closed his eyes, willing the pain from his feet to go away. Willing himself not to curse aloud until it did. Something touched his hands. He looked down to see Katie wrapping a dripping cloth around them. Beside her sat the coffeepot. She was dipping another cloth in it, a cloth that looked suspiciously like her camisole, for there were pale blue ribbons dangling from it. "This should warm them up slowly." She removed the first cloth and replaced it with the camisole. "I just hope you haven't frozen them." A dagger of pain shot up his arm. It was only the first. Before his hands once again felt as if they belonged to him, Luke had lost any inhibition against cursing in a lady's hearing. It was that or scream. All the while Katie kept dipping and squeezing and wrapping. Each time a new, warm cloth touched his hands, the pain grew worse. About three weeks later, Luke realized that his hands merely ached. "Thank God," he whispered, as close to praying as he'd come in a long time. Maybe they were only frostbit, not frozen. Katie turned and stared. "What did you say?" "N-n-nothin'." The next time she lifted a cloth from his hands, Luke reached out and fumbled at the cup. Before Katie could help, he'd lifted it to his mouth and sipped. "G-g-good." He drank more deeply of the tepid broth, and sighed. "That was about the craziest stunt I've ever heard of," she told him, taking the empty cup from his and setting it down. "What in the world did you think you were doing?" "Told you," he said. "N-n-needed to think." "You think too darned much," she said, frowning as she tucked a warm rock up against his spine. "All you had to do was tell me to leave you alone. It's not as if I'd rip off your clothes and have my way with you, you know." Once more she settled the wrappings about him, tucking them in around his neck. Her fingers brushed his skin, warm and gentle. Luke discovered that there was one part of him that had not suffered from the cold. "N-not even if I ask real n-n-nice?" CHAPTER FIFTEEN Where had that come from? Luke bit his lip, lest he say something even worse. He stole a glance at Katie from under his brows, but her face told him nothing. Maybe she hadn't heard. The slanted wall behind him reflected back the heat from the fire. He gradually absorbed the warmth, although shivers still cascaded through him whenever he moved. His hands merely ached now. He was almost afraid to inspect them. One of the men in his company had lost his gloves during an early snowfall the winter of '62. By the time the shooting was

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html over, his hands had lost all feeling. He was lucky, though. Only two of his fingertips had been frozen. The surgeon had cut them off a week later, before gangrene could develop. Had Katie checked closely enough? And would it make any difference if she hadn't? The damage, however bad it might be, was done. Gingerly he let himself slump sideways and wriggled into as comfortable a position as he could find. For a long time Luke drifted in and out of sleep. Each time he woke, he saw Katie puttering about, tending the stock, feeding the fire, sorting through their gear, making little piles of this and that. He wondered what she was seeking. It was too much effort to ask. Last time he'd gone off half-cocked like that, he'd been maybe ten, twelve years old. Ma had been riding him about something or other, and it had rubbed him right raw. So he'd gone haring off to the river. Caught himself a mess of fish too. When he'd come home, feeling fine, looking forward to fish for supper, his pa had whopped him a good one. The fish had gone to the hogs and he'd been sentenced to the woodpile for a week of log splitting. What had stung most, though, was Pa's comment that an intelligent man kept his temper, no matter the provocation by a woman. "They're notional creatures, women are, and it don't do any good to argue with 'em when they've got the bit in their teeth." Damn it, he was supposed to be taking care of Katie! Instead she treated him like a little kid.Put your hat on, Luke. You'll catch your death, Luke. Wipe your feet before.... Hell! Next thing he knew, she'd be telling him how to put his britches on. If she didn't decide first she ought to be the one to wear them. Or maybe she'd tell him to take 'em off again. Oh, God! If only she was buck-toothed and cross-eyed. Fat as a shoat. Bowlegged. Anything but dainty and sweetly curved and pretty as a sunflower in summer. If her breasts didn't fit exactly into his hands, if she didn't smell like the lilacs his mother had cherished. And if she wasn't everything he'd dreamed of, those nights and days of the War, when he never knew if he'd even have a tomorrow. There she sat, off to the side of the fire, all wrapped up in the dark red shawl. Her head rested on her knees, so that all he could see of her face was her forehead and one ear, both gilded by the firelight. How long had he dozed? A long time, if the snow piled at the ends of their shelter was any indication. His gaze followed wispy tendrils of smoke as they twisted upwards and out of the small, high opening at the entrance. He'd better dig it out before night. If the hole got plugged all the way up, they could suffocate as they slept. He was wrapped like a mummy, his arms held close to his body. "Katie?" She lifted her head. "Hmmm?" "Come turn me loose. We've got to dig ourselves out." She frowned at him a moment, then understanding came. "Oh, you mean the doors. It's all right, Luke. No need to worry." "Tarnation, woman, don't argue. Come help me out of this...this cocoon!" "It's cold in here." But she crawled to him. "How do your hands feel?" she asked as she started to unwind him from the tarpaulin.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html How many damned layers did she have on him, anyhow? "I can't tell. They're buried so deep I can't feel them." As the tarpaulin dropped free, Luke began pushing against his confining coverings. They loosened, but he still couldn't move freely. "If you'd sit still, I'd have you free a lot sooner." "And if you weren't so bossy...Godalmighty, woman, you're enough to try the patience of a saint!" They'd almost done it again, fallen into bickering like a pair of brats. He felt a loosening, and he shrugged. "If you'd just listen to me for a change. I piled the snow up myself. It's almost stopped falling, but the wind is just as strong." She folded the quilt aside. "There. Let me see your hands."

Luke held his hands out and let her examine them. They were pink, not white. Thank God. "Good idea. The firewood we gathered may have to last us several days." He pretended he didn't mind that all he had on was his longjohns. He also kept his blanket across his lap. Just the touch of her hands on his reminded him of things best forgotten. With the snow piled up in the entrance, the cave did indeed stay warmer. Katie wrapped herself in her coat and the shawl and lay beside the fire, leaving the rest of the bedding and the warm space under the lowest part of the roof to Luke. "Don't argue," she said when he did, "or I'll sleep with you." Luke decided that he wasn't up to resisting temptation, but he did insist that she take a couple of the ragged gunnysacks for padding against the cold stone floor. *** The next two days reminded Luke of the expectant waiting before a battle. Neither of them spoke unless necessary. He took care of the stock and she cooked. Katie contrived a latrine down at the far end of the cave, where the roof was low. With a pile of snow and a low burlap curtain hung over a line from the gulch wall to a stick poked into the roof, it gave them a little privacy. The fourth day dawned far brighter than any for the last week and more. Once they had eaten their meager breakfast, Luke took the shovel and broke down the snow barrier over the entrance until he could see down the gulch. Katie crowded up beside him and he moved aside so she could see out. Five bright suns clustered in a pale, cold sky, all blinding to look upon. "Oh, look! Sundogs!" Luke glanced up at the sky before looking at the ground before him. "It sure doesn't look like it did when we came in," he said. Snow had almost filled the gulch, lying in long, smooth drifts diagonally across its narrow floor. The

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html big cedar that hid the cave from casual discovery was a mound, higher than a house, with not a branch visible. "It's not as deep on that side," Katie said, pointing. "Maybe we could get out." "Probably. But once we're out of here, who's to say it won't be even deeper? Let's wait a day or two and see." He didn't relish fighting his way uphill against drifts as high as his head. "I sure wish we had more of those leather thongs," Katie said, shading her eyes against the bright sunlight. "What for?" "Snowshoes. I think I could remember how to make them. Then we could go right over the top." Was there anything she couldn't do? "The stock too?" "Oh." Again that sheepish expression he'd seen before on her face. "I never thought of them." She turned to look back at the asses and the mule. "We can't ask them to plow through this, can we?" "Let's wait anyhow. It might melt a bit." Or it could snow more, he admitted to himself. This was new country to him, and he didn't have an idea about how to read weather sign. Did sundogs augur a storm? Or were they in for a clear spell of bitter cold? He scraped and packed snow until the opening was once again small enough to keep the cold out. Two more days. That's all he'd wait. If they didn't move on soon, they might never get another chance. The next morning was heralded by the sound of dripping water. Long icicles had formed along the edge of their slanting roof, and puddles were forming at both ends of the shelter. Katie used the shovel handle to knock snow aside so she could see. The air that wafted through the opening was warm, almost spring like. "A Chinook! Luke! Come see!" Vigorously she dug at the crusted but melting snow barrier. It was soft and mushy, like shaded drifts lingering into spring. Outside the cedar had sprung back erect, flinging its snow burden aside. Cornices of snow along the gully wall had fallen, forming huge snowballs as they rolled to the bottom of the gully. Best of all, a rabbit's trail twisted across the gully floor. If the small critters had emerged, it wouldn't be long before travel was possible. Luke nudged against her elbow. "What am I supposed to see? There's nothing out there." "You can't see anything. The Indians call it a Chinook, a warm wind from the south. By tonight most of the snow will be gone." They were loaded up and out of the shelter within two hours. Patches of bare, muddy ground were showing through the snow by then. Going was not easy, for the melting snow would not support a human foot, let alone a donkey's dainty hoof. The animals were game, though, seeming as relieved to get out as Katie was. She knew that she'd be stiff tonight, for each step was a challenge. Either her feet disappeared into knee-deep snow or she was

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html fighting to keep from sliding backwards down the wet hillside. Getting out was worth the hard going, though. If she and Luke had stayed in the shelter much longer, they would have been at each other like the Kilkenny cats. As she'd hoped, the ridge leading upwards was almost clear, the snow having drifted to one side in long, deep ridges. They made good time and were in timber by midafternoon. "I want to get over the top before dark," Luke told her when she suggested resting. "It doesn't look too far now." "If you can do it, I can," Katie told him grimly. Her legs were so much shorter than his that the remaining deep patches of snow were harder for her to cross. She was wet to the waist, her knees and hips screamed for rest, and she didn't believe she'd ever be warm again. They broke out of the woods near sunset and looked down the other side. The low sun gilded the sharp ridge on which they stood, leaving what was below in deep blue twilight. "I was afraid of that," Katie said, peering down. "What?" "It's a lot steeper and drier over here. I don't see any trees at all." "We'll worry about that in the morning." Luke stepped back from the edge and turned the animals around. "We'll camp back a ways." They set up camp in the shelter of a ring of big pines, using the tarpaulin as a sort of lean-to tent. Enough deadfall lay on the ground that they didn't have to use the firewood they'd packed on Salome's back. It could come in handy later. They both had noticed that trees in the valley bottoms were stunted and shrubby, poor choices for burning. "I'm soaked to the skin," Katie said, shivering, "and I'll bet you are too. If you'll give me your britches, I'll hang them up to dry." Once again she mourned the loss of her satchel and its contents, especially her comfortable britches and the wool shirt. Skirts were all very well and good--warmer than trousers for one thing -- but there were times when they were a distinct disadvantage. "I'm fine," Luke said. He was feeding the stock, using his hat to give them each a handful of their precious grain. She unfastened her skirt and let it fall, then her petticoat. Before she loosened her pantaloons, she wrapped the red shawl around herself. "There. I'm decent," she said, as she picked up the wet fabric. "Now give me your britches." "They're nearly dry." "Oh, for--Luke Savage, they're practically dripping. Now take them off and give them to me. Right now! I promise I won't watch." He refilled his hat and moved on to Salome. Well, if he wanted to be miserable, she would let him. She wasn't his mother, as

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html he'd reminded her several times. Once the animals were fed and watered, Luke wrapped one of the gunnysacks around his hips and gave her his britches. Katie bit her tongue. She just barely managed not to giggle at the sight of his long legs clad in red longjohns sticking out from under the short, makeshift skirt. After supper Luke spread a bed for her under the tarpaulin which he'd strung like a lean-to from a pine branch. The night would be warm enough that he would sleep comfortably under the stars. Warm, well fed, and too tired to argue, Katie willingly took the bed. Stars? For the first time she noticed that thin clouds were obscuring half the night sky. More bad weather? She hoped not. *** For the next three days the wind grew steadily colder, the clouds drooped continually lower and darker, but the snow held off. They'd made good time since their scrambling, difficult descent into this valley below the high ridge. A creek meandered along its bottom, sometimes forcing them to detour around an oxbow or a marsh, but the valley floor was level and fairly wide. Game was plentiful, too. Luke had shot a big-eared deer the first day and they were still eating off it. Even better, the stock seemed to like the taste of succulent winter buds on the shrubs that grew along the creek. All in all, they were in pretty good shape for a pair of damn fools. From what little his map showed, he reckoned that they'd come down this valley about eighteen miles as the crow flies, twice that on foot. The ridge they were now ascending might be the divide they had to cross, but he doubted it. According to the conductor, the rail line cut through a hellacious hill before Bear River City. The one they were climbing now didn't seem anywhere near as high. Maybe they'd somehow avoided it. He sure hoped so. It was bound to snow soon. Luke checked the sky again, the umpteenth time that morning. "Are you sure you know where we're going?" Katie said. He didn't even turn around. "Yep." "And do you know where we are?" "Pretty much." A long silence was broken only by the soughing of the wind and the clip-clop of a dozen shod hooves. "But do you know how to get from here to there?" she said. "Tarnation, woman! If you don't like the direction we're goin', maybe you'd better take point and lead us some other way." Katie's arm slid around his, hugging his elbow tight against her. "Don't be so touchy. I just asked a simple question." "And I gave you a simple answer. But you couldn't be satisfied, could you?" He jerked free of her and strode ahead. Katie trotted to catch up, her breath coming harder as she fell into step beside him again. "Luke, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound critical." "Either you trust me to get you there or you don't. And it sounds to me like

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html you don't." "I do. Honest." Again she tried to catch his arm, but he swung it out of her grasp. "It's just been so long since we've seen any sign of civilization." "It's gonna be a lot longer before we do, I reckon." "What do you mean?" She sounded worried. Luke immediately regretted his words. "What I mean is that it's still a hundred miles and more to Salt Lake City. There's not a lot between here and there, and what there is seems pretty easy to miss, when I look at the map." "But you said--" "What I said was, I had a pretty good idea that if we followed this creek to its head, we might find ourselves just over the hill from the Bear River Valley. I just don't know how high or how wide that particular hill is." As he spoke the last words, they topped the ridge and looked down into a narrow valley. On the other side was another hill, and behind that, still another. He waved his arm. "It's somewhere out there. So's the railroad. I just hope we'll strike one or the other before another storm hits." Katie stood silent beside him for long moments. Her cheeks were pink from the wind and cold. Below the heavy coat, her skirt blew ragged in the wind, showing scuffed boots and fraying petticoats. As she gazed into the distance, her teeth worried her lower lip, recalling to Luke the taste of her mouth. What a companion she was, despite her occasional questioning of his plans and actions. She might argue, but when convinced he was right, she put her whole self into cooperating. Most women he'd known would have dissolved into hysterics long since. Even the strong ones, like his ma, probably couldn't have pulled their weight like Katie had. If she was a man, she'd be someone to ride the trail with, that was certain. CHAPTER SIXTEEN They camped that night in a willow thicket, a crowded, uncomfortable camp, but sheltered from the cold, dry wind. Lafayette refused to squeeze among the dense osiers, but the two donkeys pushed their way inside and began nibbling at the tender branch tips. "We've still got food," Katie said as she pulled dried apples, cheese, and two worse-for-wear corn dodgers out of their provision bag. The corn meal she'd bought "just in case" was turning out to be one of her better ideas. She just wished she'd purchased more than two pounds. When she was a child, Katie and her older brother had often fed the whole family with the rabbits and grouse they'd caught in snares. Perhaps she should try her hand as setting some in the morning. Of course, they would have to stay over another day if she did, and she didn't think Luke would agree to that. She sighed, knowing that they couldn't take a chance with the weather. It was already mid-November, and more snow was on its way, probably in the next day or

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html two. Luke seemed ill at ease as he fed the animals and puttered around camp. Finally Katie could bear no more. "What has your tail in a twist?" she demanded. He turned around and stared at her. "What did you say?" Hot blood flooded her face. Her ma had told her she'd get herself in trouble someday, talking like Pa, and sure enough she had. Until she had lain with Luke, her words would have meant little to her, but now she realized how suggestive they were. "Nothing," she muttered. His chuckle surprised her. "Girl, your ma would purely take a bar of soap to your mouth, could she hear you talk sometimes." She ignored him, turning aside to shake out the blanket and her quilt. "We'll bed down together," Luke said as she crawled off the tarp and started spreading it out. "Not on your life." "You want to freeze your ar...yourself to death? Make one bed, damn it!" The last few nights they had slept separately at opposite ends of the stretched-out tarpaulin. She had been snug and warm wrapped in her coat and the quilt. As far as she knew, he had been the same in his wool blanket. Each night, though, the wind had grown colder and the clouds more threatening. Even protected by the dense growth of willows, she could feel its bite. The last thing she wanted to do was lie beside him through a long winter night. She just knew she wouldn't sleep a wink, not with him close and warm against her. Besides, he'd probably snore the whole night long. His rejection of her in the shelter still stung. Of course, common sense had reasserted itself, and she knew that they had played with fire. The trouble was, the flames still tempted her. Just looking at Luke brought a warmth to her belly, a fluttery, hollow feeling. If his sleeve happened to brush hers as they were unloading the donkeys, she felt it, even through her heavy coat. When he smiled, it was if he had given her a priceless gift. And when she thought of him going his way in Salt Lake City, she felt as if she was about to lose something precious. She wondered if he had any idea how she felt. If he cared. Glancing at him across the fire, she caught him staring at her. The heat of his gaze was scorching, its warmth lasting even after he quickly dropped his eyelids. There was her answer. Whether he cared for her or not, he wanted her. And he despised her for it. For a moment, Katie wished herself back on the train. Or safely in Salt Lake City. Anywhere but here, wherever here was. No. No, she didn't. Hamilton Steens Whitney III would have found her before she reached Salt Lake City. Without Luke's assistance--his protection, admit it--she would have been fair game. There was something about the man who'd followed her more than a thousand miles. She shuddered, and told herself to rein in her imagination. Whitney was just a

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html man, albeit a very determined one. Wasn't he? For the first time Katie appreciated what being very rich could mean. Her family was wealthy, even in an area where fortunes in gold and silver were dug out of the ground almost weekly. But they had neither the influence nor the apparently limitless wealth that her pursuer's family had. Whitney had known where she was staying in Chicago before she checked into the hotel. She was certain his appearance at the depot in Council Bluffs had been no accident. He'd arrived at Sidney before her, and probably Laramie, too. And Medicine Bow. To get there he had to have traveled on the same train she had, yet Luke had checked every passenger coach, every stock and baggage car. That meant Whitney must have bribed his way into the caboose, something that would never have occurred to her. And how much had he paid to ride the freight carrying explosives to Green River? Again a shudder shook her. Her pa had once claimed his Katie wasn't afraid of anything. Well, he'd be disappointed to learn she was scared stiff of Hamilton Steens Whitney III. *** Her back was warm when she woke sometime in the night. Her nose was so cold it felt as if it might break off. Yet Katie would not turn over and burrow against Luke. It would be too much like begging. Was this the sort of behavior that all noble men engaged in, or was Luke an extreme case? Both her parents, at different times and in different ways, had warned her of the male tendency to indulge in fornication when and where it was available and let the devil take the hindmost. Ma had admitted that sometimes a noble man would put a woman's welfare first--Pa had done that until Ma had been about ready to strangle him--but she hadn't told Katie what to do when it happened. All she'd said was that when a man like that came along, Katie was to grab him with both hands and not let go. Well, here he was. And he wasn't about to let himself be grabbed. She cupped her hands about her nose, wishing she could sleep with her head under covers. All her life she'd suffered from cold nose at night, and she'd never found a better way to combat it than to bury it against her sister's warm back. Ellen had never objected, although she'd often teased Katie about looking for a husband who'd be willing to put up with her cold nose. Would icicles form on the tip of her nose if she went to sleep? Like they did on Luke's moustache? She blew into her cupped hands again, feeling the moisture in her breath condense upon her face. "Cold?" His voice was soft, little more than a whisper. "Not really," she lied.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "You can't be any warmer than me," he said as he rolled over and wrapped one arm around her, "and I'm likely to freeze." Katie snuggled back against him, wishing the many layers of wool, linen, and leather to perdition. Then she silently laughed at herself. Tonight she'd rather be warm than almost anything else. Even her nose felt less icy. Lying beside Katie, pretending to sleep, made each second seem eternal. Luke counted her every breath, tried to ignore her restless turnings. Knowing she was as awake as he made the torment all the more keen. Her eyes held an invitation each time he looked into their blue depths. He could have her for the asking, could lose himself in her warm, willing body. She reminded him of raw recruits he'd known. Full of fiery enthusiasm for something new and exciting. They had seen war as grand and glorious--until they learned better. He reckoned Katie thought much the same of lovemaking--grand and glorious, delicious and forbidden. And, because he'd shown her how, perfectly safe and without disastrous aftereffects. For all her fancy book learning, Katie Lachlan was an innocent in the ways of men and women. She thought she could experiment with love and walk away unscathed. Luke knew better. For him it was already too late, yet he had no choice. Hewould walk away. But not unscathed. *** They topped a crest, toiled down the other side. Just enough snow had fallen yesterday that the going was difficult. The low-growing sagebrush, when covered with snow, gave a deceptively smooth appearance to the ground. Just let a foot-human or animal--break through its fluffy white covering, and it became a slick, springy trap for the unwary. Twice Sheba had fallen and lay thrashing on the ground until Luke could throw his coat over her head. Even then it took both him and Katie to unpack her and get her back on her feet. The second time it happened, Katie said, "Let's leave the wood here. It looks like there's plenty along the river." Luke, already loading the last of their dry cedar and pine back into the makeshift panniers, shook his head. "We're not likely to find logs this size along a stream. Not dry, anyhow. And it could be days yet before we reach a town." She frowned, but she didn't argue. Luke glanced at her as she held Sheba's head so the fool animal couldn't buck until he got the panniers fastened down. Katie looked tired. Worn clear to the bone. Her face was chapped from the drying blast of the cold wind, her skirt and petticoats torn and fraying from catching on rocks and twigs. Her pretty red shawl was in even worse shape. One corner was scorched where she'd used it for a potholder, and the fringe was tangled and knotted. She looked up at him and smiled. It was like sunrise on a spring morning. Once again Luke wondered if they wouldn't have been better off staying on the train, Boston dude or no. He swatted Lafayette lightly on the rump. "Git, you jug-head. We've got places to go."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Once again he wished he had a better map. Hethought they were within ten or fifteen miles of the railroad, but he couldn't be sure. Not until he stood on the rails and saw for himself. "This is too easy." Luke slowed so she could catch up with him. "Huh?" "I said, this is too easy." Her quick grin flashed. "Other than the snowstorm, we've hardly suffered. Don't you know that heroes always have to suffer before they get their heart's desire?" "What are you talking about?" "Oh, Luke, you know what I mean. Heroes go on quests and face all sorts of really impossible obstacles before they achieve their object. Like fighting dragons and monsters, getting captured by giants, things like that. Oh yes, they usually get thrown into a dungeon for a year or two." "They do, huh?" "And just when everything looks impossible, they defy impossible odds and break free, or slay the evil king, or whatever." Luke halted in his tracks, pulling Lafayette to a stop beside him. "And you think I'm one of these heroes?" "Of course. You rescued me, didn't you? And you bested the monster. At least I think Mr. Whitney's a monster, don't you? We were even in a dungeon-- sort of." "A dungeon. Uh-huh." "Well, the shelter where we sat out the snowstorm might be called a dungeon. It's got rock walls and all." Luke contained the grin that wanted to spread itself across his face. "You've got quite an imagination." Her smile was smug. "That's what my whole family says. But they also take me seriously sometimes. Like you should, now." "I'm supposed to take you seriously when you tell me I'm a hero? Katie, if I'd been a hero, we'd be in Salt Lake City by now. Not lost out here in the middle of nowhere." "Oh, Luke, you're wrong. And we're not lost. If we don't find the railroad today, we will tomorrow. I just know it." Luke thought of her words the rest of the afternoon. They followed a dry creek bed as it wound downhill and emerged into a broad valley just at dusk. At his insistence, they retreated about half a mile, until they were out of view of anyone traversing the valley. He wanted a fire tonight and there was no need to advertise they were here. It was snowing again. Luke cursed beneath his breath. "I'll need the tarpaulin," he told Katie as she was unrolling their bedding. Silently she handed it to him. She busied herself about the small campfire as he rigged the tarpaulin into a shelter, tying its ends to boulders on the hillsides. It would keep the worst of the snow off of them. Unless the wind came up. Then it would end up somewhere down in Utah Territory. They ate their meager meal while the animals munched on their grain. Luke was sipping his single cup of coffee when he said, "Nothing'stoo easy, Katie girl. And this ain't one of your fairy tales."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html She looked at him, brows raised in question. "Anybody who's been in the Army learns right sudden that when anything looks easy, it probably means something's gone wrong." "Like what?" she challenged. Like not wanting to keep my hands off of you."Like what happens if this snow keeps up. I haven't seen any sign of game for a couple of days. We've got enough grain for another day, maybe two." "Coffee, too." Well, hell!"Save the grounds, then." More than once he'd drunk coffee made from twice or thrice used grounds. It tasted like panther piss, but it got a man going in the morning. "I have been," she said. From the provision bag she pulled a packet and held it up. "We still have a bit of jerky. And a little honey." Digging deeper, "Oh, and here's some portable soup. We can always feed the animals out of our provisions, if we have to. They'd eat crackers, or dried apples." Luke shook his head. "Katie, one way or another, we've got maybe two days before things get real chancy. You'd better keep your fingers crossed that we find that railroad tomorrow, and that there's a town somewhere close by." He looked out at the softly falling snow and wondered, once again, what chance they had. Damn it to hell! I promised her I'd see her safe to her Pa, and if it's the last thing I do, I will. Katie knew Luke was far more worried than he let on. She was too, but she'd die before she admitted it. "What about the train stops below the Aspen tunnel," she said, trying to remember what she'd seen on the map. "Do you think they're real towns, or just construction camps?" "Camps, more than likely. But this close to End-of-Track, there's probably still folks there." "Well, then, we'll be fine. We can get on the train and go as far as they'll take us. Then we can catch the stage to Salt Lake City. Why we could be there in a couple of days!" And I'll have to say goodbye to you. "What if Whitney's waiting for us?" "He won't--" Her heart all but stopped beating. "Will he?" Luke shrugged. "Depends on how stubborn he is. You said yourself he was crazy. I don't reckon he thinks the same way most folks do." "He's not stupid. No, Luke, if he's anywhere, he'll be in Salt Lake City. And once we're there, Pa can deal with him." "I hope you're right." CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Cold and exhaustion had sent them both to sleep almost as soon as they pulled up the covers, but this morning was another matter entirely. Luke woke to an armful of warm, lilac-scented woman. She was snuggled close to him, her arm around his

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html waist and her face buried against his chest. Luke didn't want to move. Yes, he did. He wanted to lift her skirts and slide his hand up the smooth length of her thighs. He wanted to let his fingers find the hot liquid honey of her, to rouse her to the same painful state of desire where he dwelt almost all the time now. Instead he opened his eyes and greeted the gray, cold dawn. The tarpaulin was so heavily weighted with snow that it was lying atop them. Luke reared up against the edge of it, knocking some of the snow off, giving them room to sit up. Beside him Katie stirred. "I think it's warmer today." She pulled the quilt over her head and her next words were muffled and indistinct. "Don't know how you can tell," Luke said, rubbing a hand over his chin. A beard kept a man's face warm, most of the time, but when it got iced up, it was purely miserable. One of the first things he planned to do, when they reached a town, was have himself a shave. As if to remind them that he'd spent the night without shelter, Lafayette cut loose with a loud bray. Luke pulled his collar up and his hat down. "I'm comin'," he called. To Katie he said, "I'll get the fire started and some snow on for melting. See what you can do about breakfast." He didn't see that it was any warmer, but this morning sure was pretty. The snow lay soft and thick on every rock, every branch. The clumps of tall grass that had blown in yesterday's wind were bowed down, fat mounds like the big frosted cupcakes his ma used to make. His mouth watered. Right now nothing sounded quite so good as tucking into a big dinner of roast beef, gravy and steaming 'taters, with a slab or two of apple pie afterwards. Yesterday's ashes were soaked, but heat lingered in the ring of stones around them. Luke scraped the wet ashes away, down to bare soil. He slivered one of the cedar sticks, carefully made a teepee of dry twigs around it. Sheba, her hitch line dragging in the snow, came over and nudged his shoulder as he worked. "Yeah, I'll feed you," he promised as he patted her nose, "just as soon as I get some water on." That damned Salome had untied the knot again, just as she had the past three nights. Luke glared over his shoulder to where the smaller ass was half-hid behind Lafayette. Yep. Her line was loose too. He couldn't decide whether she just didn't like to be tied up, or if it was her natural-born contrariness. Katie emerged from the shelter, carrying the provision bag. She set it by the fire ring. "I'll be right back." "Take the rifle." "But--" "Take it, Katie." She made a face at him, but picked it up. Luke watched her until she disappeared around the shoulder of a low hill. She shouldn't have to squat in the snow. No matter that she'd lived in far more primitive surroundings than he had for most of her life. Katie Lachlan deserved

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html a better life than he could give her. Shit! What am I thinking? Katie climbed the shoulder of a hill just above the mouth of the gulch, edging around so she was never silhouetted against the white sky. More snow was on the way; she could smell it. So far there was only enough on the ground to make things pretty. Much more and they'd have trouble traveling. Shading her eyes, she peered to the south. They hadn't crossed the railroad yet, so that it had to be out in that direction. Somewhere. Motion caught her eye and she looked up to see a hawk swooping above the river. No, two of them, hunting the snow-covered land. Good luck, she told them, smiling,for all of us. Her stomach growled, and Katie turned to head back to camp. And then she heard a faint, far-off sound in the still, cold air. Distant, haunting, it was like nothing else she'd ever heard. The plaintive, lonely wail of a steam locomotive. Forgetting caution, she threw herself down the slope. "Luke! Luke!" By the time she'd run and slid the half-mile to their camp, she was breathless from shouting his name. "Did you hear it?" she panted, collapsing on the ground beside him. "Did you?" *** Once they left the hills, the ground looked level as a dinner plate, but it wasn't. Luke cursed under his breath as his foot went through snow, ankle deep into water no warmer than the thin layer of ice that covered it. Behind him he could hear Katie panting as she followed the trail he'd broken through the kneedeep snow. Narrow, shallow channels ran every which way across this marshy river bottom. All were filled with water under the ice. If it weren't for the snow, they'd be easy to see, but the white blanket hid them well. And every minute more fell. "It can't be much farther," Luke said over his shoulder. "We've come better than a mile." As the words left his mouth, his foot caught on something and he fell

flat. Instantly Katie was at his side, on her knees in the snow. "Luke? Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?" "Fine," he gasped. After a couple of deep breaths, he said, in a more normal tone, "I'm fine. Just had the wind knocked out of me." He rolled over onto

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html his back and winked at her. "But now that I'm down here, I think I'll take a rest." "You're hurt!" Her hands patted over his chest, his belly. "I sure am," he agreed. Slipping his hand around her nape, he pulled her face down to his. "Kiss it and make it better," he whispered, just before he took her mouth. Blessed God, she was sweet. Her lips were warm and soft, and they parted willingly under his gentle assault. Luke slipped his tongue inside and tasted her, a taste like no other. Uniquely Katie's. Even through layers of cloth and leather, he could feel her breasts pressing against his chest. If only it weren't so cold! He wanted to fill his hands with them, to rub his thumbs across the rosy tips until they hardened to delicious points. Then he would take each in turn into his mouth, suckling until she was wild and whimpering for him. She raised her head, leaving his mouth cold and empty. "Luke?" Her voice trembled. "Hmmm?" For a moment Luke considered pretending to be injured, just so she'd run her hands over him some more. Then reason returned and he gently pushed her upright. "Oh, God, Katie. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have--Let me get up." As he got his legs under him, he turned away, long enough to adjust his britches. Damn!It seemed like he was horny all the time. His hunger for her was worse every day. "Why did you stop?" she said, looking up from where she still knelt in the snow. "It was...nice." Her tone told how inadequate she found the word. Luke understood. There just weren't the right words to describe what happened when the two of them came together. What would it be like if they ever made love? Would the world come to an end in a shower of fire and shooting stars? If there was only some way he could find out, and walk away with a clear conscience. But Katie Lachlan was too fine a woman to treat that way. There was no question of his staying with her, once she was safe in her Pa's care. He wasn't the man a woman like her needed. There didn't seem to be anything he could do for her that she couldn't do just as well herself. Lafayette hadn't stopped when Luke fell, and was now about fifty yards ahead, climbing up a low bank. The two asses were just behind him, their gray coats almost disappearing in the falling snow. Katie drew ahead of him, walking in the animals' tracks. "It's the railroad!" she cried as soon as she reached the top of the bank. She threw her arms around Lafayette's neck. "Such a smart mule! You found the railroad for us!" Sheba nosed her arm. Katie turned to her with another hug. "Yes, you helped. You're all three wonderful." Salome tried to bite her, but Katie dodged away with a laugh. Luke climbed up to the rails and stood, looking around. What with the snow and the flat, white light, it was hard to tell if there was a sun in the sky, let alone where it was. "Let's see. We came in from the north, so we ought to head that way." He pointed. I hope. If he'd gotten turned around in the snow, they could be going the wrong direction. And if this storm got worse, there might not be another train for

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html a day or more. Katie turned a full circle, then stopped, looking back at the little of their trail that was still visible. "I think you're right." Picking up the lead lines for the animals, she pulled them off the tracks. "Let's go. I want coffee!" They trudged alongside the tracks until Luke's belly told him it was dinnertime. He couldn't tell if it was morning or afternoon by the light, but at least the snow had stopped falling. The last of the grain and a couple of slices of dried apple made a meager meal for the animals, so he gave them all the water in the canteens to fill their bellies. He and Katie each nibbled on chunks of portable soup. It was terribly salty, leaving his mouth feeling dry, like it needed a quart or two of water to wash it out. Against his better judgment, he scooped up a handful of snow and let it melt in his mouth. A few minutes later, he saw Katie do the same. Let there be a town soon. Katie wasn't worried that eating snow would make her cold. The way she was working, tromping through snow above her knees, she needed to cool down instead of warm up. She cupped another handful to her mouth and sucked on it, relishing the moisture it yielded. What would happen if they didn't find shelter before night? Her inner clothing was soaked with sweat. As soon as it grew dark, the temperature would drop and they wouldn't be able to travel. Once still, and wearing damp clothing, they would be in danger of freezing to death. She stumbled and almost fell, catching herself with a hand to Sheba's mane.So tired. Once more she found herself wondering if they wouldn't have been better staying on the train. And telling herself she wouldn't have missed this week with Luke for anything. Once more she stumbled. This time she fell into the snow and landed on a hard, angular something that left her elbow throbbing. Getting up was simply beyond her. She lay where she had fallen, surprised at how warm it had become. Perhaps another Chinook was coming. She closed her eyes.So very tired. "Katie!" She didn't move. Luke knelt beside her and pulled off his glove. Her face was even colder than his hand. A faint warmth showed that she still breathed, but that was about all. He shook her. "Damn it, Katie, wake up!" "Too tired," she whispered. He had to bend close to hear. "Rest here. You find town." One arm under her shoulders, he lifted her upright. She lolled against him like a rag doll. Luke laid the rifle down, then realized he'd never be able to pick it up once he was standing. "Don't move," he told Katie. "Be right back."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html The animals had kept walking and he had to go some distance to catch up. He kicked the snow off a low bush, hitched the lead lines around its stout stem. After stowing the rifle in its makeshift sling on Sheba's pack, he checked the loads on all three. They were secure. Even the asses were tired. Salome didn't try to bite him, and she only lifted one hind leg in a feeble imitation of a kick. She did start lipping at the knots in the lead lines, but without much real interest. Once back where Katie lay, Luke slipped his arms under her shoulders and her knees. And lifted. Tried to lift. His arms and back were willing, but his legs refused. He exploded with every foul cussword he'd ever heard. Katie stirred. "Luke? Somethin' wrong?" "Everything's fine, sweetheart. I just need you to stand up before you freeze to death." "Not cold." She rolled to her side, curled up with her hands tucked under her chin. "Katie girl, I swear if you don't get up right this minute, I'm a'gonna put snow down your neck. Then you'll be cold." She sat up, her lower lip in a pout. Luke had the awful urge to kiss it and forget everything else. "All the way," he said, putting one hand under her armpit and lifting. "C'mon!" She held back, but he was bigger and stronger. Once he had her on her feet, he aimed her toward the animals and gave her butt a firm swat. "Git along, there!" "Damn you, Luke Savage! I'm not a mule!" "You can cuss all you want as long as you keep walking." She did. Cussed and walked. Once they were caught up with the animals, Luke let her sit and rest while he shifted the almost empty-gunnysacks from Sheba's back to Lafayette's packsaddle. Getting Katie back on her feet took just about all the strength he had left. Once she was leaning against Sheba's flank, he said, "If you want to ride, you're going to have to help." "Help?" She sounded half asleep. "Yeah, help. I can't lift you, sweetheart, so grab hold of that mane and pull." Fortunately Sheba was patient and even-tempered, for the business of getting Katie astride her back was enough to try Job himself. Luke finally got a shoulder under her bottom and boosted her aboard. If he hadn't had hold of one of her ankles, she'd have gone right off the other side. At last she was set, her arms tied loosely together around Sheba's neck, her ragged skirt covering most of her legs. Luke retrieved his rifle. With one of the thongs, he tied its stock to his wrist, knowing that if his hands got much colder, he wouldn't even know if he dropped it. Then he took hold of Lafayette's pack. "Okay, you stubborn old mule. It's up to you, now." As if he understood, Lafayette moved out, walking a little slower than before, picking his way carefully among the snow-covered mounds and humps that grew increasingly common in their path. For what seemed like hours, Luke kept walking, his gradually weakening legs

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html pushing the snow aside as they had been all day. Once he stumbled. Patiently Lafayette waited while he pulled himself to his feet. "Gotta get Katie to her Pa. Promised," he mumbled. Ice coated his moustache and short beard, cracking and dropping off as his lips moved. He checked Katie and saw that she seemed to be sleeping. He prayed her sleep was natural, and not because she was freezing to death. Luke shut everything out of his mind except the necessity of putting one foot in front of the other and making sure they stayed within a few feet of the railroad embankment. He didn't even worry about Salome, walking along behind Sheba. If the donkey took it into her head to wander off, it was her bad luck. What was important now was getting to shelter before dark. Night came on slowly, shadows turning from blue to gray as the hidden sun set. The world grew more blurred and indistinct, filled with shifting shapes as errant breezes stirred the surface snow into swirls and flurries. There was ice on Luke's lashes now, tiny crystals shining around the edges of his vision. He didn't see the water tank until he all but ran into it. It sat tall upon upright log legs, a round wood tank about ten feet high, with a spout from its bottom stretching out across the tracks, waiting to top off the boilers of the big locomotives that crossed the high divides. Between its legs a square structure hunkered, and beside it was a pile of wood ties. He squeezed between the bracing timbers and circled the structure until he found a door, closed but with a latchstring hanging out. Pushing inside, he peered into the almost total darkness. It smelled dry and clean. There was a faint odor of coal oil, a memory of pipe tobacco. The low ceiling was barely above his head and the walls were thick, with ventilation holes cut in the top boards up near the flat roof. They could even have a fire. Katie was completely tractable as he pulled her from Sheba's back and pushed her between the water tank's legs and into the hut. Once he had her inside, he found his flint and steel and lit the last little stub of a candle he'd been hoarding. Wooden boxes were stacked against one wall, mostly covered by a ragged, stained tarpaulin. Otherwise the hut was empty. The dirt floor was dry, littered with straw and globs of dried mud, but otherwise clean. He propped the candle upright with some of the globs and guided Katie over against the boxes. Once she was seated, he took off his coat to wrap it around her. She seemed to be sleeping. Her breathing was slow and even, her body totally relaxed. Luke hoped she would be all right while he set up camp. The stack of ties and the hut together made a fairly effective windbreak. Once he'd unloaded the donkeys and Lafayette, he tied them to the tank's supports, then crumbled the last of the crackers into three pitifully small piles. Over each he broke a third of the remaining honeycomb, his mouth watering as he did so.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html A few of the ties were splintered and broken so Luke had no trouble getting firewood, even though his hands were now so stiff with cold that each move was an effort. He dragged a broken tie into the hut after he'd piled a good supply of kindling by the door. Then he checked the animals a last time, picked up the coffeepot and the battered bucket he'd filled with snow, and went inside. Katie was still sleeping. Her face felt warmer than his hand and her cheeks showed some color. The fire caught and Luke slowly fed it kindling until the end of the broken tie was burning merrily. He kept it in the middle of the room, not wanting to take a chance of burning the hut down about them. After a while he took the bucket of water out to the animals. When she returned, Katie's eyes were open. "Where are we?" she said. She sounded only half awake. "I don't know. A water tank. We followed the tracks for maybe five miles." He dropped the last of the portable soup into the steaming coffeepot and stirred. "How do you feel?" Katie rubbed her hands over her face. "Like I could sleep for another week." A yawn overcame her. "Luke, I'm sorry. I just couldn't stay awake." "It doesn't matter. Sometimes a body just can't keep going any longer. It happened to me more than once in the War. I got to where I could march for hours and wake up when we stopped. That's part of being a soldier. Or a cattleman." He remembered how he'd quickly learned to sleep on the back of a horse when he'd gone to Texas after mustering out. It was that or stay awake all the time. Katie looked around. "Where are the animals?" "They're out of the wind and mostly out of the snow. They'll be all right." The soup was simmering now and its meaty aroma filled the tiny room. Katie's stomach gave a hungry growl and she bit her lip in embarrassment. "Me too. It's been a long time since breakfast. But I'm afraid we haven't anything but the soup," he apologized, "and about half the whiskey." "What about the lemon drops?" Katie pulled the provisions sack toward her and dug inside. Sure enough, down under everything else, was the little paper bag of lemon drops. She held it up. "Dessert!" Luke's grin was wide and infectious. They ate their soup slowly, savoring each sip. Afterward they each took two lemon drops, knowing that the rest were all they would have for breakfast. "Maybe a train will come in the morning," Katie said after the last, lingering essence of lemon was gone from her mouth. She was rooting around in her fiddle case, trying to decide how prepared she should be when they reached civilization. If there was a chance Whitney might be in town, she might need more than the two little derringers. "Could be, if we don't get too much snow." "When it gets light, maybe we'll discover we're right in the middle of a town." "Not very likely." He rose to his knees and leaned over so he could see past the

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html raised lid of her fiddle case. "What the devil!" Katie twitched a scarf across the dark, well-oiled stock, but it was too late. He'd seen it. She pulled it out of the case, then unwound the double barrel from its swathing of silk and wool. "It's only my shotgun," she said, holding up the two pieces. With the ease of hours of practice, she checked the barrels for rust, then assembled the shotgun. Snapping it closed, she handed it to Luke. "Careful. It's a little touchy." "You've had this in there all along." His tone was accusatory. "Well, of course. It didn't just materialize out of thin air." "And you didn't tell me." Shrugging, she said, "I saw no need. Pa told me not to use it unless I had to, and so far I haven't." Luke's fingers stroked along the short, silver-chased barrels, traced the rich carving on the stock. "Pretty fancy gun," he said. He turned it and stroked it, his fingers touching the gun with the same gentleness as they'd touched her. Katie was unable to take her eyes off his hands. "You've got ammunition?" He laid it aside. And answered his own question. "Of course you do. That's why the fiddle case was so heavy." There was a note in his voice that sent a tiny frisson of apprehension through Katie. He sounded like he had that night he'd faced down Hamilton Steens Whitney III. He looked her up and down, his eyes hot and angry. "You didn't need anybody to help you get where you were goin', did you, Katie Lachlan? You could have took care of your own self just fine, couldn't you?" "Luke, I can explain--" "Be quiet. I'm goin' to bed." He wrapped his blanket around himself and lay down, his back to her and to the fire. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Luke had felt lower than a rattler's belly before, but not for years. Now he just couldn't stop seeing the hurt look in Katie's eyes when he'd snarled at her like a hydrophobic dog. There'd been no call for him to get his back up like that. Whether or not she carried enough firepower to stop a small army wasn't his concern. He didn't reckon she'd ever use that sawed-off shotgun on Whitney, no matter how much the fancy swell deserved it. Because Luke had been so tuckered last night, he'd gone to sleep as soon as he'd laid down. But this morning the memory had woke him up as sure as any bugle. He'd tossed and turned for what seemed like a day or so when he became aware that the two small vents up near the roof were visible. After a while he saw that the light wasn't getting any better, and he figured that it was full day. Probably snowing, just like yesterday. The small shed still held warmth from last night's fire. A little blowing and he had a big enough spark to kindle some shaved cedar--the last of the wood they'd

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html carried with them. But there were ties outside, and they'd burn well. Lafayette and the asses were tucked in against the shed wall, snug as bugs, but their water bucket was empty. Luke filled it with snow and took it inside to thaw while the used coffee grounds were steeping. Katie was awake and rooting through their provision sack. "Find anything?" Maybe if he pretended all was right between them, she'd play along. "A couple of stray coffee beans. Some cracker crumbs." She looked up at him, her half smile one of resignation. "I guess it's lemon drops for breakfast." There was no feed for the livestock. "Keep 'em. I'm not hungry anyhow." "I'm not either. Not really." As she folded the empty gunnysack, she chewed on her lower lip. For some reason the burlap seemed to resist her efforts. At last she had it folded. "Luke, are you still mad?" Not a rattlesnake's belly. Something even lower. An Ozark hellbender's, maybe? "Oh, he...heck, Katie, you ought to know I ain't. I blew up last night 'cause I don't like surprises. That shotgun...well, if I'd known you had it, I might have--" "Pa told me not to show it to anyone unless I planned to use it." Clutching the folded sack to her chest, she stared up at him. "There wasn't any time it would have done me any good. Not when I could get to it." He had to admit she was right. His rifle had been all the gun they'd needed since they'd taken up together. A shotgun was a poor choice for hunting, unless you were after ducks. Besides, lead shot from that sawed-off barrel would spread so quick it wouldn't kill a duck unless he stuck his head inside. On the other hand, at close range the shotgun would stop a bigger man than Luke, and stop him right quick. Her eyes were big and round, her mouth soft. All curled around the dirty gunnysack like she was, she looked little and dainty. Helpless and feminine. No wonder he'd yielded to her plea for help. Luke just wished she'd let him help her, once in a while. So far she'd taken fine care of herself. They spent little time getting packed. Without food and fuel, there was no longer the necessity to load the asses. When he'd checked the last knot on Lafayette's pack, he stepped back inside to see if they'd missed anything. The sun had come out, a pale, watery sun that bounced off the snow like the glare of a carbide lamp. That was why, when he went inside, he could, for the first time, see the label on the crates stacked against the far wall. Big black, stenciled letters.DYNAMITE . Even bigger red letters. DANGER. Sweat broke out on Luke's brow as he looked around the small space, less than ten feet across. And in the middle was their fire ring, with the last embers of their morning fire still glowing. He'd read about Dynamite, called by some the most useful invention in history. Far more powerful than gunpowder, easier to use when mixed with sawdust and pressed into cylinders. Hadn't he read it was sensitive to heat? Walking carefully, Luke went outside and scooped up a double handful of snow

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html with shaking hands. He laid it gently on the embers, went back for another. After the fourth load of snow, he went out and carefully pulled the door of the shed closed behind him. "Let's go," he told Katie, hoping she didn't hear the quaver in his voice. She was busy making over Sheba and paid him no attention. New snow had fallen during the night. Before she'd gone ten steps, Katie was wishing once more for her britches. With each step she had to raise her knees almost hip high, even though Luke and the animals were breaking trail for her. Finally she pulled her skirt up between her legs and tucked it into her waistband. She looked ridiculous, what with the bulk of two petticoats underneath, but at least she could walk. They'd gone nearly a mile when she heard again the wail of a steam locomotive. Turning around, she saw black smoke billowing on the horizon, shredding in the light wind. She jumped up and down, clapping her hands. "Luke! Oh, Luke, look!" He swept her into his arms and swung her around. "I see it sweetheart! I see it!" While he had her there, she kissed him. Not the slow, deep kiss he wanted, but a resounding smack on the cheek. It was safer that way. The train sat for a while taking on water, darkening the sky with its smoke. Finally they heard another drawn-out wail and saw the smoke change from lazy, slow billows to short, fat puffs. In less than a minute, the locomotive nosed around the long curve behind them. Katie had never seen a more welcome sight. She waved, and after a moment, so did Luke. With a squeal of brakes, the train stopped beside them. "Need a ride?" the engineer said, leaning out of his cab. "Talk to the Brakeman." He jerked a thumb toward the back of the train, a line of freight and flatcars reaching out of sight. "How far's the nearest town?" Luke called back. "Couple of miles, maybe. You can't see it because that there hill's in the way, but it's right ahead." "Where are we?" Katie said. "Is it Hilliard?" "That where you was headin'?" Shaking his head, the engineer again indicated the rear of the car. "You missed it. Next stop's Bear River City." He scratched his chin. "You folks might be better off headin' back to Hilliard, all things considered." "Couple of miles, you say?" Luke asked. "'Bout that, I reckon. You wantin' a ride?" "We'll walk it," Katie said, not waiting for Luke to make the decision. "It'd take less time than loading the livestock." "Suit yourselves," the engineer said. He scratched his chin again as he stared down at Katie. "Beggin' your pardon, miss, but it ain't what you'd call a decent sort of place for a lady." "Does it have a store where we can buy food?" "It does, and a hotel and a restaurant too. Even got a newspaper." Once more his

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html fingernails rasped across his chin. "Only thing is, there's more desperadoes and shootists and what-have-you in Bear River City than in any Hell I've seen along the line." Turning to Luke, Katie said under her breath, "Then it's not the sort of place to expect Mr. Whitney, is it?" She ignored his worried frown. "How far can a person ride on the railroad?" "Wal, we ain't takin' passengers any farther than Evanston, another twelve, fifteen miles along. There ain't no more towns beyond." "We'll head there, then," Luke said. "I'm obliged to you for the information." "Sure you don't want to take passage?" Katie shook her head slightly at Luke's questioning look. "We're sure," he told the engineer. "But thanks." "Any time." Punctuating his wave with a blast of the whistle, the engineer put the train into motion. As it pulled away, Luke turned to Katie. "Now what the he...heck was that all about? We could have ridden to Evanston in comfort." "And what were we going to eat in the meantime? All of us?" "Aw, shoot, I never even thought about there not being any feed on the train." Smiling up at him, she said, "That's all right. I wouldn't have either, if Sheba hadn't been trying to eat my coat for the last half mile." Bear River City wasn't much to look at, but it was a bustling little place. Not much of the bustle seemed to do with the railroad, though. Luke counted a couple of restaurants, three saloons, a bakery and a laundry in the first hundred feet of the town's only street. Most of the buildings were log, but some were of sawn timber, with high false fronts and real glass windows. All looked as if they'd been put up in a hurry, without much regard for fancy. There was a forest of signs, each set perpendicular to the front of the building. They extended six or eight feet out into the wide, dirt street, giving the impression of a sidewalk along either side. Some of the signs were ornately lettered, others simply stated what was being sold inside.Liquors. Hardware. Food. Saloon. Baths. "It's bigger than I expected," Katie said. He glanced down at her. "Yeah. But they'll have feed at the livery stable, wherever it is. I don't see the hotel, though." A place that advertisedBeds was not for a lady. "Let's ask." She tugged on Sheba's lead line and took off up the street before Luke could stop her. He loped after her and grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "Hold on there, now. Let's think about this." "There's nothing to think about. We need a place to stay. So we'll ask. After we stable the animals." Not releasing her, Luke said, "I had it in mind you'd stay outside of town whilst I did that. Then I'll reconnoiter some, see what the place has to offer." "Of all the--" Her frown told him what she thought of his plan. "Luke there

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html is nothing in this town I haven't seen before. I grew up on the frontier, remember?" "Yeah, I remember you sayin' you'd never seen a town until you moved to Boise City. What were you then? Fifteen?" "Fourteen," she admitted. "And there was an Army fort there, wasn't there?" "Well, yes..." "So there was law and order. Of a sort, anyhow." Waving his hand toward the other end of the town, he said, "Didn't you hear what the engineer said? Desperadoes and shootists and God only knows what else. This ain't anything like the 'frontier' you grew up on. Trust me, Katie. I've seen places like this before." She pulled free of his grasp. "Oh, fiddlesticks. You're always expecting the worst. I'm hungry." Luke wasn't willing to sling her over his shoulder and carry her out of town so he did the next best thing. He followed her. Behind him Lafayette made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a horselaugh. They stabled the stock first. To Luke's relief, the hostler seemed a decent sort, and his hay had no smell of mildew. "We'll be here overnight," he told the man. As they were leaving the stable, he turned back. "Where's the best place to put up?" The hostler looked Katie up and down. "Don't reckon there is a 'best place' hereabouts. But Ma Jordan's boarding house is where I'd put my woman, if'n I had one. Last I heard, though, she was full up to the rafters." "We'll give it a try. Thanks." He shouldered his bedroll and offered to carry the fiddle case. Katie refused, as always. They saw the NO ROOM sign before they reached Ma Jordan's boarding house. "I saw a hotel," Katie as they turned back toward the main street. "There!" She pointed. The sign offered beds and baths and a dining room. It had a second story, but was still not much bigger than some of the saloons. As they drew closer, Luke's misgivings increased. None of the windows were intact, and only about half of them retained any glass at all. The front door had been kicked in at some time or another, and was held together by a board nailed diagonally across it. "I don't think this is a good idea." Katie bristled. "Do you have any better suggestions?" But she gnawed her lower lip as she gave the hotel a second look. Then she straightened and mounted the single step to the narrow front porch. Luke followed. The dining room and the lobby were one and the same, occupying what appeared to be about half the ground floor. Katie was already talking to a young man standing behind a waist-high counter. Before Luke was across the room, he heard her say, "We'll take it." Not waiting for him, she trotted up the stairs, a big brass skeleton key in her hand. Luke went along behind, more reluctant with each step. There were two doors on either side of the narrow hall. Inside the second

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html room on the left, Katie was standing in the narrow space between a scarred brass bed and an upended crate on which sat a chipped china washbowl and a tin pitcher. She smiled when Luke came in. "See. This will do just fine," she said, although her voice seemed a little unsteady. At least the room boasted one of the windows with glass still in it. The cold wind whistled through three circular holes in the glass--small caliber, fortunately. "Fine," he said, not wanting to argue any more. Not that it ever did him any good anyhow. "Give me my key." "Um, well...Luke, I...This is your room too. They only had one vacancy." "The hell you say!" "Well, it's not as if we haven't slept together before," she snapped. "Good heavens, Luke, don't be so prissy!" Once again he looked about. There was enough space between the bed and the window for him to spread the bedroll. And itwould be warmer than outdoors. The hotel served only suppers, so they went down the street to the New England Restaurant. Beans and beef were the only offerings. "It sure beats lemon drops," Katie said, digging into the big bowl that the waiter had slapped before her almost as soon as they were seated. "Or portable soup," Luke agreed, between bites. He sipped the coffee. Not bad. Luke could see out the narrow, dirty window from where he sat. Although the street wasn't anywhere near crowded, there were steady streams of people hurrying along it in each direction. Most were men, but occasionally a woman went by. Some were clearly sporting girls, but there were enough of the respectable sort that he started to relax. Surely a town with a number of family men couldn't be as bad as they'd heard. "More coffee?" Mouth full, Luke nodded. He'd eaten better beans, but none had been flavored with hunger as these were. One of the passing men had a familiar look to him. Luke watched him out of sight. Damn! Where had he seen that face before? "Something wrong?" He looked back at Katie. She held the coffee cup between her hands, sipping at it, her dark blue eyes warm and friendly. "No. Nothing, really." "I think I'm almost warm," she said, breathing in the steam from her coffee, "for the first time in days." Aw, hell!"Katie, I'm real sorry--" "Nonsense. It wasn't your fault the weather turned bad. We're here and we're safe, and that's all that matters. I've been cold before." "Yes, but..." "Luke, never mind. It's not as if I froze or anything. You took very good care of me."

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But Luke wasn't paying her any attention. His gaze had been caught by another passerby. A tall, horse-faced man in a heavy wool greatcoat, a silver- gray derby. "What is it? What do you see?" she demanded. She turned on the bench and peered through the open door way. "Oh, no!" "Turn around!" "But Luke, it's him!" She whispered, sounding real scared. "Hamilton Steens Whitney III." "Shut up," he told her, his voice low and hard. "And turn around before he sees you." As if he'd heard, Whitney smiled in their direction. CHAPTER NINETEEN Before Luke could react, another well-dressed fellow stepped into view. He shook hands with Whitney and they walked away together. Immediately Katie was on her feet, the fiddle case swinging at her side. "We've got to get out of here." Luke grabbed her wrist. "Sit down and be quiet!" "But -- " "Damn it, will you be silent! You start yellin' and they'll see us. Is that what you want?" Katie slowly sank down, never taking her gaze from the doorway. After a long pause, she turned to Luke. "We've got to get out of town. Before he finds us. Please, Luke!" Fear was writ clearly on her face. Luke could not believe that this pale, frightened woman was capable, fearless Katie Lachlan. Reaching across the table, he took her hand between his. It was cold, trembling. "Sweetheart, calm down. He couldn't see into here. It's too dark. You're safe." She tugged. "Only for now. Please, Luke, let's get the animals and go. It's only ten miles or so to Evanston. We can be there by dark." Without releasing her hand, Luke moved around to sit beside her. He wrapped his arm about her shoulders and pulled her close. "Sweetheart, we'd never make it ten miles before dark, even if we were to leave this minute. We're going to go back to the hotel and you'll hole up there. I'll see what I can do about getting us on tomorrow's train, without making a fuss. With any luck, we'll sneak out of town with no one the wiser."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Slowly she relaxed, softening in his arms. The waiter raised an eyebrow at them when he came to clear away their dishes, but he didn't say anything. After a while Luke pulled away from Katie. When she didn't cling, he went to the curtained doorway at the back of the room and stuck his head through. The waiter and a middle-aged woman were sitting at a small table, playing cards. "You got a back way out?" Luke asked. A hooked thumb was the only reply. Neither card-player looked at him. Luke went back to get Katie and led her through the kitchen and to the back door. Just before he pulled it closed behind them, he turned back. "We weren't in here today. You've never seen us." The woman shook her head slightly. The waiter shrugged. "None of my business," he said, "what folks come in here." He looked back at his cards. "Let's hope they'll keep their mouths shut," Luke said, as they crept along the back wall of the restaurant. He peered around the corner. The only men he saw wore work clothes. "All clear. Just don't run. Folks notice when you do." They walked rapidly to and across the street. His eyes constantly shifting back and forth, Luke tried to see if anyone was taking undue notice of them. As they went between the laundry and the Railroad Saloon, he looked back. Everybody in sight seemed intent on his own business. It was a simple matter to creep along behind the buildings until they came to the hotel. Luke knocked at the back door and eventually the man who'd checked them in came to answer it. He opened the door a crack and peeked through. "Go around to the front." Luke held up a quarter-Eagle. The door widened and they slid through. "You go on up to the room," he told Katie. "I've got a couple of things to do." For an instant he was tempted to kiss her goodbye. To promise her he'd keep her safe. Gettin' mawkish in your old age, he told himself, and kept his mouth shut. She looked up at him questioningly, but did as he told her. Luke took a moment to marvel. Katie had never done what he said without arguing before.She must be really scared. I sure hope Mick was able to find out if they're after me. Walking toward the depot, Luke noticed something that hadn't been quite so apparent before. There was none of the good-fellowship you often saw in a small town. Men avoided each other's eyes and their movements were almost furtive. Women walked in pairs or with their men, and none of them strolled. Not a child was in sight, not even a babe in arms. Most of the men on the street now were of the sort he'd become all too familiar with in Kansas cattle towns. Shootists and ruffians. The sort who'd kill a man for the price of a meal and a whore. Like Japhet and Kiah Breedlove. Luke would give a pretty penny to know for sure that they were in town. He was pretty sure the fellow on the street had been the same one he'd seen back in Sidney. The one who looked like the ghost of Japhet Breedlove.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html He'd still been on the train when Luke and Katie had left it, but that didn't mean he'd kept going west past here. No doubt about it. Time to watch my back. With his hat pulled low over his eyes, his collar raised as if to keep him warm, Luke walked briskly but gingerly along the street. The snow here was dirty, trodden down, and turned to ice around every hitching post and water trough and along a narrow walkway against the buildings. The telegraph office was locked. A sign on the door said 'Open All Day,' so he knocked. After a minute or so the torn piece of canvas covering the small window was yanked aside. A suspicious face peered out. "I need to send a telegram," Luke said, opening his coat to show he wasn't armed. "Just a minute," the man said, his voice faint through the door. It seemed to take him a long while to open the door. Luke heard chains rattle, a bolt being shot, and the scrape of a heavy bar against wood. What's going on here? The telegraph operator locked the door behind Luke, slipped behind the counter, and slid a blank telegram form across. "I'm particular about who I let in here," he said. "There's some in town ain't to be trusted." "Don't blame you," Luke told him. He wrote quickly, handed the message across. "Can you send this to both Chicago and Kansas City? I'm not sure where my friend will be." "It'll cost you twice." "That's all right." Digging into his pocket, Luke pulled out some coins. He paid double the posted price of a telegram, then leaned on one elbow. One small gold piece still lay on the counter. "Folks seem skittish around here. Any particular reason?" "Skittish?" The fellow's voice broke on the word. "I don't know what you mean." Luke gave the coin a little push. "Oh, I think you do. It's like everybody's waitin' for something to happen. Kind of like the calm before a battle." One shaking hand reached out, then retreated. "We're no wilder than any other End-of-Track. There's just those who'd like to see a little law and order hereabouts." "You don't have a detachment of soldiers here?" "Durant, he don't see any need for it. Says Bear River City ain't gonna last anyhow." Luke recognized the railroad construction boss's name, but couldn't see what he had to do with keeping order in the town along the line. "So who keeps order then?" "Nobody, really. Nobody wants to take on the sheriff's job. The saloon owners and the gamblers, there's just too many of 'em. It's gettin' so a body takes his life in his hands goin' out after dark." He shuddered visibly. "Had five killin's yesterday, seven the day before. Them Freemans are always writing about how we need a vigilance committee, but nothin' ever comes of it." Luke didn't blame the fellow for keeping his door locked. Bear River City

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html sounded worse than the wildest cattle town. "Who are the Freemans?" "They own the newspaper. Come out here after the War. According to them, the South won." "I see." Luke slid the coin the rest of the way across. "Thanks for the information." As he laid a hand on the doorknob, a thought struck Luke. Quickly he printed a short message on another telegram form, chewed the pencil a moment, then wrote in the only address he had. "Send this one, too," he told the clerk. The closing door just about scraped his heels as he left. He heard the bar drop, the chains and locks rattling. The depot door around the corner of the building was locked, too. A sign on it said to leave freight with the telegraph operator. Passenger fares could be purchased on the train. Katie had been right to be scared, he thought as he hurried back to the hotel. This town wasn't a healthy place to be. *** Katie stood beside the window and watched Luke walk away. She was careful to stay out of sight, so she was unable see where he went, but it wasn't really important. If he wasn't back in an hour, she would do what she had to do. It was time to ask for her father's help. He must be in Salt Lake City now. He could be here in three or four days, if he pushed it. Surely she could stay in the hotel room that long, with Luke to fetch food for her. I could stay here as long as need be, if I knew Pa was on his way. Luke would do his best to protect her from Whitney, but he was just one man. Whitney had at least one thug to do his bidding. Besides, her pa was far more experienced than Luke, far wiser. When Katie was a child, she'd believed her pa could do anything. Now she knew he wasn't all-powerful, but he came as close to it as any mortal man. Against him and Luke together, Whitney wouldn't have a chance, no matter how many lackeys he brought with him. But first I've got to get word to Pa. The clouded mirror on the wall showed how ragged her clothing was. In the fiddle case, she had a figured gray shawl, an old favorite, so faded and worn that she had seriously considered discarding it. She pulled it out and wrapped it around her head and shoulders, making sure it concealed her hair. Perhaps if she kept her head down and moved clumsily, she could pass for an old woman. As she closed the fiddle case, she paused, thinking. It had been in her hand when Whitney caught them back in Rock Springs. And a woman carrying a fiddle case was unusual enough to be remarkable. Reluctantly she set it on the floor and slid it under the bed. Surely she had waited at least an hour. She took one last look out the window. No Luke. Not many people on the street at all.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Quickly she checked the loads in the derringers, made sure they would slide easily from her pockets. If only there were some way she could carry the shotgun without its being obvious. Well, she'd just have to be careful. One hand on the doorknob, Katie halted. Luke would worry if he came back and found her gone. Was that pencil still in her reticule? It was. And one of her calling cards, a little the worse for wear. "Gone to tel. off.," she wrote. "Don't worry back soon." Folding the slip of pasteboard, she wrote Luke's name in bold letters on the outside, right over the faded print. Then she tucked it in the corner of the mirror. Butterflies fluttered in her midriff as she slipped into the hall and pulled the door shut behind her. Maybe she was being foolish, not waiting for Luke's return. She hesitated. Stop dithering. If you ever needed Pa, now's the time! The clerk was nowhere in sight as Katie passed through the restaurant, nor was anyone else. At the door she stopped, took a deep breath, and slumped her shoulders. Walking as if her knees and hips were stiff with rheumatism, she turned toward the depot. With every step she wanted to break into a run. Although she kept her face lowered, she looked at each passerby with suspicion. Any one of them could be Whitney's lackey. She passed the office of theFrontier Index , a saloon, the Blue Moon-- saloon or bawdy house?--keeping close to the fronts of the buildings. The few men she encountered stepped out of her way. A few more buildings, including the restaurant where they'd had dinner, then a long, empty stretch to the depot. Even though a sign on the door clearly stated it should be open for business, the telegraph office was closed. Its door was locked tight and a blind hung behind the window. Katie knocked and rattled the knob, to no avail. Frustrated, she went to the depot door, only to discover that it, too, was locked. Back she went to the telegraph office, but no one answered her renewed knocking. Hellsfire!Immediately she tasted a memory of the soap Ma had used whenever she mimicked her brothers' language.I guess it's up to me to get myself out of this fix. She turned and started back toward the hotel.I sure hope Luke finishes his business soon. We've got to get out of town before Whitney finds us. There seemed to be more people on the street than when she and Luke had come into town. More men. And fewer women, she realized.I'm the only one. At last she reached the hotel and stepped inside the shadowy lobby. "My dear, how delightful to find you here," Hamilton Steens Whitney III said. "I have been looking for you." "This the girl?" another man said, from where he leaned against the newel post. He was whip slim, dressed like a cowman. Pearl-handled revolvers rode in tied-down holsters at each hip. Although his features were youthful, there was a coldness about his smile and ice in the pale blue of his eyes. Before Katie could react, Whitney stepped forward and took her arm. "It is indeed my long-lost wife. Come, my dear, your suffering is over." His grip on her arm was like a steel shackle. Katie jerked back, but not

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html free. "Let me go!" She tried to kick him, but her skirts, still damp from this morning's travel, tangled about her legs. Whitney's companion caught her about the waist and held her while Whitney grabbed for her flailing left arm. Between them, they effectively disabled her. "Help!" she cried. "Please, somebody help me!" Then she yelled, the high, piercing sound that she and her brothers had called their war cry. "The lady doesn't seem happy to see you, Whit," the young cowman said, never letting go his hold on her. "Maybe we'd better get her upstairs before someone gets curious." "I have told you not to shorten my name, Breedlove. Have you anything I can tie her hands with?" Katie twisted against Whitney's grip, tried to kick the man Whitney had called Breedlove. Her pistols might as well be on the moon, for there wasn't a chance she could get a hand on either one. Once more she screamed, again and again, until her throat burned. It did her no good, not any more than fighting the two men did. Soon both her wrists were enveloped in Whitney's long-fingered hand, and Breedlove was able to loop a leather thong around them. Tight. What kind of town was this that a woman's screams were ignored? Katie's voice faded into hoarse sobs. If only she'd listened to Luke. "Hold her while I search her," Whitney said. "She may have a gun." Hiss hands patted over her bodice, lingering on her breasts, squeezing and stroking. It was like something slimy crawling over her. She spat, but missed his face. "Let me go, you filthy bastard," she panted. He smiled, but didn't answer. His hands moved lower, to her waist and beyond. "Ah, here we are," he said, as he reached into her pocket and pulled out one of her pistols. "Is this all?" Her face must have answered him, for he checked the other side and retrieved the second pistol. "Really my dear, how unstylish. Definitely not appropriate accouterments for a lady." He handed them to Breedlove, who took them without loosening his grip on Katie. "Take her upstairs?" Breedlove said. He shifted his hold so that her forearms were pulled tight across her waist, making the thong binding her wrists cut cruelly into her skin. "The livery stable, I think. Muldoon can watch her." He pulled the shawl from her head and draped it over her shoulders and her bound wrists. They walked up the street, Whitney nodding and smiling to several men. Katie tried to speak to the first one they met, but her words turned into a squeak when she felt the sharp prick of a knife in her ribs. "I'd hate like the dickens to see Whit embarrassed, ma'am," Breedlove murmured behind her ear. "So why don't you just walk along quietly and give me no trouble?" There was something about his voice, soft and mild, that frightened Katie far more than an out-and-out threat would have. The hostler was nowhere in sight when they reached the livery stable. Sheba whickered softly when she saw Katie. Did Whitney know about the animals? She hoped not. Breedlove pushed her into one of the two box stalls. Whitney followed, saying, "I'll stay with her. Go get Muldoon, but be quick about it. I'm having dinner

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html with the Freemans and don't want to be late." "Why are you doing this?" Katie made her voice as steady as she could. "I haven't done anything to you." "I thought I'd made my intentions clear, Miss Lachlan. You will become my wife, just as soon as we can return to Boston." "You're crazy!" His open palm struck her cheek with enough force to knock her off her feet. As she fell sideways, her face scraped along the rough, splintery frame of the stall. "Never,never say that to me again. Do you understand?" Katie nodded, fighting the tears that welled into her eyes. "See that you do. Now, I am certain that we will get along nicely, once you learn your place. I am a generous man, and will keep you in a style befitting a queen. You will be the happiest of women." Unable to think of an answer that would not anger him, Katie said nothing.Luke! Where are you? Why didn't I listen to you? *** Luke stopped at Fries' Mercantile to pick up something they could eat in the hotel room. The storekeeper waited on him without a sign of friendliness, almost as if he wished Luke had never come in. "Interesting town you got here," Luke said as he accepted his change. No answer. "Not exactly what you'd call a friendly place though." The storekeeper dropped the wedge of cheese and the package of crackers into the gunnysack Luke had handed him. He avoided looking at Luke. "Seems to me if a man wanted customers, he'd make those who came into his store welcome." "We don't want your kind here." "My kind? What the hell do you mean, my kind?" "Nothin'" the man said, shaking his head. "I didn't mean nothin'." He put the packet of dried apples in the gunnysack and slid it across the counter. "Jest go. Please." Luke took it and turned away. At the door, he looked back. The storekeeper was watching him suspiciously. Outside, Luke stood for a moment, thinking.Your kind. What had the man meant? Scratching his chin, Luke suddenly had a hint. He was unshaven, dirty, and wind burned. While he didn't carry a handgun, the big knife at his belt showed him to be a man ready to face pretty much anything. The engineer had said Bear River City was full of desperadoes and shootists. The storekeeper must have thought Luke was one of them. As if to corroborate the engineer's words, a shot rang out, followed by three more. Luke stepped out from the side of the Mercantile and looked down toward the depot. A body lay in the street, its blood turning the dirty snow red. CHAPTER TWENTY Luke called out, "Here's your supper," as he shouldered the door open. When he

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html saw how dark the room was, he said nothing more and, as quietly as he could, pulled the door closed behind him quietly. Poor girl. She must be dead tired.He tiptoed across to set the gunnysack of food against the outer wall. When he turned, thinking to go back out and see what information he could pick up, his eyes had adjusted to the dim light. He could see that the bed was empty. Katie was not napping. Katie, in fact, was not in the room at all. Damn it all to Hell! Where'd she go?He stood still, moving only his head, peering into the shadowy corners. Except for Katie, the room was exactly as he'd left it. Undisturbed. One careful, silent step took him to the crate. He lifted the pitcher. Half empty. So Katie had stayed long enough to freshen up, at least. Replacing the pitcher in its bowl, he knelt to check under the bed. A forgotten sock, ignored so long it only smelt of dust, hid in one corner. And the fiddle case, pushed just far enough under to be out of sight. And a scrap of paper. Squinting, Luke read the brief message. "Damn that woman!" Luke rose, stifling the urge to turn the air blue with curses. The note made it appear Katie had left the room of her own accord. But he couldn't be sure. Unrolling his bedroll, he lifted out his rifle and loaded it. Reluctantly. He'd looked at far too many men over the sight of a gun. On the other hand, a man on an errand like his would be a fool not to go armed in a land where the laws were few and not always enforced. Trouble was brewing in Bear River City. And if he knew Katie Lachlan, she'd land smack dab in the middle of it. One hand on the door, Luke turned back and pulled the fiddle case from beneath the bed. He thumbed the catches. Inside wrapped in a silky petticoat, was the sawed-off shotgun. Spots of gun oil darkened the satin. Luke stared down at the gun for a long time.Stupid little fool. She was as smart as the day was long about some things, as green as grass about others. Thinking her silly little popguns were adequate protection in a town like this. "I wish somebody would teach her a lesson," he muttered. Fear coiled in his gut at the possibility that someone was, right at this moment. Leaving the shotgun where it was, he closed the fiddle case and shoved it far back under the bed. Silently he eased out the door, rifle slung from his shoulder. He walked quietly to the window overlooking the alley behind the hotel. He slid the window open and leaned out, looking each way. There were no women in sight. Not having expected to see Katie strolling down the alley, he still felt an aching sense of loss. She was in trouble. He just knew it. Must be going on for four o'clock, Luke decided, wishing he could see as far as the depot. In a little over an hour it would be full dark. There was no moon, so

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html the night would be darker yet. He went downstairs, nodding to the clerk who was setting tables for supper. Outside he paused, then turned around and went back inside. "You see the woman I came in with anytime this past hour?" he asked the clerk. The man didn't look up as he fiddled with a stack of plates, moving it to the center of the table, then back to one end. "Nope. I ain't seen nobody." "You sure?" "You heard me. It ain't my job to watch who comes and goes around here." He sounded scared. Luke figured he had a reason to be, livin' in Bear River City. "Well, if you see her, tell her I'll be back in a while." The clerk nodded, but still didn't meet Luke's eye. Just like the grocer. Luke gave up. Either the man really hadn't seen Katie, or he was too scared to say he had. Either way, Luke wouldn't trust him enough to ask the time of day. Outside again, he watched the street. Not many folks out, now. Those who were differed from this afternoon's crowd. These men--and men were all he saw-walked boldly. Those who didn't stagger from saloon to saloon. His options were few. He couldn't go to all the saloons in town asking for a little bit of a woman, black hair and big blue eyes, without asking for trouble. So he'd seek Katie at the respectable places, look for Whitney at the others. If the bastard didn't already have Katie, he soon would. That was just the way things always worked out. As bad as they could be. Once more Luke pulled his hatbrim low, his collar high. The clerk at the mercantile hadn't seen a woman fitting Katie's description. Neither had the dour couple at the R.R. Restaurant. The telegraph office was honestly closed this time, dark and empty, although its posted hours said it should still be open. The depot was locked up tight. No train due until early tomorrow. Luke stood before the telegraph office, looking the length of the street. Rectangles of light lay on the dirty snow, pointing to the doors and windows of saloons and restaurants. Few men were in sight now, other than those standing around the open doors of the Railroad Saloon, the Club Room, and some of the other saloons. Clear down at the other end of the street, he could see movement, but couldn't be sure what was happening. There were yells, and then a shot. Another. A whole fusillade of shots, some from long guns. More yells, until voices blended together in a roar of excitement. Like a pack of hunting hounds. What was their prey? Where was Katie? *** Luke had lost count of how many saloons he'd looked into, but it seemed like they were every second door. They all looked the same. Bare wood walls, a bar that was little more than a couple of planks set on sawhorses, mismatched tables and chairs that looked like they'd been in every Hell-on-Wheels between Omaha and here. If there was a piano, it was out of tune. If there were women, they showed about as much interest in the liquor as the men. The only thing that brought a gleam of interest to tired eyes that had seen everything was the gleam of gold. He stood looking across the barroom, hoping to find a familiar face. If not Whitney's, then his henchman--Murphy? Muldoon? Instead he found himself looking into the face of the man he'd killed. Before he could react, two men, one tall, one short, both dressed in assorted remnants of gray uniforms, came up behind the ghost. Luke laid his hand on his rifle, but didn't lift the barrel. "See, Malachi, I told ye I seen him," said the short man who wore an Arkansas

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html toothpick in his belt. Hezekiah Breedlove. Rapist and murderer. "It's him, sure enough," the big one said. "He's the one shot pore Japhet down in cold blood." The ghost said, "I heard it was a fair fight. That right, mister?" "He drew first," Luke said. "Shot first, too." "What was the fight about?" "Damned if I know," Luke replied. "He asked me to lend him a dollar and I was diggin' for one. Next thing I knew, he'd drawed and shot." Once again he felt the cold breath of the bullet as it whined by his ear. Too close for comfort. "I yelled, and he cussed at me, said he'd kill me." Luke said, shrugging. "Didn't figure he'd miss again at that range, so I shot him." The ghost looked at his companions. "You boys were there. Is that what happened?" Kiah nodded. "I reckon so. Japhet was drunk. That's the only reason he missed the first time." The big one agreed. "He was celebratin'. 'Twas his birthday." He stepped closer to Luke, scowling. "You hadn't oughta' shot him. He was jest havin' fun." Luke lifted his rifle, its front sight not quite touching a belt buckle. "Back off," he said quietly. "You're crowding me." "Why you--" The ghost--Malachi?--lifted a hand. "That's enough, Moses. Let him be." "Aw, Malachi, you gonna let him off scot free?" "Cain't we at least beat the shit outa him?" Luke tensed, ready for a fight, if that was what came next. He reckoned he'd give a good account of himself, stone sober as he was. Both Kiah and Moses reeked of whiskey. "Not tonight. We've got things to do." Malachi Breedlove didn't quite smile. "I can't stop 'em from giving it a try, but I can promise to keep 'em busy for a day or two. You might consider getting out of town." Who did this fellow think he was, that he needed to be saved from a fight? "Thanks, but I can take care of myself." He pushed between two of the Breedloves, intending to go on to the next saloon. A hand on his arm stopped him. "Just a minute," the one they'd called Malachi said. "A word to the wise." Luke waited, looking the man over. Now that he was up close, he could see that he, while clearly a Breedlove, was a different cut from Japhet. He was clean, for one thing. And well-spoken. While he carried two pearl-handled Colts slung low on his hips, he wasn't bellicose like the others. "Well?" Luke said, when the wordless exchange between them had gone on far too long. "Did you just get to town?" "This afternoon," Luke agreed. "Did you have a woman with you. Young?" "Why? What do you know about her?" "Not much." A shrug. "I didn't know who you were when I hired on with the Eastern dude. But I took his money to do a job, and I earned it." Before Luke could ask what he meant, he touched the brim of his hat and turned away. "Watch your back," he said over his shoulder, before stepping through the swinging doors. "Wait!" But Malachi was gone, like the ghost he'd seemed to be. By the time Luke

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html reached the street, there wasn't a Breedlove in sight. What had Malachi Breedlove done to earn his pay? And was there more than one Eastern dude in Bear River City? Whitney had Katie. With a grim feeling of certainty, Luke cursed. *** How could I have been so foolish?Katie turned and twisted, trying to work the heavy horse blanket off her head and shoulders. She could hardly breathe, what with the dust from the straw in which she lay, the musty, smothering folds of heavy wool, and the kerchief which cut across her mouth to prevent her crying out for help. On the other hand, she wasn't cold. Her struggles and the blanket combined had kept her quite warm. She'd rather be free and freezing. How long had she been here? An hour? Two? Long enough for her hands to have gone numb, her mouth to dry to the point where her tongue felt swollen and dead. Her feet were tied as tightly together as her hands, with a short line between, so she couldn't straighten her legs or use her hands to loosen her gag. Only the stiff, high tops of her boots had let blood flow to them. She could reach her feet, for all the good it did her. Until her fingers became so cold they stiffened, she worked on the thong at her ankles, loosening the knot but not untying it. She might as well have saved her energy. Now warmth was slowly finding its way back into her hands--they weren't tied all that tightly, but her struggles had pulled the thong deep into her skin. She clenched and spread her fingers, again and again. Something moved outside the stall. Katie held her breath. Was it Whitney, coming back for her? No, for the noise came again, a thump-thump, then a scrape against the stall door. The guard, coming in to run his filthy eyes over her body again, as he had after Whitney had left? Bile rose in her throat as she once again realized her defenselessness. The door moved, swung back. Katie held her breath. Again it moved, this time opening far enough that she could see a white muzzle. In the dim light from the lantern hung high on a rafter, she saw a donkey's head, long ears pricked forward, big, liquid eyes full of curiosity. Salome!She tried to call the donkey's name, to lure her inside. All that came out was a strangled grunt.Quiet , she told herself. She held out her hands, hoped the vile-tempered creature would remember who'd given her dried apples at the risk of losing a finger. Slowly Salome entered. She snuffled at Katie's feet, bit at her fingers. Go ahead. Chew the fingers off. They're not doing me any good. So naturally Salome lost interest. She nuzzled at Katie's face, her breath warm and moist, smelling of hay. For a moment her big teeth caught at the gag and Katie held her breath.

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But once more she lost interest, went to nibbling at the hay Katie lay in. Salome, sweet, beautiful donkey. I swear I'll feed you honey and fresh apples every day for the rest of your life, if only you'll remember how you like to untie knots.Katie wiggled around and presented her bound ankles to Salome.Look, sweetheart. Knots. Nice knots, already a little loose, for you to play with. Salome bit her toes, hard enough to hurt even through the toes of her boots. Not the toes, you consarned bonehead. The knots. Please Salome. Untie the knots! Salome nosed at the feet so temptingly held out to her, snorted. Katie held her feet even higher, pushing them against the donkey's muzzle.Sugar, Salome. All the oats you can eat. You'll never have to do another day's work, if you live to be a hundred. Just untie my feet! Again Salome bit at Katie's toes, but half-heartedly. Then she seemed to discover something more interesting, for she caught something between her teeth and tugged. Katie hoped it wasn't her bootlaces. Salome tugged and bit for what seemed like an hour. Katie never took a full breath the whole time. She was afraid if she moved, Salome would forget what she was doing. Her legs were one screaming pain when at last she felt the loosening of the thong that held her feet together. She lowered them and elbowed herself to a sitting position.Good job! she told the donkey.Now if I could only get my hands loose. But she wasn't about to look a gift horse--donkey!--in the mouth. She worked her feet apart, until they were completely free. And at last she was able to get onto her knees. They here half asleep, tingling with returning circulation. She leaned against a post, wriggling her toes while she tugged at her gag. By the time she got the scarf worked down and off her chin, her feet felt as if they'd hold her up. The first thing she did was catch Salome's muzzle in her hands and kiss her on the nose.Wonderful Salome. I love you! She tried to whisper but no sound emerged. Her throat was still raw from her screams. How long would it be before she had a voice again? Peering around the edge of the stall door, she saw her guard, sprawled in a pile of straw against the opposite wall. A bottle lay beside his slack hand, and low

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html snores burbled from his mouth. Katie urged Salome out of the stall, keeping the donkey between her and the sleeping man. She needed a knife or anything sharp enough to cut the rope around her wrists. Slowly, carefully, she crept the length of the stable. On the end wall, an assortment of tools hung beside a small, cold forge. Ah! There! A farrier's knife.She pulled it down and wedged the thick handle between her boots. Carefully she drew the rope binding her wrists across the sharp, curved blade. Again and again, until the rope, blood-soaked now, frayed and eventually parted. The half-dozen cuts on her hands, made when the knife handle wobbled between her feet, were painful but shallow. Katie ripped a strip from her ragged hem and used it to wipe the blood away. Only one cut still seeped blood, so she wrapped the rag around it.Time to go, before Muldoon wakes up. She took a moment to retie Salome at the feed trough with Sheba and Lafayette, fumbling with fingers that seemed as fat as sausages and twice as useless, but finally making a knot of sorts.Stay there, sweetheart. Where I'm going might be a bad place for a donkey. She gave the animal one last pat. The livery stable sat back behind Fries' Mercantile and uphill a ways. There was no cover between its door and the back wall of the mercantile, but the night was dark and so were Katie's garments. She watched from the shadow of the stable door until she was as sure as she could be that no one was looking. Then she dashed across to the mercantile and crouched behind some barrels. If she craned her neck just right, she could see the street. There seemed to be a lot of activity. She'd heard shouts and shots off and on during the time she was captive. Once she'd heard a woman's scream. Had anyone paid any more attention to it than they had to hers, this afternoon? She hoped so. Now the noise was louder, a low roar as if everyone in town was talking at once. Shots punctuated the mass conversation, sometimes single, sometimes many, like a string of firecrackers all going off together. She had to get across the street somehow, for the hotel was on the other side. Slowly she crept along the wall of the mercantile, holding close in its shadow, hoping no one would look this way. At the front corner she paused again, looking down the street. A crowd was gathered two hundred feet or so away, clustered around the front of a building. The roar of voices came from there. Torches held high threw their flickering light onto faces contorted in anger, showed shaken fists and guns held high. She couldn't understand a word, but she was deeply grateful that they were so occupied. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the street. With every ounce of steel in her backbone, she forced herself to walk slowly across, until she

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html could slip between the log wall of a barbershop and the canvas one of Granny's Dining Room. I made it! She could just hear her ma telling her not to count her chickens before they hatched. She still had better than a dozen buildings to pass, before she reached the hotel. And between them were open spaces, some as wide as a house, where she would be in plain sight of anyone with the wit to look. One. Two.Each time she came to an opening, she paused long enough to make certain no one was passing near the fronts of the buildings. Three. Wait. Here comes someone.She made herself as small as possible and thoughtI'm not really here. You're seeing things. When she was little, she'd believed that if she told herself she was invisible, she would be. Now she wished it worked. Several men passed, their attention plainly on what was going on in the street. Katie hurried into the shadow of the next building. On and on, slowly, carefully. Crossing each open space with her heart in her mouth. She reckoned she had two or three more to cross before the hotel. And if its back door was locked, what then? Someone was standing between the next two buildings, facing the street. His shoulders were broad under a bulky coat and a rifle hung from one by a sling. His hat was wide-brimmed and pulled low over his face. As he turned his head slightly, Katie saw a moustache. Luke! But what if it wasn't him? Did she dare risk it? She must have made a noise, for the next instant he turned and peered into the dark passage. "Luke!" No matter that the word came out a harsh whisper. He heard. In an instant she was in his arms. "Damn you for a fool!" he said into her ear, his voice seething with fury. "Where the hell have you been?" CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Katie burrowed against him like she was trying to get inside his skin. Luke felt a surge of desire despite the anger that flooded through him. He held her away from him and shook her. "Answer me! Where have you been?" "Whit'y. Caught me. Liv'r stab...." Her voice was little more than a whisper, harsh and strained. She shook her head. "Throat...hurts." Her hands caught at his sleeves and clung. "Damnation." He swept her into his arms and carried her along behind the buildings until they were at the back door of the hotel. "Stay here," he told her, lowering her to the steps. "I'll be right back." He all but ran around the corner to the front door. A few people were eating supper in the dining room. No one even looked up when Luke stalked through into the kitchen. The clerk and an older woman in an apron sat at a small table, eating. Ignoring their protests, Luke opened the back door and pulled Katie inside.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "My wife's feelin' poorly," he said in explanation, as he pushed through the door into the dining room. "Hope you folks will excuse us." Only one of the diners even looked up from his food. He nodded in sympathy and took another bite. Luke had never seen a place where folks minded their own business so well. Once in the room, Luke sat Katie on the bed and held a canteen to her lips. She sipped, coughed, and sipped again. "Thanks," she whispered, a hand at her throat. A dirty rag was wrapped around her knuckles. The dark stain on it looked like blood. Luke caught her wrist and unwrapped the rag. A dozen and more scratches marred the skin of her hand, along with one oozing cut. "What happened?" "Told you." Her voice was stronger now, but still raspy. "Whitney caught me. Tied me up in the livery stable." The anger turned to a red rage. "He choked you?" She shook her head. "I screamed." Her mouth trembled. "Oh, God, Luke, he caught me right here in the hotel. I screamed and screamed and nobody paid any attention. Nobody!" Somehow the sight of Katie Lachlan on the edge of tears shook him as nothing ever had. Had she had all the fight choked out of her? "Did he harm you?" Not that he wanted the answer, but Luke figured he ought to know whether he was going to kill Whitney or not. "No." She rubbed at one cheek, and now Luke noticed how much darker it was than the other. "Well, he did slap me." Before he killed him, he'd show Whitney what it felt like to be beaten. Gently he touched the bruise with his fingers, tracing its outline. "That's all?" Realization leapt into her eyes. "Oh! You meant did he, well,harm me?" She shook her head. "But he did touch me. Here." She lightly touched her breast, and shuddered. "It was awful! Like something crawling on me." Never mind the rifle. He'd carve Whitney up like a Christmas goose, letting him feel every cut. Luke's anger flared into rage, such a rage as he'd never felt no matter how fierce the battle, how close the bullet. In the War, Luke had done what he'd been trained to do, knowing that if he didn't he'd likely die instead. It had been a dirty, soul-rending job, but one a man had to do. When he'd killed Japhet Holmes, he'd been more scared than angry, reacting to a dangerous situation. Afterward he'd hated himself, hated Japhet for forcing the situation upon him. And he'd thrown away his gun and sworn that only the most desperate circumstances would ever make him shoot down another human being. Now he understood how a man could kill in cold blood. He reached for his coat, which he'd hung on the bedpost. "Where are you going?" Settling his hat on his head, Luke said, "After Whitney." She reached for him, caught his wrist. "You can't go after him tonight. Please!" "Turn loose, Katie. The man needs a lesson taught to him." "But not tonight!" She jerked him so hard he almost fell over on top of her.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "Listen! Something's going on out there. Something terrible." Luke cocked an ear. Sure enough, the low roar of men's voices had grown louder. He'd become used to it, and to the occasional shots that rang out, but now he became aware that this was more than a street brawl. He stepped to the window. "Wait!" Katie got up and blew out the lamp, casting the room into almost total darkness. A faint line of light crept under the door, and the window showed as a pale rectangle of flickering light. He eased the sash up as high as it would go. A cold breeze wafted in, bringing the promise of more snow. He leaned out, his hands resting on the sill. The breeze also brought the sound of men's voices raised in anger. Luke shivered, but whether it was from cold or a familiar anticipation, he wasn't sure. There was something about the roar of the crowd, something primitive and bestial, that spoke of death and destruction. He'd heard that sound before--at Plattsburg and Antietam and at too many other bloody battlefields. If he went out there, he'd be walking into the middle of a war. Luke stood at the window a long time, long enough for the room to grow as cold as outdoors, as he fought memories he thought well buried. "Luke?" Katie called softly at last. "Close the window?" He did so, easing it down so it wouldn't squeak. "Have you got something I can hang over this?" he said. Nothing ever came of reliving the past. His role now was to keep Katie safe. "I think so." She lifted the fiddle case from where he'd set it on the floor and dug inside. "Here," she said, handing him the silk petticoat the shotgun had been wrapped in. "Will this do?" He contrived to hang the petticoat over the window, fighting the thoughts the fragile, lilac-scented fabric brought to mind. Katie used one of the matches he'd left on the washstand to relight the lamp, wiping the chimney out with her skirt before she replaced it. At his raised eyebrows, she said, "As dirty as I am, a little soot won't even be noticeable." Her words brought back the angry fear he'd felt when he couldn't find her. "You'd only been half as dirty if you'd done what I said." Taking a tight rein on his temper, he asked, "Did you ever in your whole life do what you were told?" "I never promised to stay. You think just because you tell me to do things, I'll do them. Well, let me tell you this, Lucas Savage, I...." She hesitated as footsteps thudded on the stairs. Luke held up his hand for silence. They both listened. Two men, coming up the stairs, talking, their voices growing louder as they ascended. Katie's face went stark white. Luke tiptoed to the door and made sure he'd locked it. Then he leaned against it and tried to hear what was being said. "...Freeman...nonsense...a pack of ignorant malcontents who...newspaper...." The other man's answer was inaudible. After a moment, Luke heard a door open, then shut. Footsteps descended the stairs. He wished he dared open the door to see which man had gone into the room across the hall.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html He'd bet his buttons it was Whitney. It had been that kind of day. Turning, he held a finger to his lips. Katie nodded her understanding. She sat on the side of the bed, running her fingers through her loosened hair, pulling wisps of straw from the tangled strands. Her skirt was filthy, mud-stained and wet along the tattered hem, and her bodice was missing a button or two. Even her boots were much the worse for wear, scratched and muddy. She'd never looked more tempting. Luke reminded himself of why she looked as if she'd been dragged through a knothole backwards. It made him mad all over again. "I'm waiting," he whispered, silently cursing the need to keep quiet. He wanted to yell at her so bad he could taste it. "For what?" Her whisper held a challenge. "For you to tell me what on earth possessed you to run off like that. My God, woman--" "Shhh!" He controlled his voice. "The day I turn you over to your pa will be the happiest day of my life. You've given me more grief than any man ought to have in a lifetime. All I have to do is turn around and you're haring off on your own, as if nobody has any ideas but you." "That's not true!" "Oh, it ain't? What about the time I told you to wait in the railcar? But you wanted a walk. And the time you followed me into the depot. You could have waited outside. And there was the time--" "Oh, be quiet! You're not so all-fired perfect either. What about when you went storming off into the snow? You darned near froze to death." "Tarnation--" "Shhh!" With effort, Luke lowered his voice. One deep breath led to another, then a third, before he could whisper softly, "I swear, Katie Lachlan, if you go off on your own one more time, I won't go lookin' for you. Since you're so danged independent, you shouldn't have any trouble at all going the rest of the way on your own." He knew he didn't really mean what he'd said. But maybe she'd believe he did. Her chin came up and her eyes flashed in the golden light. "That's all right. I don't need you anyhow." "Oh, you don't? That ain't the way I see it. If ever there was a woman needed a keeper, it's you." "A keeper?" Her whisper almost turned into a squeak. "And you think you're qualified?" "Lady, right now I wouldn't take the job if you paid me to. Why I never saw--" Luke broke off. This wasn't getting them safely out of town. "Make up your mind. Do what I tell you or look for somebody else. I ain't one of your knights in shining armor." She glared at him for a moment. Then her chin began to tremble. "Oh, Luke, I know I did wrong!" she wailed softly. At his abrupt motion, she continued in

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html a whisper, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." If she'd snapped back at him, he might have been able to stay mad, but this apologetic Katie was something new and wonderful. Luke pulled her close. "Ah, sweetheart, don't cry. I was just so scared. What if you hadn't got loose? I'd have never found you." He rocked back and forth, comforting her. Comforting himself. His head had been so full of what-ifs that he'd scarcely been able to think. More than once, during the War, he'd seen what could happen to a defenseless woman. His mind had kept seeing Katie at the mercy of a man without mercy. She was so precious to him, this small, foolish, fearless woman. Pushing aside the residue of his anger, Luke lifted her and laid her on the bed. He lay beside her on his side, head propped on one hand. The lamp needed trimming, for it flickered and smoked. No matter. He could see enough. She clung to him, sniffling now and then. Luke pulled her into his embrace. Her arms slipped around his neck. She was warm and soft. Whether it was just his wishful thinking or for real, she smelled of lilac, bringing back to Luke memories of love and laughter. Of a life without hatred and evil. The life he'd known once, long ago. She snuggled closer, her hair tickling his nose, her face tucked against his neck. He felt her lips moving against his throat, a wet flick of her tongue just above his collar. Luke knew he should push her away. "Katie girl, this ain't the time or place." Her answer was to pull his head down so she could press her lips against his. After a moment, she parted her lips. So did he. "When better?" she whispered. Her breath was warm and sweet in his mouth. He drank of her sweetness. His tongue boldly explored every nook and cranny of her mouth. Just as boldly, she caught his lower lip between sharp teeth and nipped, laved away the pain, suckled. The part of him that knew better lost the battle with his body's desperate hunger. When she whispered again her need for him, he groaned and surrendered. Katie clung to him, feeling safe in his arms. Feeling cherished. Desired. A less civilized man than Whitney would have raped her tonight. Her helplessness had, for the first time, really brought home just how vulnerable she was. And how much she wanted Luke to be the first. "Luke, please," she whispered against his neck. His body was still tense, still resisting her embrace. He was so darned noble, not wanting to take advantage of her, not wanting to risk giving her his child. But he'd told her himself that there were ways....Well, so had her sister. And her aunt. And her mother. They just hadn't told her what they were. "Make love to me." He groaned. And reached for the buttons on her bodice. One by one his fingers fumbled them

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html open. His mouth followed his fingers, lips skimming across the top of her camisole, leaving a burning trail wherever they touched. Katie held herself still only with an effort. She wanted to sit up and tear her dress open, to discard the layers and layers of clothing she wore until his callused fingertips could trace their magic everywhere on her tingling skin. Until his mouth could discover her every secret. She reached for the buttons on his shirt, but Luke's hand on hers halted her frantic plucking. "Wait," he said, his words vibrating against her breast. "Not yet." He worked her bodice free and fully open. "Pretty," he said, tracing the lace edging of her camisole with one finger. The finger left the lace and moved lower, circling her breast, coming nearer with each circle to a nipple that was aching and turgid. Katie arched upwards, but Luke's hand only continued its slow teasing. She wanted to scream. To beg. "Luke!" "Katie," he breathed, as he lowered he head and breathed against her camisole. Cotton and wool might just as well have been the thinnest silk, for the heat and moisture of his breath spread across her breast, intensifying the ache, sending tides of pleasure through her body. Katie gave herself up to sensation. His mouth, his hands were everywhere. She felt cool air on her breasts once, realized that he had somehow removed her dress. But his mouth was doing wonderful things to her again, and this time there was no clothing to prevent his tongue from flicking and teasing her nipple. His hands were strong as they lifted her and pushed her petticoats away. Her wool drawers stopped him only a moment as he struggled with the ties at her waist, then they were gone too. Katie gasped as his tongue traced a line from her breasts to her navel. "Sweet," he whispered. "You taste so sweet." She caught at his shirt. "I want to see you. To touch you." "Not yet." His hands closed on her hips, moved along her thighs and calves, to her ankles and back. Her legs quivered, her knees bent and flexed. When his hands neared the juncture of her thighs, she cried, "Now, Luke. Please!" But all he did was lean over and kiss her belly, as his hands drew lines of fire from breast to thigh, never touching where she ached to be touched, yet feeding the flames that burned within her. Mindlessly she yielded to him, entirely caught in the sensations he roused in her. He kissed his way to her feet and back, nipped at her belly, dipped his tongue into her navel. When he lifted her legs to his shoulders, Katie could only gaze at him through passion-glazed eyes. Incapable of anything beyond wanting him, she could only plead, "Love me, please!" She thought he murmured "I do," before he put his mouth on her. Katie burst into flame. A wild, leaping conflagration that lasted an eternal instant, burning away everything in swells of fire that broke over her awareness like waves on a beach. She felt herself tossed on the flames, mourned them as they receded and died, leaving her consumed. A long time later Luke unwound himself from her embrace and sat up. She felt the cold flannel of the sheet slide over her still-heated skin as he pulled it up

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html and tucked it around her shoulders. The bed creaked when his weight left it. With an effort, Katie opened her eyes. He stood over her, his face shadowed. Even so, she could see deep lines in his cheeks, like slices of pain. His mouth was set, a muscle twitching in his jaw. She reached for him. "Come here," she whispered, lacking the strength to raise her voice. His black eyes looked back at her, veiled and unrevealing. Slowly he shook his head. "I don't think I could stop again, darlin'. Not if my life depended on it." He picked up his coat and hat. "It's better this way." "But--" "It sounds like things have quieted down some," he said. "I'm going out to see what's happening." Without another word, he opened the door and slipped through. Katie heard him lock it from the outside. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO The lobby of the hotel was empty, a single lamp burning low in the window. The door was barred. Luke eyed it, then turned and went toward the back of the building. The kitchen door was also barred. Somebody was more worried about keeping trespassers out than about letting paying customers in. Silently he went back up the stairs. The back window was on a landing four steps down from the second floor. He eased the window open, wincing when it protested shrilly. He waited for a slow count of sixty. But no doors opened, no voices called out in curiosity. No man with the sense God gave a goose would be curious, given what was going on in the street. If I had any brains atall, I'd stay indoors tonight.But hadn't he already proven tonight that he had none? Feet first he slid through the window, balanced on his belly for a moment, then dropped, landing with knees bent. At the corner of the building, he waited, listening. Not a sound from anywhere nearby. Just the bone-deep growl of a simmering tumult. Slipping from shadow to shadow, he went along the backs of the buildings until he drew near where a crowd nearly filled the street. It seemed to be centered on a frame building across the way, its high false front lit by the light of half a hundred flickering torches. Luke couldn't see a sign above the boarded-up window, but it looked like there used to be one. Dark splotches on the wood looked like somebody had been slinging mud, too. Or something smellier. The mutter of voices was too garbled for him to make out words, but he heard the animal undertone of angry men bent on violence. All they needed was a little push. Standing back from the crowd, silent men in dark clothing lurked in the shadows. Some were armed with long guns, others with pitchforks and cudgels. Luke edged

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html around the corner and found a piece of wall to hold up, not too close to anybody. He joined the watchers. Individual words sometimes emerged from the crowd's low roar. "Burn...Smash....Lynch...Johnny Rebs...Lies...Vigilance...." Luke eased up to the nearest man. "Who're they after?" The fellow eyed him suspiciously. After a long examination, he apparently decided Luke wasn't part of the mob. "The Freemans. They own the newspaper." "Those fellas who think the South won? What are they doin' in a place like this?" "Been following the rails. They set up here a while back. They're agin the government, but they preach law and order." "Ahuh!" Luke could just imagine how popular that sermon was. "Lately they been callin' for a Vigilance Committee." The fellow shook his head. "A man would be takin' his life in his hands to answer a call like that." Sometimes that was what a man had to do, Luke reckoned, but he didn't say so. "I take it there's some who believe with the newspaper." The fellow nodded. "Ain't been a day go by for more'n a week hasn't been two, three killin's. Sometimes more." He shook his head, a slow back-and-forth motion. "Not that there's much we can do about it. It'd take an army to fight that mob." His tone was despairing. "Some of us talked about standing up to 'em, but it just don't seem like we'd have a chance, not with every saloon keeper and madam stirrin' things up." His harsh laugh was without humor. "Law and order's the last thingthey want." "I reckon it is," Luke opined. He watched a few more minutes. It seemed to him the crowd was working up to an explosion, but hadn't quite got there yet. Probably wouldn't tonight. But tomorrow they'd get themselves liquored up again and all Hell would break loose. The fellow he'd been speaking to slipped away, slinking along the storefront like a shadow. Luke remained where he was, watching the furor gradually die down. Angry muttering degenerated into occasional shouts as the crowd broke up, its edges fraying like a torn shirt. Many of the men wandered into one saloon or another, while others staggered off into the dark. The street was all but empty when Luke pulled his shoulders away from the wall against which he leaned. More than ever he was determined to get Katie out of town before the lid blew off. Now that he was alone, he had no more excuse not to think about what he'd almost done. He'd never felt such torment as when he stood up and left Katie lying there on the bed, sated and soft, her body wet and ready for him. Her arms reaching for him. Aroused as he'd never been before, throbbing with a terrible longing to sink himself into her and never come up. Hell, he was hard again, just thinking about it. He jerked his hat from his head, hoping the crisp, cold air would cool his lust, calm his fevered thoughts. He'd sworn to himself that he'd not touch Katie again. Hadn't he seen the budding devotion in her eyes, sensed her growing dependence on him?

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html The last thing he wanted. The last thing he needed. A woman thinking she could depend on him. And he'd come close--so close it scared him--to telling her he loved her. Well, he did, much good it'd do him. He wasn't the kind of man for a fine woman like Katie Lachlan. Not Lucas Savage, who'd never in his life lived up to what was expected of him. Hell and damnation!He should have told Mick to find Katie another bodyguard, one who could be trusted to take care of her. Then he should never have gotten on the train in Chicago. He could have gone back to Kansas. Faced down Japhet Breedlove's kin. Settled somewhere and proved himself up a farm. There was some might pretty country down along the Arkansas River, country that would support the horses and mules he had a mind to raise. His pay from last summer's cattle drive would have been enough of a stake to start on a herd. The cattleman who'd owned the last herd he'd driven to Kansas had had some good mares he'd have sold to Luke. Probably would have let his stallion cover them, too. Not many stockmen knew beans about farming, but Luke did. He could have raised his own corn and grain, put in a kitchen garden. Set aside a pasture for a milk cow and fenced a pen for some hogs. It would have taken hard work, but Luke hadn't known any other kind. Life would have been a hell of a lot simpler, that was for certain. *** Katie stared at the door as it closed behind Luke, her mouth open. She could not believe he'd done what he had to her, then just got up and walked away. He'd wanted her. She knew he had, for she'd felt the hard length of his arousal against her belly. She'd seen it, still straining against his pants, when he'd stood over her, his face carved into lines of suffering. Well, he should be suffering! "Damn him!" She forced herself upright, lowered her feet to the floor. Her clothing was scattered all over the small room. Picking it up took an effort of will. With shaking hand, she poured water into the basin, dipped her kerchief into it and cleaned herself. A hot flush engulfed her as she touched tissues still tender from Luke's tongue and teeth. Heavens above, what he had done to her! She had never dreamed she could feel like that. Or that a man might kiss her so intimately. How could he have just walked out? Shivering, Katie quickly pulled her clothing on. No telling when Luke would be back, but she knew he would not abandon her.Not that I need him all that much. Why had she ever decided to hire him, anyhow? So far she'd done as much taking care of him as he had of her. Where had he been when she needed him tonight? The longer she sat, waiting, the madder Katie got. She dozed, off and on, but never slept soundly. By the time Luke knocked quietly on the door, sometime in

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html the wee small hours, she'd gone beyond mad. "Where haveyou been?" she demanded in a loud whisper when he slipped inside. "Out." He crossed the room and pulled her petticoat aside from the window, peering out. "How long will it take you to pack up?" "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on." "Suit yourself." Luke tossed his bedroll on the bed, opened it enough to retrieve the bag of ammunition. As he distributed cartridges into coat pockets, she said, "What are you doing?" "Packing." He tied the bedroll tightly and set it aside. "You owe me fifty dollars." Katie gaped at him. "Fifty...you must be crazy!" "The deal was for a hundred to get you to Salt Lake City. We're close enough in miles it makes no difference, so I figure you owe me. Particularly since I paid out most of what you already gave me for food and lodging."

"Are you...." She stared at him, unbelieving. "You're walking out? Leaving me here?" "You said you wasn't goin' anywhere. I am." Slinging his bedroll over his shoulder, Luke laid a hand on the doorknob. "Mind you lock this when I'm gone." "You're bluffing!" "Try me." Katie folded. "I can be ready in five minutes." His expression didn't change, nor did his stance. "You gonna listen to what I say, do what I say from now on?" Working swiftly, she tossed everything loose into the fiddle case. "Yes, but..." "Yes or no?" There. She was packed. "But Luke, I...." "But nothing." He glanced around the room. "Don't forget the petticoat. But first blow out the lamp." The petticoat ripped as she pulled it from the window, but Katie didn't care. She felt her way back to the bed. No light came from the window now, and not a sound. Bear River City was asleep. "Hold on," Luke said as she joined him at the door. "Where's your shotgun?" "In the case." "Won't do you any good there. Get it out and make sure it's loaded." She did as he said without argument. *** Once more they crept along behind the buildings. Katie had no idea what time it was--closer to morning then midnight, she thought. At the end of the street, Luke waited and listened, until she wondered if he planned to stand there until

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html dawn. At last he motioned her to cross. She ran, stumbling in the dark, coming up hard against the outer wall of the livery stable. The thump she made when she hit must have disturbed one of the horses inside. She heard a whicker. Luke was right behind her. "Stay here while I check inside," he breathed in her ear. The smaller door beside the main entrance was closed, but not latched. Luke stepped past her and pushed it open. Katie's stomach clenched as he slipped into the dark barn. Where was Muldoon? Whitney's lackey had been deep in a drunken stupor when she'd escaped. Enough time had passed for him to have slept it off.Be careful, Luke! Not a sound came from inside.Maybe if I count to a hundred. And if he's not out by then-- she forced her self to count slowly, silently. ...sixty-five...sixty-six...sixt -The door beside her eased open. Katie clutched the shotgun stock even tighter. "It's me." Luke's whisper was little more than a breath. He gestured. "Inside now. Quick." She squeezed past him, wondering if she would ever again smell a livery stable that she didn't remember the miserable hours she had spent here, bound and gagged. They found their way along the fronts of the stalls by touch, each step painstaking. Could Luke hear her heart pounding, her breath hissing like the steam from a locomotive's boiler? The distance from the door to the manger where Lafayette and the donkeys were tied had seemed endless when Katie was escaping. Now it felt at least ten times farther. With both hands full, she was dependent on Luke's guidance, so she set each foot down with utmost care. Even the merest rustling of the straw could disturb a horse's slumber. A disturbed horse was often a noisy horse. As good as a fire bell for rousing a sleeping hostler. Once more Luke laid a hand on her arm and put his mouth close to her ear. "Wait here." She halted. Her hands were sweating, for all that her breath made a faint cloud before her face. The shotgun's stock seemed slick, hard to hold. Luke returned, leading the animals. He silently helped her tie his bedroll and their gunnysack of food to Lafayette's packsaddle. "Let's go," he breathed, when they were done. "Wait." She handed him her shotgun. "Katie--" "Shhh! I'll just be a minute." When she was looking for a knife, she'd all but tripped over a gunnysack half full of shelled corn. Now if she could just find...There you are!She dragged it back to where Luke waited. "Corn for the stock. I can't lift it," she whispered. "You'll have to tie it on." Luke looped a thong around its neck and slung the sack across Lafayette's pack. "Good idea," he whispered. "Now, let's git!" Katie hurried ahead of him and opened one of the big doors at the front of the

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html stable, just enough for the animals to pass through in single file. They headed out of town. At least Katie assumed it was out of town because it was uphill. "Do you know where we're going?" she asked Luke, when they'd climbed for perhaps a quarter of an hour. "Nope," he said. "But anywhere's better than here." "I hope you're right," she said. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Caught between a rock and a hard place, that's how Luke felt. The town was about to erupt into a small war. This open country offered few places to hide. And now he and Katie were on the run again, this time with no water and little food for themselves, only corn for the stock. Once more he'd fallen short. All he could do now was keep Katie safe until help arrived. If help arrived. He'd sent those telegrams only yesterday. What if Mick couldn't persuade the Pinkerton Agency to send an agent to Katie's rescue? Then it would be up to him, and he wasn't sure he was up to it. Not against the rioters, Whitney, and maybe even Kiah Breedlove. "Hell and damnation!" He'd told Mick he wasn't a fit bodyguard for Katie. She was little more than a shadow, walking a few yards ahead of him. Her left hand clutched Sheba's mane, her right that damned fiddle case. In his mind's eye he could see her face--laughing blue eyes, stubborn little chin, and a mouth that begged to be kissed. Even if Mick got some help for them, she would have to depend on Luke for the next day or two.Nothing's going to happen to her. Not while I'm alive! "I sure hope Lafayette knows where he's going," Katie said softly. "I'm trusting him to. Smith told me he could smell water a mile off." The gulch they followed was rocky, but it was headed in the general direction of Evanston. At least he hoped it was. Under the dark clouds, he couldn't really tell which way they were traveling. As they walked, he prayed that along its steep walls they'd find a seep or a spring--somewhere he could fill the canteens with enough water to keep them alive for a day or so. He and Katie could live on the few provisions he'd bought in town and the stock had the sack of corn she'd grabbed. As long as it didn't snow again. But they couldn't go without water. Gradually the sky lightened. Looming black shapes became cedar trees, and the rocky floor of the narrowing gulch showed itself to be a dry creek bed. The gulch headed in a pile of rocks, ice-coated and tumbled at the base of a steep cliff. There was no cover, nowhere to hide. The only way to go was up. Luke eyed the precipitous slope, cursing under his breath and wondering just how high it was.I reckon it doesn't matter. We're not goin' back. He could climb as far as need be, if he took his time and avoided the icy patches. Could Katie? She answered his unspoken question. "I climbed better than any of my brothers." Her voice held just a hint of challenge. "Get the leads off the asses," he told Katie. Quickly he removed the mule's cargo and packsaddle and shoved it all under a big cedar. "You're on your own from here on out," he told Lafayette, scratching him under the chin. "I'll come

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html get you when it's all over." With a swat, he sent the mule ambling back down the gulch. Katie had freed both asses and they trotted after Lafayette. She stared after them. "Will they be all right?" "Better off than with us. I doubt any of 'em could get up there." Katie was rigging a sling on the fiddle case, using strips torn from the ruined silk petticoat. "Never mind that," Luke said. "Let's go!" "Don't be silly. I can't climb that carrying the shotgun." She swung the case over one shoulder. It looked awkward as the dickens, but seemed to be out of her way. Once again she pulled her skirt up between her legs and tucked it into her front waistband. "There! I'm ready." After a few moment's study of the rocky, almost vertical face, she started scrambling upwards, using both hands and both feet. Not for the first time, Luke thanked his lucky stars that she was not cut from the common cloth. If he had to take on the care of a female, he couldn't have picked one better than Katie Lachlan. Nor more stubborn. But sometimes stubborn got the job done. He picked his way carefully up the sheer wall, praying that none of the slight projections he used as hand and toeholds would give way under his weight. Or Katie's. Katie kept her eyes on the rock in front of her, just as she had learned at an early age. What her brothers had never known was how terrified of heights she was. As long as she didn't look down, she was fine. More than once she'd climbed an entire cliff with her eyes closed. As she neared the top, the going got easier. The slope eased until she was able to stand upright, catching at a rock or shrub occasionally when footing was uncertain. The first sign that they were in the wrong place was when she tripped over a scrap of wood protruding from a pile of rounded rocks. A board, roughly sawed on the edges. "What in the world?" She looked around. "Oh, no!" The almost level top of the hill they'd climbed was scattered with rectangular piles of cobbles and small boulders, and mounds of frozen earth, planted with upright and drunkenly tilted boards. Off to Katie's left, a single rudely carved stone angel stood at the head of a small, sunken grave. Nearby was a new excavation, a shovel stuck in the pile of frozen soil beside it. The top of the hill was perhaps an acre across, gently rounding down on all sides. A rutted road led down the slope opposite the one they'd climbed, evidence of frequent visits to this lonely hilltop cemetery. Although Katie couldn't see the town over the brow of the hill, the rails entering and leaving Bear River City were shining double lines in the early morning light. She and Luke had traveled in a circle, and were less than a mile from where they'd started. The cemetery was almost ominous, with its unpainted, ill-made markers, the empty hole awaiting its occupant. In her imagination, she saw a gibbet silhouetted

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html against the still-pink clouds. The sun, barely showing over the higher hill to the east, stroked long, bright fingers across the hilltop with its clumps of dry, bleached grass, with dark shadows growing from every upright grave marker. Katie shivered, and not simply with the morning's chill. Luke had caught up with Katie when he saw the three riders coming up the opposite side of the hill, their faces shadowed by wide-brimmed hats. "Shit!" He stepped in front of her. With the situation in town, the only men who'd be coming up here weren't likely to be going to a funeral. For the first time, he missed the Colt at his hip. His rifle was loaded, but seven bullets were scarcely adequate defense. "Who is it?" "Damned if I know, but I ain't ready to figure they'll let us be." That blazefaced sorrel the skinny fellow was riding looked familiar. Luke wished he could see their faces. Katie stepped up beside him, fighting the catch on her fiddle case. "It must have banged against a rock. I can't get it--" "Never mind." Luke remembered where he'd seen the horse before. "Take cover," he told Katie. "Now!" "But, Luke--" "Goddammit, Katie! Take cover!" "Wait! Who are--" He spun and grabbed her, forced her over behind a leaning, rough-hewn headstone. "It's the Breedloves. Now get down and stay there." Her face told him she'd stay about as long as it took him to turn his back. "Katie, do it. Please. Do it for me." Her eyes were dark with rebellion. "You can't face them alone." Luke glanced over his shoulder. They were less than fifty yards away. Quickly he knelt beside her, cupped her cheek in his palm. "Katie, love, if anything happened to you..." He swallowed, still not ready to say the words. "Just stay here. For me." She bit her lip, but nodded. "O.K. But if you get yourself killed, I'll never forgive you." "I won't." He kissed her. Hard. "Be safe." "Luke--" But he was on his feet and striding to meet the mounted men. Katie huddled behind the headstone, fighting to open her fiddle case. No matter what Luke said, she knew he'd need her shotgun. Whatever the case had banged against as she'd climbed the steep rock wall, it had hit hard. The clasp was battered flat and refused to budge. If only she had the small folding knife that was safely inside. She looked around her at the rock- strewn ground, but all she saw were cobbles and rounded pebbles. Nothing sharp or pointed enough to pry the misshapen metal pieces apart. Pausing in her struggle with the clasp, she peered around the gravestone. The man in front, on the sorrel horse, was the young, cold-eyed cowman-- Somebody Breedlove--who'd helped Whitney capture her. The other two were strangers, dirty and dangerous-looking. Luke stood tall and strong between them and her hiding place. "A perfect target," she whispered, her mouth feeling full of cotton. "Oh, Luke--"

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "Stop right there, boys," Luke said, when they were about ten yards away. He held his rifle easy, but ready to aim and fire. "I've got no argument with you, Savage," the ghost of Japhet Breedlove said. "I just want Mrs. Whitney." "She's not--" Kiah Breedlove kneed his horse forward. "Howsomever, we'uns got plenty to say, Malachi, so you go ahead and take the gal and we'll chew us a little fat with Luke. Won't we, Moses?" "You'll get your turn, Kiah," the one named Malachi said. "Just hold your fire." One hand held the reins loosely, but the other hovered just above the handle of one revolver. "Mrs. Whitney," he called, "you come out now and I won't let my cousins kill Mr. Savage." "Shit, Malachi! You never said--" "Kiah!" The word was like a whipcrack. Kiah's mouth snapped shut, but he still glared at Luke. "You have to the count of ten, Mrs. Whitney. One." Kiah loosened his six-gun in its holster. Luke wondered how many shots he could get off before they killed him. Wondered if he should save a bullet for Katie. He wouldn't give a rabid dog to Kiah Breedlove. "Two." "You promise to let Luke go?" Katie's voice was high, thin with fright. "I didn't say that. Three." The silence seemed to last forever. "Four," said Malachi. Behind him, Moses ran a caressing hand down the barrel of his rifle. "Five, Mrs. Whitney." "You said you wouldn't let them kill him." "Six. That's right. But they have a legitimate grievance with Mr. Savage. He killed their brother." His smile was a mere widening of his lips. "Seven." "Why won't you believe me? I keep telling you, I'm not-- " Katie's words were drowned in a blast of gunfire. Pistol shots cut the cold air, drowned by the heavier sound of Luke's rifle. Katie heard the agonized grunt of a man shot, cautiously peered around the grave marker. Luke stood unprotected about thirty feet from her, rifle at his shoulder. Beyond him were two mounted men and a riderless horse. Low, monotonous cursing drew her gaze to where one Breedlove half hidden behind a wooden marker. She hoped he was badly hurt. Another rifle shot sounded, and as Katie looked back toward Luke, he staggered. Fell. "Luke!" she screamed. She scrambled to her knees, but stayed where she was when she saw the big Breedlove's rifle swing in her direction.He's alive. Thank God! "Savage?" Malachi Breedlove's voice was cold, precise. "Yo?" "Your fight with my cousins isn't mine. All I want is Mrs. Whitney." "She keeps tellin' you she ain't his wife!" Luke said, but his voice sounded strained. How badly is he hurt? "I've seen her marriage lines," Breedlove said. "Savage, don't sacrifice your

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html life for her. She's not worth it." "If Katie says she ain't married to Whitney, I'm taking her word." He rolled to his knees and fired, but the bullet only glanced off the sorrel's saddle horn. "And even if she was lyin', I'd not turn her over to a polecat like him." He shot again, and Moses's rifle went flying. Katie's heart leapt into her throat as Malachi Breedlove dismounted and walked toward her. His holsters were empty, his open hands at shoulder height. "You won't shoot me, Savage. I'm unarmed." A rifle bullet plowed the ground at his feet. He kept walking. Luke cursed, lifted the barrel of his rifle slightly. It was scarcely six feet from Malachi Breedlove's belt buckle when Moses shot from the hip. Luke's body jerked and he crumpled to the ground. Blood poured from his head, just above one ear. "Luke!" Katie took one step, and was caught by arms as unyielding as iron bands. She twisted and kicked, but her arms were tight against her sides. She bit at Malachi, but her teeth caught only the slick leather of his coat. Rearing up, she tried to knock her head against his face, but only succeeded in clipping him lightly on the jaw. Moses dismounted and knelt beside Luke, rolling him over, taking the knife from its sheath at his belt. "Did you kill him?" Katie's captor asked. "Naw. He's just stunned." Dirty hands patted Luke's pockets, shirt and pants. "Wal, lookee here." He pulled a pouch free. "A nice fat purse." Bouncing it in his hand, "Real fat." The other ruffian hobbled out from behind a headstone, clutching his right shoulder. "Malachi, damn you, I'm bleedin' like a stuck pig. We got to git it stopped." He sat heavily on a boulder that marked a fresh grave with a crudely painted legend. "And then we're gonna kill that damn Savage." "You'll not die, Kiah. Moses, come over here and tie Mrs. Whitney's hands and feet. And make sure you do it well." His words galvanized Katie. She did her best to unman him, but he anticipated her move and all she did was bruise her knee against a rock-hard thigh. She did manage to stomp his foot, eliciting a sharp curse, quickly stifled. And she left tooth marks in his coat. But when all was said and done, her hands were cruelly tight behind her back and her legs were bound with a long leather strip that wrapped them from knees to ankles. When Malachi released her, she tottered and would have fallen, had he not caught her upper arm. "Damn you!" she spat. "How many times do I have to tell you Iam not Whitney's wife. Why won't you believe me?" He shrugged. "Why should I?" With deceptive ease, he picked her up and, holding her with one arm, mounted his horse. Katie felt his warmth and the supple strength of his slim body as he pulled her across his legs. Again she fought

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html his hold. "Be still, Mrs. Whitney, or I'll let my cousins kill him." "No! You can't--" "Yes, I can. Now sit quietly and you won't get hurt." He pulled her firmly across his thighs, kept his left arm tight around her middle. Turning his horse, he started it toward town. Katie leaned far sideways and twisted so she could look back over his shoulder. Moses Breedlove was still doctoring his brother's shoulder. Luke lay where he had fallen. "What will they do with him?" "My cousins didn't take kindly to Mr. Savage's killing their brother. Believing as they do in the Biblical concept of retribution, they feel it is their family duty to avenge poor Japhet." "But they want to kill him!" "I gave you my pledge, Mrs. Whitney, that if you would come willingly with me, they would let him live. I always keep my word. I have their solemn promise that they will do nothing more than, if you will excuse the crude expression, 'Beat the shit out of him.'" Katie flailed her tied-together legs against the horse's side. "Let me go!" "Sit still, Mrs. Whitney. If you struggle, I'll let you fall. And if I do that, I'll put a loop on you and lead you back to town like a stray horse." She believed him. "I'm not his wife," she repeated tiredly. This time her words didn't sound at all brave. Just desperate. Frightened as she never had been before, her belief in her own abilities all but destroyed, she sagged back against Breedlove's chest as he guided his horse down the steep hill. Twice she licked her lips, swallowed. Twice she found that she could not form words, could not find a voice to speak with. Finally, she said, in a hoarse, almost-whisper, "Where are you taking me?" "To your husband. He's waiting at the hotel." "He's not--" "Ma'am, he showed me proof, and you haven't. Now I hired on to do a job, and I'm doing it best I can." She knew what would happen, once Whitney had his hands on her again. "What if I offered you more money?" "I gave my word." His voice held such finality that Katie knew she would not be able to budge him from his purpose. She must bide her time, save her strength. Sooner or later a chance to escape would present itself.It has to! Behind them, Katie heard coarse laughter. She closed her eyes as she imagined the meaty sound of fists striking flesh. Fighting the powerful urge to struggle, she told herself, over and over:He's alive. That's all that matters. And they promised they wouldn't kill him. They promised their cousin they wouldn't.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Malachi Breedlove frightened her far more than the other Breedloves, who were merely evil. He was hard. Cold. They descended from Boot Hill in silence. Katie would not give Breedlove the satisfaction of knowing how frightened she was. What Whitney intended to do with her was something she didn't want to think about. A man had one sure way to force a woman to marry him. Oh, Luke, I wanted you to be my first! Stop that, Kathryn Lachlan! You've always claimed to be able to take care of yourself. So do it. Think, girl! Although it was still very early, Bear River City was up and about. The street was busy with groups of gesticulating men, their voices blending into a clamorous rumble that seemed to reach into her very bones. "What's happening?" she wondered aloud, not really expecting an answer. "There's strong feeling against the Freemans, who've been publishing editorials advocating a Vigilance Committee in the newspaper." His voice was mild, conversational, as if the two of them were out for a peaceful Sunday ride. "They maintain it's the only way to deal with the lawlessness, and they haven't been shy about saying so in theFrontier Index ." Breedlove guided his horse between clumps of men, straight toward the hotel. "Most folks don't take kindly to their idea. There's talk of burning the newspaper office." "Which would leave the town wide open to men like you." She wasn't able to keep the scorn from her voice, even knowing it was never a good idea to poke a stick at a snappish dog. "Violence is the last resort of ignorance," he said. "A Vigilance Committee would only inflame an already volatile situation. What is needed is for responsible men to take action to keep the peace." Katie heard his words but had trouble believing he meant them. "Youcensure violence. A kidnapper? A shootist?" He pulled his horse to a halt. "I am neither, Mrs. Whitney." Again without apparent effort, he lifted her from the saddle and set her down on the hotel porch. She wobbled, but before she could tip over, he was holding her upright. "I am merely a man with a job to do." He picked her up gently, carried her through the doorway into the hotel. Hamilton Steens Whitney III sat at a table, the sole occupant of the dining room. He rose when he saw Katie, as if she had swept, gowned and coiffeured, into a ballroom, instead of being carried in like a trussed pig. "Ah, good, Breedlove. You may take her to my room. Muldoon stay here. Warn me if the situation worsens." His smile, never attractive, was so...so predatory that Katie recoiled. His voice was like a diamond scratching on glass. "This time, my dear, you will not escape." Heaven help her, she believed him. Her resolve to wait for an opening evaporated. She yelled, she kicked, she wiggled as best she could with her arms

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html and legs tied and Breedlove's arms like steel bands around her. Again she tried to bite him, and this time she caught his collar. For all the good it did. Breedlove merely stood still until she had run down, like a clockwork toy, and then he said, "Do you prefer I carry you over my shoulder like a sack of oats?" She lay quiet in his arms without further resistance as he mounted the stairs. "Why are you doing this?" she asked him as they waited for Whitney to unlock the door. "If what you said...what kind of man kidnaps a woman and calls it 'just a job?'" "What kind of woman runs away from her husband and her child?" he said with a sneer, as he pushed her through the doorway. "Wait! I didn't--" She bounced hard on the narrow bed, face down. Before she could do more than catch her breath, hard hands caught her and turned her over. Her arms twisted beneath her, hands bent backwards against her spine. The leather thongs dug into her skin, shooting pain to the tips of her fingers. She would not loosen these bindings. "I believe I can take care of everything now. Thank you for your help." "You hired me to catch her, Mr. Whitney. You're sure you'll be able to handle her?" "Of course." Katie heard the soft clink of gold as Whitney handed Malachi Breedlove a fat leather purse. When he turned and went out the door, closing it gently behind him, Katie almost wanted to call him back. He would only hurt her if necessary. Whitney was unpredictable. Dangerous. She bit her lip, Waiting. Wondering. Whitney caught the neck of her dress and jerked her upright, snapping her head backwards. He shoved his long, horsey face right into hers and said, "Now my dear, I've had just about enough of your nonsense. Give me any trouble, and I will hurt you. Badly." He shook her, then flung her down again. Quickly he caught her feet and tied them the foot of the iron bedstead. "If you try to get away this time, you will have to drag the bed with you." Once again she remembered her pa's advice. Katie drew a deep breath and screamed fit to shake the rafters. The next thing she saw was stars, as his slim, aristocratic hand slapped her head sideways. "Your screams will do you no good. Everyone believes you are my runaway wife. No one will take pity on you." The second slap made her whole head ring. Eyes closed, Katie tasted blood behind her lips. *** A gentle nudge roused him, but Luke refused to come awake. If he did, he'd have to acknowledge the pain that wracked his whole body. A woman's lips drifted over his face. A woman's hot breath warmed his icy cheeks. Luke groaned. "Not now, swe'heart. I'm tired." He tried to roll to his belly, but something hard was wedged against his side.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html The lips parted and teeth nipped at his nose. Luke tried to open his eyes, but for some reason they were stuck shut. "Go 'way. Le'me sleep." He'd never been this drunk before. God! What had they doctored that whiskey with, anyhow? A hand tugged at his coat, pulling it from his shoulder. Even that small motion made the world spin about him. "Dammit! Le'me 'lone." He raised a hand to push the woman away, and found that his arm would not obey him. The lips returned, as well as more hands. They tugged at his pants legs, at his feet. He got a whiff of the hot breath and it smelled of hay. Hay? With every ounce of will at his command, Luke forced one hand to obey him. His fingers, swollen and stiff, seemed incapable of bending, so he turned his hand and wiped at his eyes with the back. And yelled, from the pain of it. His face! Gingerly he touched nearly numb fingertips to the skin around his eyes. It was incredibly tender, swollen and wet. With the greatest of care, he touched his eyelids, wiping away sticky matter, biting his lip as he worked eyelashes free of the glue that stuck them together. At last he lifted his fingers, peered at them. Everything was a blur, although when he wiggled his fingers--oh, so carefully-he could see some of the blur change shape. The darkest, reddest part. Something moved at the edge of his vision and he forced his head to turn on a neck that shrieked its protest. Black. Something big and black. It came closer, and Luke felt the whisper of those velvet lips again. "Laf'ette," he managed. "Goo' boy." He raised the one hand, trembling, and touched the mule's muzzle, taking comfort. He wasn't alone. Perhaps he slept then. All he knew was that time seemed to have passed, and he hadn't noticed. When he opened his eye this time, his vision was clearer and he was cold. "Laf'ette," he called. A snort answered him from somewhere off to the right. In a moment the mule came into sight. He stood quietly beside Luke, as if waiting for him to get up. Luke looked up at the mule, a long way up. He'd seen hills less high. Rolling onto his side, he pushed himself half upright. God, but he ached. He must have fallen, somehow, but where? Why? No he hadn't fallen. He'd been knocked down. Again and again. The Breedloves had beaten him, one of them holding him while the other had at him. Then they changed places. And when he drooped in their grip, they'd let him fall to the ground and taken turns kicking him. He wasn't drunk. Not by a damn sight. They'd beaten the shit out of him. Hard on the heels of that memory, came another. "Katie!" Malachi Breedlove had taken Katie. Luke looked at the sky, wishing the low clouds weren't so thick. He had no idea what time it was, how long he'd laid here unconscious. All he knew was that by now Whitney had Katie. And this time he'd make sure

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html she didn't get away. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Whitney left her alone her after he tied her feet. Katie, exhausted, eventually slept. She woke stiff and cold, in a still-empty room. Her hands were numb, her jaw ached. Pale sunlight lay across the windowsill, telling her that it must be close to noon. How long had she been alone? Had Whitney been caught up by the rioters in the street, or was he merely off making arrangements to take her out of Bear River City? Perhaps he head left town for his own safety, leaving her helpless and alone. Well, shewas helpless, for all of that. Even if she could roll off the bed, she wouldn't be able to get to the door. And thump her bound feet on the floor as she might, she doubted that anyone downstairs would give the sound a second's thought. From what she'd seen so far, folks here in Bear River City minded their own business a little too well. Luke, I do need you. Now! Had he survived the beating given him by Breedlove's cousins? Was he lying unconscious up at the cemetery, slowly freezing to death?If only I'd listened to him yesterday. She watched the narrow beam of sunlight slowly migrate across the windowsill. Her final words to Ellen echoed in her mind.I can take care of myself. I always have. Wasn't there something written somewhere about pride and falls? She wriggled again, trying to find a position in which there was no strain on her shoulders. Her hands, bound as they were behind her, made it impossible for

her to lie on her back. Lying on her side pulled her shoulders and arms into an even more unnatural position. She had long since gone beyond pins and needles. Now her right shoulder throbbed with steady, unrelenting pain. The occasional sounds from downstairs were not what she would have expected at noontime. There was no clatter of dishes in the dining room, no hum of conversation. In fact, she had not heard so much as a single voice since she awoke, easily a half hour ago. The sounds from outside were all wrong, too. No rattle of wagon wheels, no clip-clop of passing horses. Just a low-pitched growl, much like the mob last night had made, but farther away.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Many men, all talking at the tops of their voices. With shots for punctuation. What was it Breedlove had said about the newspaper? Something about a Vigilance Committee? She'd read about Vigilance Committees. They'd been organized in California, in Montana and Idaho. She'd heard stories of them, how they'd bought law and order to gold rush towns--or corruption and subjugation. It all depended on who organized the Vigilance Committee and why. What did the Bear River City Vigilantes want, she wondered. Again she moved, still seeking a position to relieve the strain on her shoulders. She told her fingers to wiggle, but the only way she could tell they had was by a slight twitching against the small of her back. Was the pain in her arms overwhelming all sensation from her hands, or were they really that numb? And what would happen if they stayed so numb for hours on end? Resolutely forcing her thoughts away from her predicament--"It doesn't do any good to think on your troubles, child, for that only makes them seem worse," her mother had told her more than once--she contemplated what she would like to do to Whitney and his henchman. Boiling in oil sounded appropriate. Drawing and quartering seemed a little too personal. Maybe burning at the stake. After driving slivers of pitch pine under their fingernails and setting them afire. If all else failed, a plain beating might teach them the error of their ways. Oh, God! Luke! How badly had the Breedlove brothers hurt him? Was he still alive? Unbidden, a sob forced its way free, then another. Before she knew it, Katie was weeping convulsively, her tears soaking the musty wool blanket upon which she lay. If only she had listened to Luke, had stayed in their room as he'd told her to do. Early this morning they would have stolen out of Bear River City, been halfway to Evanston by now. The front door of the hotel opened with its usual squeal. Booted feet crossed the wood floor and started up the stairs. At least two pair. Stiffening, Katie stared at the door. Waiting. *** There was a pale, wintry sun overhead when Luke stumbled off the rutted trail from Boot Hill and into the shadow of a log cabin. Lafayette clopped beside him, patiently bearing at least half his weight. But Luke had gone as far as he could go for a while. Where was Katie? Had Whitney taken her away on the morning train? He'd heard its lonely whistle earlier, had seen the trail of its smoke off in the distance. At the time he'd been maybe halfway down the hill from the cemetery. Gingerly he let himself down against the rough log wall, wanting nothing quite so much as to sleep until he stopped hurting. Knowing he must stay awake until he found Katie--or discovered where Whitney had taken her.I'll just rest for

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html a minute. Taking care of the Breedlove brothers would come later. How long he slumped against the wall of the outlying cabin he didn't know, but it couldn't have been too long. The shadow had narrowed but still hid him, more or less. Lafayette was nowhere in sight, but Luke reckoned it didn't matter. Even with the mule's help, he doubted he could walk another step. Damn you, get on your feet! As he struggled to his knees, he heard voices from around the corner of the cabin. Unable to do anything but keep trying to stand, Luke clung to the logs and willed his legs to support him. "Here now! What's this?" Strong arms encircled him and Luke felt his will give way to weakness. He slumped in the man's hold, let himself be lowered back to the ground. "My God!" A second voice said. "Look at him. Who did this to you, lad?" Luke peered upwards through eyes that still saw the world in wavery blurs. Two men, both bearded, both dark-clad, loomed over him. "Nev' mind," he managed to say. "Katie. Have to fin' Katie." He grasped the sleeve of the man who supported his head. "Katie? Your wife?" "Yeah. No. Wish." "She's not your wife but you wish she was?" Gentle hands touched his face, felt his scalp. Everywhere they touched he hurt. "Mus' fin' Katie," he said again, tugging at the coat lapel he still held. "Danger. Whitney." "Lad, there's danger everywhere today. The first thing we've got to do is get you where you won't be found by one of these vermin who've taken over the town. Can you walk?" With the help of both men, Luke got to his feet. But his legs wouldn't support him, so he dangled between them like wet clothes on a line. They took him to a dugout, built into the side of a hill just outside of town. The removal of his boots didn't hurt too much. It was when they started easing him out of his coat that Luke almost fainted. "I don't like this, Sam. He's one of them." "Now Abner, he's in no shape to harm us. Ruffian or not, he's one of God's creatures. Why I wouldn't leave a polecat lay in the street in condition like this. Sides, why would they beat one of their own?" "Some of 'em would shoot his own brother in the back if it put money in his pocket." Luke wanted to tell the men he wasn't a ruffian, but he couldn't find the words. They were lost in the twisted, spinning whirpool of his mind. "This is the fella came in the store yesterday. He looked--and smelled--like he hadn't bathed in a year. And that knife he carried, well it was big enough he didn't need a gun." "Well, he ain't got a knife now. Or a gun, either. Here now, young fella, drink this."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Luke felt his head being lifted, opened his mouth as something was pressed against it. He tasted something warm, sweet. Tea? No, but something like. He sipped, discovering that even his tongue was sore. But the liquid warmed him all the way through, and soothed the lacerated tissues in his mouth. He continued to sip, eyes closed, until the cup was removed. "Can you open your eyes?" Once again they felt glued shut. He rolled his head sideways. After a moment, a damp cloth lightly moved over his eyes, back and forth, until the glue was washed away. Luke looked up at his saviors. One was the clerk at the general store. The other was a big fellow with a wild black beard, brushy eyebrows that almost hid his bright blue eyes, and a merry smile. "That's better. No, take it easy. Don't try to sit up." "Mus' fin' Katie." How long had he been unconscious? "Lad, there'll be no finding anybody for a while. Can't you hear?" The roaring he heard wasn't just in his ears, Luke realized. Last night's mob had made a noise like this, only far less loud. It sounded like a herd of longhorns in stampede, and coming right at him. "Wha'sit?" He struggled to get up. If there was a riot, all the more reason why he had to find Katie. "It's a war, lad, that's what it is. A battle between the forces of good and evil." The storekeeper snorted. "Sam, you just never forget you used to be a preacher, do you?" He bent over Luke and caught his gaze. "What brought you here? Are you one of them?" "Them?" The word came out better than any so far. His tongue was finding the shape of language again. "Don' know who--" He told his arms to lift him, but they ignored the command. "Are you one of the lawless ones? Because if you are--" "Hesh up, Abner. He ain't in no condition to be pestered." The bearded man-Sam?--pulled a scratchy blanket over Luke. "I don't believe I've ever seen so many bruises on a man's body. I'll bet you feel all over like a boil in need of lancing." Since that was exactly how Luke felt, he felt no answer was needed. "Tell me what's happening," he said, carefully forcing the words through stiff and swollen lips. "Out there." As he worked his tongue around the words, he found a sharp, rough edge. Probing, he discovered that a front tooth had lost a corner. "It's them damned Freemans, inciting anarchy--" "Let me tell it, Abner. You get too heated." Sam seated himself on an upended crate beside Luke's pallet. "Long about the time Bear River City was getting started, a couple of brothers--unreconstructed Southerners if I ever saw the like-- decided it was going to be an important place someday. They'd been following the rails, publishing their newspaper whenever they could find a place to set up shop. Well, they found themselves an audience hereabouts, and have been here ever since." Luke had met more than one Southerner who refused to believe they'd lost the War. Many of them had migrated to Texas and hired on with the cattle drives. "Preach sedition?" he wondered out loud, remembering some of the diatribes he'd half-listened to. "You'd better believe they have. Why just a couple of weeks ago they printed

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html an editorial that all but promised President Grant's assassination." He shook his head, obviously disgusted. "Lately the Freemans have been promoting the Vigilance Committee--we've had one for a while, but they never did anything much beyond posting a list of laws that nobody paid mind to." "Not till last week," Abner put it. "And it was about time, too." To Luke he said, "We...the Committee hung three men for murder on the eleventh, and there's talk of hanging more." "There's been a lot of talk ever since, on both sides. And yesterday's paper only added to it. The editorial named names of saloon owners who've paid for protection from shootists and pointed fingers at the gamblers who are the worse cheaters. " Sam looked worried. "Last night some of the ne'er-do-wells tried to burn the newspaper, but we stopped them before any damage could be done." "Only made matters worse," Abner grumbled. "I'm afraid he's right," Sam admitted to Luke. "Now the whole town's in an uproar, and decent folks ain't safe on the streets." Having come from Kansas, Luke knew all too well the heartbreaking result of lawlessness and mob rule. "Why don't you take charge? Run 'em out of town?" Once more he struggled to sit up, and this time succeeded. The blanket fell away from his chest, reminding him that they'd stripped him down to his longjohns, which were gaping open to his belly. He fumbled with the buttons and managed to get most of them fastened. "We'd like to, lad. But there's more of them than there are of us, and they outgun us." "Better shots, too," Abner added. A thought was trying to make itself felt in Luke's head, but the roaring in his ears and the dizziness brought about by his effort to sit up combined to conceal it for long moments. He relaxed, letting the thought believe he was ignoring it. No different from hunting rabbits. At last! "Dynamite," he said. "Would half a dozen boxes of Dynamite change the odds?" Both men gaped at him. Finally Sam said, "I should smile! Do you know where we can get some?" "I do. But before I tell you, I want your promise you'll help me find Katie." "Damn it, man, this is a whole town's fate hanging in the balance," Abner expostulated. "And it could be her life," Luke said. "Do we have a deal?" "You're sure we can get this Dynamite?" Sam said. "I'm sure," Luke said. "It's not more than three miles from here." He reached for his pants, which were lying across the end of the pallet. Each movement was torture, and it took all his willpower not to cuss. "I'll get my wagon," Abner said as he went out the door. "Katie first," Luke reminded Sam as he slid one stiff and aching arm into the sleeve of his shirt, splotched with his blood and missing half a cuff. "You've got yourself a deal, lad. Now. Where did you see her last?" ***

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html The door opened, revealing Whitney and an older, well-dressed man. They walked in, followed by Muldoon, a toothpick in his mouth. The lackey pushed the door closed. Whitney spoke to Katie. "My dear, this is Mr. Freeman, the publisher of theFrontier Index . He has helped me make arrangements for our journey back East." "I'm not his wife. Please. You've got to believe me. To help me." Freeman shook his head, his expression pitying. Whitney sighed deeply. "I regret your meeting Mrs. Whitney under these circumstances, Leigh. If you could have known her before she became deranged, you would have found her a charming and gracious lady." "I have heard that childbirth often causes a loss of rationality in women. Such a pity." The publisher stepped to the window and looked out. "The crowd seems to be growing, Hamilton. I hope you will excuse me. My brother should not be left to face them alone." "Of course. You're certain we can't help you?" "Absolutely. I have wired for the Army, and as soon as a troop arrives, these cretins will see the error of their ways. The press must be free!" Freeman sounded to Katie like a hellsfire-and-brimstone preacher avowing his faith. Once the publisher had gone, Whitney's whole demeanor changed. "Get her up," he ordered Muldoon. "She'll have to walk, or it will cause comment." "She won't get away, Mr. Whitney. I've got my knife." He brandished a long knife with a curved blade. Katie recognized it as a skinning knife. Her pa had several, and they were capable of holding an extremely sharp edge. When Muldoon applied it to the thong that held her feet together, she saw how it sliced easily through the thick leather. Hopelessness threatened to overwhelm Katie. She would not dare argue with that knife. She stumbled when Muldoon jerked her to her feet. They wanted to flop on the ends of her legs like fish on a line. Unable to help herself, she sagged against Whitney's lackey, her nose twitching at his sour, unwashed odor. Gritting her teeth, she wiggled her toes inside her boots until the tingling lessened. "You want her hands to stay tied, Mr. Whitney?" "Of course." He hesitated, forehead creased in thought. "No. Untie her hands as well. She won't try to escape." With one pigskin-gloved hand, he lifted Katie's chin and forced her to look at him. "Will you, dear wife?" She jerked her head back, but he held her fast. "Answer me, Miss Lachlan. You will not attempt to escape, will you?" "First chance I get," she said, then gasped as his fingers dug deeply into the soft skin just below her jawbone. "I think not." He loosened his grip, slowing drawing his fingers down her throat. "Muldoon, if she disobeys, cut her. Gently. Where it will not show." Bending, Whitney picked up a valise. "Come, Miss Lachlan. There will be a special eastbound train through here in about thirty minutes. It will stop for us." Something about his smile made Katie wonder why she hadn't taken him seriously

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html from first sight. "You won't get away with this. It's kidnapping!" "On the contrary, my dear. I will not only get away with it, I will be thanked by your parents when I have made an honest woman of you." "You're crazy if you thi--" Like a striking rattler, his hand closed about her throat, choking off her words. "I told you never to use that word." He shook her like a dirty rag, until Katie's vision grayed and a ringing filled her ears. She sagged in Muldoon's grip. Dimly she saw Whitney's hands retreat from her, watched as he carefully shot his cuffs and smoothed the pigskin over the back of his hands. "It is time," he said, his voice cultured and mild. The instant transformation from raging maniac to polished gentleman was remarkable. And terrifying. "We must go." The prick of a knife at her spine propelled Katie out the door and down the stairs. As they emerged from the hotel, the clamor in the street swelled until it drowned out all other sounds. The mob, which last night had comprised perhaps a hundred men, was now easily five times that size and all but filled the street. "This way. Quickly." Whitney led them in the direction of the depot, staying close to the fronts of the buildings. No one paid attention to them as they passed empty saloons and card rooms, businesses with boards nailed across gaping windows with only shards of glass remaining. She could feel tension in Muldoon's hand gripping her arm, could see alarm in the way Whitney darted quick glances over his shoulder every step or two. They were in front of the Railroad Saloon when two men stepped into their path. "I told you, Moses. That there is the gal Savage had with him," the shorter said. He had a bloody bandage around one shoulder. Katie recognized him immediately. Both of them. They were Breedloves--the men who'd stayed behind to beat Luke. Her skin crawled as the one named as Moses looked her up and down, his gaze almost palpable on her body. "I never said she warn't, Kiah. All I said was, we maybe oughtn't to mess with her. She looks like a lady to me." Whitney glared at them. "Get out of my way, you ignorant ruffians!" "I reckon you ain't man enough to move me, city boy," Kiah Breedlove said. Katie was inclined to agree with him. He was several inches shorter than Whitney, but easily twice as wide through the shoulders. "Muldoon, do something!" "Shore would like to see him try," the taller one--Moses--said. He drew his gun. "Now then, mister, you turn loose of that gal and step over here next your boss," he ordered Muldoon, "else I see how close I can come to takin' one of his ears off." Whitney's voice went up an octave. "Muldoon!" Katie felt the knife prick deeper, then ease off. "That's right, man. Drop the knife and you won't get hurt. Now, let the gal go."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Muldoon's grip loosened and she was free. Katie stepped aside, prepared to run. "Hold on there, gal. You ain't goin' nowhere." Kiah caught her wrist. He held her fast while his brother searched Whitney's pockets, removing his purse and two silver-chased Derringers. The revolver in his other hand never wavered from its aim at Whitney's head. "My guns!" Katie said, before she could bite off the words. Kiah Breedlove looked at her, a derisive smile on his lips. "Yourguns?" He laughed. "You hear that, Moses. The lady says them fancy guns are hers." "Theyare mine. He stole them from me." "Wal, they're mine now." Moses checked the rest of Whitney's pockets, taking a watch and cigar case, both gleaming gold. "You can't treat me like this!" Whitney sputtered, as the men helped themselves to his cigars. "I'll have the law on you!" "We surely can, mister," Moses said. "There ain't no law hereabouts." Katie almost smiled. It was good to see a bully tamed. Now if someone would just come along and tame the Breedlove brothers. From behind them, the roar of the crowd swelled in volume, and half a dozen shots rang out. "Hey, Moses, let's get goin' afore we get caught up in that mess." Her captor struck Whitney's lackey across the face with the butt of a big knife. Muldoon dropped into the muddy street and sprawled there, unmoving. His wasn't the only body lying in the street. "I demand--" "You ain't in shape to demand anything, Dude," Moses told Whitney, pulling him between the saloon and the Union Bakery next door. "Bring the girl, Kiah." Dragged along by a strong grip on her wrist, Katie decided resistance was useless. For the time being. She could scream her head off and nobody would hear her over the crowd's roar. "What are you going to do with me?" "Malachi wouldn't let us kill Savage," Kiah told her over his shoulder, "so we reckon us takin' his woman will teach him not to go around killin' folks." Katie had to force her voice to remain steady as she said, "I am not Luke Savage's woman." "Close enough. He won't take kindly to you being used by us'ns." He leered at her, licking his thick lips. "I ain't had me a woman in a coon's age." CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE The crowd's noise had changed from a roar to a deep-pitched growl, like the snarl of an enraged grizzly--and likely just as predictable. As long as the Breedloves had that rabble to worry about, she had a chance. Slim, but a chance.But where's Luke? Their other captive was not so grateful. "You'll hang for this outrage! Do you know who I am?" "Far as I can see, you're a big-mouthed dude with more hair than wit. Now shut your mouth!" Moses gestured to Kiah, who tightened his hold on Katie's wrist. "You keep your knife right up agin that there gal, Kiah. She may be worth something to us." Stepping a foot or so out into the street, he looked both ways, then quickly eased back into the shelter of the alleyway. "Ain't nobody lookin' down this way," he said, drawing his revolver. "Let's go." He nudged Whitney with the barrel. "Now, Mister, you're gonna walk alongside

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html me like a man out for a Sunday stroll." "Stay quiet, little lady, and don't be tryin' to get away," Kiah said in Katie's ear. "I got me a good hold on you." She stepped out smartly. From the corners of her eyes, she could see the roiling, milling collection of men, could see how close they were to its edge. The newspaper office must be where the mob was centered. She remembered seeing a sign on the front of a board-and-batten shack.The Frontier Index. Well, the newspaper people couldn't be in a much worse fix than she was, right now. If they had a plan of escape, she sure hoped it was better than hers. The street seemed a mile wide. Ahead of her, Whitney walked docilely at Moses Breedlove's side. Perhaps he had more brains than she'd credited him with. But she'd no more than had the thought when he started yelling. "Help! Kidnappers! Save me!" A few men on the edge of the crowd turned to look, but loud as Whitney's cry had been, it disappeared in the unrelenting growl of hundreds of angry men. Moses shoved Whitney ahead of him, into the gap between two buildings. "You pull that again, Mister, and I'll shut your mouth for good." Whitney stumbled, fell to one knee. Before he could rise, Moses knocked him down and kicked him. "Get up, or I'll shoot you like the yellow dog you are." "No!" Rolling over, Whitney levered himself onto an elbow. "I'll pay you...fifty dollars. A hundred--" Moses pulled his foot back to deliver another kick. "Hold on, there," Kiah said. "A hundred dollars you say?" he asked Whitney. "Yes. Yes. Anything! Just let me go!" "Is he good for it, gal? Or is he just blowin' gas?" Perhaps if they were concentrating on Whitney, she might...Katie forced herself to nod. "Oh, yes." She paused, cleared her throat. "Yes, indeed. His family's very important back in Boston. If you hold him for ransom, his father will probably pay much more than a hundred dollars to get him back." The attention of both Breedloves was centered on Whitney. Katie jerked free of Kiah's grasp and dashed back toward the street. She'd taken only a few steps was tackled and fell, face-down, in the muddy street. Kiah Breedlove lay atop her, his fetid breath hot against her cheek. "I ain't got time for you now, pretty lady, but later on me and you's gonna get better acquainted." He lifted himself off of her, lifted her to her feet with an iron- hard grasp on her wrist. Fear surged through Katie in an icy wave. *** "The cemetery," Luke said. "We were up the hill...Damnation!" He probed gently at his jaw, wondering if he had a loose molar, too. "I've got to go back up there." "What for?" "We left something...something important up there. At least I think we did." She hadn't taken the fiddle case with her. He was sure she hadn't. "Help me up."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "Lad, it's a good mile to Cemetery Hill. Now if this lady friend of yours is in such danger, it doesn't make much sense to waste any time," Sam said. "No, you're right," Luke admitted. "Damn!" His head ached so bad he couldn't string two thoughts together. "I wish I knew what to do." "I think I can help you. Jacob, send that boy of yours up to the cemetery. Tell him to look for...What was it you left up there?" "A fiddle case. About so long, black leather--" "Tarnation, lad, it don't take a fiddle to save the gal." "Believe me, Sam, what's in that fiddle case could go a long way toward getting her safely to her pa. I just hope the Breedloves didn't find it." "You're telling me it's full of money?" "Not full, but all we've got between us. And there's a shotgun in it, too. They took my rifle." "You tell the boy about where to look. He'll find it if it's up there. And he'll be back here before the cat can lick its ear." "I'm obliged," Luke said, feeling like a heavy pack had been lifted from his shoulders. "Now, let's talk about how we're going to find Katie." *** "I tell you, that is all the cash I have!" Whitney had sung the same tune for several minutes now, with much the same words interspersed with threats of what his family would do to anyone foolish enough to hold him for ransom. His face was growing increasingly red, his voice ever more shrill. Katie was reminded of her younger brother in one of the tantrums he was prone to as a toddler. Any minute she expected to see Whitney drumming his heels and shrieking. Moses pulled a filthy rag from his pocket and stuffed it into Whitney's mouth, then used his neckerchief to tie it in place. The cloth cut into Whitney's cheeks just as a similar gag had all but strangled Katie just last night. If she weren't so scared, she might laugh at the justice of it all. A fusillade of shots sounded from the street, followed by a swelling of the crowd's roar. She could hear individual shouts now, with occasional screams as counterpoint. Even the ground seemed to tremble, as if a locomotive was passing nearby. Both Moses and Kiah were watching the street, peering down the gap between buildings. Their bodies were tense. Was the riot moving in this direction? Katie swallowed past a huge lump in her throat. She was determined not to let the Breedloves see how terrified she was.Pa, you never told me that sometimes there's nothing a body can do. At last Moses said, "C'mon. Let's get out of here." He forced Whitney to his feet. "Bring the girl. We gotta try to make it to the stable." For an instant, Katie thought about fighting him. Only for an instant. She changed her mind as a scream sounded from the street. A woman's scream. Terrified. Hopeless. That could be me. They continued along behind the stores and saloons. The livery stable was at the upper end of town and a little removed from the other buildings. Even last night, when Katie had escaped from the stable, it hadn't seemed quite as far away as it did now. Each time they passed one of the gaps between buildings, Katie looked into the

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html street. And each time it seemed to her that the tumult had increased. Some men now carried torches, waving them about above their heads. Shots were more frequent, too, until sometimes they sounded so closely together that it was hard to distinguish one from another. So far none of the rioters had ventured into the alley, for which Katie gave fervent, if silent, thanks. Unfortunately, neither had any honest men. With each step closer to the livery stable, her chances of escape lessened. They were behind the last of the saloons when two men stepped out into their paths. A third stood back a ways, in the shadows. A battered hat concealed his face, but his coat... Kiah and Moses pulled their captives to a halt. "Say a word and I'll cut you, gal," Kiah muttered into Katie's ear. His grasp on her wrist tightened. She watched and waited. "Leavin' town, boys?" the bearded leader of the trio asked. "No sense stayin' where's there's a war bein' fit," Kiah said. "Had enough of that a few years back." "We're bounty hunters," Moses said, when Whitney pulled away from Kiah, grunting against his gag. "Don't want to take a chance on losin' our reward for this here bank robber." "Ahuh! And the lady?" "He told them I was his wife," Katie said, "and I'm not. But these men believed him." She ignored the man in the shadows, spoke to the other two. "Won't you please help me?" Moses growled, but said nothing. "Don't you listen to her. She's his wife and as bad as he is," Kiah insisted. "Why she killed--" The bearded man cut him off with a gesture. "We ain't got time to argue. Turn her loose." "The hell we will!" The leader's shotgun moved until it was aimed right at Moses. "We've got troubles enough without takin' on more, so we won't interfere with you as long as you let us have the lady. And get out of town right quick." Kiah released her, giving her a slight shove. Katie stumbled as she crossed the short distance to freedom, making sure she never got between the shotguns and the Breedloves. For a moment, she wondered if she should speak up for Whitney. Even he didn't deserve the kind of treatment he was apt to suffer at the hands of ruffians like these. But only for a moment.He'd have abandoned me in a minute, to save his own life. And if he were free, I'd never know when he'd be sneaking up behind me. The Breedloves might mistreat him, but they'd keep him alive, as long as they thought he was worth money to them. With the three shotguns trained steadily on them, the Breedloves escorted Whitney to the livery stable. They saddled quickly, then mounted Whitney behind Moses on a big, rawboned buckskin. "Stop!" Katie cried as they prepared to ride out. "My guns!" "Miss, we ain't got time--" "Whitney stole my guns when he kidnapped me. You wouldn't want me to be

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html without any protection..." She made her chin tremble, a trick that had never worked with her brothers. It did this time. "Give the lady her guns," the bearded man said, lifting the barrel of his shotgun. Moses Breedlove glared, but dug the derringers out of his coat pocket and handed them down to her. Kiah was cursing luridly as the Breedloves and their captive rode away. Once they were gone, Luke stepped from the shadows. He grabbed Katie in his arms and held her close for a moment. "I thought they'd killed you," she sobbed against his chest. "Oh, Luke..." "No time," one of the others said. "He's right," Luke told her, easing her away from him. "Katie, you're going to have to go back to the hotel for a while." "No! Don't leave me!" She'd come too close to losing him already. "I've got to." He took her arm and hurried her along. "You ought to be safe enough, long as you stay out of sight." "Where are you--" "Miss, he's got a job to do for us, and you'd just be in the way." For coming from such a big man, the voice emerging form the beard was curiously soft and gentle. "I give you my word we'll send him back to you, soon as we can." When they reached the street, all three men clustered tightly around her as they crossed, walking at a moderate pace. Katie felt like she was in the middle of the riot, but they got across without incident. Luke escorted her upstairs. "Mind you lock this door. And don't open it to anybody you don't know." "But--" "Katie, love, there's got a war goin' on in this town, and I don't have time for your questions now. Lock your door." He pulled it shut in her face. *** The wagon was waiting at the hotel's back door. Luke and an older man who'd been introduced as One-eye climbed aboard, while the others mounted horses. They took a roundabout way out of town, up the shallow valley to the east, then over the hills and back to the railroad. An hour's travel took them to the water tank

where Luke and Katie had spent the night. Then it was a matter of minutes to load the wagon. They were tying a tarpaulin over the load of Dynamite when Sam and two other men

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html rode up. "They've fired the newspaper," he said, "and there was some talk of breakin' into your store, Jacob. Let's hustle." Grabbing the fiddle case from where it sat on the wagon's seat, Luke said, "Somebody lend me a horse. I've got to get back to town right now!" One of the men who'd accompanied Sam dismounted. "Take mine. You can leave it at the livery when you--" The rest of his words were lost in the wind as Luke spurred the horse toward Bear River City. *** Luke had seen anthills stirred up by a cow's foot that didn't look as busy as the street outside the hotel did. Flames rose from a building farther down--one of the saloons, he surmised--and none of the storefronts in sight retained their windows. Not that all that many had had them last time he looked. Clots of men on the outskirts of the growling, shifting crowd fought teeth and toenail. Not fifty feet from him, Luke saw the flash of a knife. A man fell, bleeding in the cold mud. Shots sounded almost incessantly and, combined with the sound of hundreds of male voices, produced a howl of rage like he'd not heard since Antietam. He'd come into town just behind the burning newspaper office. The back door dangled from on one hinge, and inside the printing press--or what was left of it-- was surrounded by flames. Would he find Katie still in the hotel? Anything could have happened to her in the three hours she'd been alone. Luke's mind tortured him with visions of what anything might have been. He did his best to stay in deep shadow of the hotel as he eased across a gap and toward the hotel. The wooden siding was rough and splintery, no doubt leaving tokens of his passing in the back of his coat. He ducked around the front corner and into the hotel lobby. There wasn't a soul in sight. Luke stuck his head in the kitchen door. Also empty. Stepping lightly, he mounted to the landing, took a quick look out the back window. Not a sign of life. He listened hard. There were no sounds from any of the four upstairs rooms. At the first door, he laid his ear against wood and listened again.Are you still here, Katie? Silence. He pushed lightly, breathed a sigh of relief when the door swung open on an empty room. Using the shotgun barrel to lift the dingy blanket, he bent and looked under the bed. Nothing but dust. The room across the hall was just as empty. Luke moved to the front, to the room he and Katie had occupied. Its door stood half ajar. The abandoned sock lay beside the bed, just where he'd left it. On the washstand he found a crumpled scrap of lace-edged linen and picked it up, holding it to his nose.Was that here before? Luke's gut clenched with worry. The door across the hall was closed. Luke tiptoed to it, cursing under his breath when a floorboard creaked under his weight. He listened, but heard nothing. The doorknob turned easily under his hand, and when he pushed slightly, the door resisted.Locked. He knocked. And waited, flattened against the wall beside the door.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html After a silent count of fifty, he knocked again. And waited again, shotgun at the ready. This time he counted to a hundred before kicking the door in. If there had been anyone in the hotel, the racket it made when it hit the wall would have brought 'em running. Luke waited a moment, then slipped through the doorway. A wool comfort covered the bed. It was mussed, as if someone had slept on it. The room held an odor of cigar smoke and nothing else. As he stood there wondering, he heard a soft sound, one that had no place in an empty building. Luke listened, heard it again. He knelt and peered under the bed. Well back, hard against the wall, was a dark bundle. He looked more closely, and the bundle resolved itself into a familiar blue caped coat, a frayed calico skirt. "Katie?" he whispered, not believing. "Katie, is that you?" CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX A faint whisper. "Luke?" The bundle of rags shifted and became Katie. "Luke! You're safe!" He helped her scoot from under the bed and up onto it, catching her in his arms. "Hey, sweetheart. Are you weepin'?" She clung to him, her hands patting his body, her lips leaving little butterfly kisses across his bristly cheeks. "Oh, Luke, I waited so long...I was so worried about you...are you all right?" "I'm fine," he said, trying to hold her weight off his chest. Maybe that rib was broke, after all. "It takes more than a beating to kill a cowboy." She sat back and looked at him. Although her eyes widened at the sight of his face, she said nothing. But her fingers gently touched his split and swollen lips. "Oh, Luke, I'm so...so relieved! I thought you'd been--" "Hush, now. I'll be fine. Areyou all right?" "Yes. Fit as a fiddle--Oh! You've got my shotgun! And the fiddle case! How...where did you find them?" He had to smile. "They were right where you left them. I reckon the Breedloves didn't think the case was worth their while. I had it fetched from Boot Hill." Luke did his best to get to his feet without grimacing, but he must have been unsuccessful. "Oh, Luke! Sit down. Please!" She pulled at his wrist until the bed caught behind his knees. Without protesting, Luke sat back down.God! I could lay back and sleep a week. "I probably shouldn't say this, but you look like something the dogs got tired of worrying and left in the dirt." He smiled. "Don't make me laugh, please. It hurts too much." He took a deep breath, then let it out. It hurt, but not too much.Maybe bruised and not broke. "How did you get away from those men?" "Oh, they got tired of their game after a while. Then Lafayette came along and showed me the way back to town."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Katie looked again at his face, covered with colorful bruises, one eye swollen almost shut, and a crusted cut over his cheekbone. If he was anything like her brothers, he wouldn't want her to make a fuss, no matter how she wished she could. A volley of shots sounded from the street. "Sounds like things are heatin' up," Luke said. He rose and went to the window, standing beside it and looking out and down over his shoulder. "Somebody's building a barricade, down a ways," he said after a few minutes' observation. "Looks like they're fixing for a real showdown." "Will we be safe here?" Katie knew her question was silly even as she asked it. There was nowhere in Bear River City that was safe. Not tonight. Luke shook his head, not taking his gaze off the street below. "Time for us to get out of town." He held the shotgun out to Katie. "Here. This is yours." She hesitated. "Your rifle?" "Don't know. Up on Boot Hill, maybe? Or one of the Breedloves has it." "Keep the shotgun, then. I've got my derringers." Luke's expression told Katie his opinion of her small pistols. She didn't care. Family legend was that they'd saved more than one of her kin's lives. And she knew how to hit what she aimed at. With Luke in the lead, they crept down the stairs, through the hotel kitchen and out the back door. "Sure wish I knew where the livestock was," he halfwhispered as they emerged into the open. "We've got to get out of town quick as we can, and I'm not good for many miles afoot." He eased around to the front corner of the hotel and peered up and down the street. Katie kept close behind him. "I thought you said you found Lafayette." She said softly, although she could have shouted and nobody more than a yard away would have heard. "Don't you know where he is?" "Last time I saw him was out east of town a ways. Never did see the jennets." "Maybe we can rent a horse and buggy at the livery stable." Luke turned around and regarded her with disgust. "Are you crazy? We're smack dab in the middle of a war and you want to rent a horse and buggy?" "When we left the livery stable, there wasn't anybody about. It can't hurt to try." Once more he looked into the street. "I think we'd better stay on this side until we get past the newspaper office. Let's go." The back walls of the buildings between the hotel and the upper end of the street looked almost like old friends to Katie as she passed one after another. This was the third time--or the fourth?--she'd come this way. She hoped it was the last. Each time they made a dash between buildings, Luke seemed to run more slowly. His face was drawn, his jaw tightly clenched. There were almost to the end of the street when the canvas flap that was the back door of a half-tent-half-log saloon opened in front of them. Before they could do more than step back, a man burst through the opening, gun in hand. "Out of my way," he snarled, raising the pistol.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Luke stepped in front of Katie, shotgun at the ready. "We're doing you no harm, mister. Just let us pass on and we'll forget we even saw you." Katie forced herself to smile, as if she hadn't a care in the world. After a moment's indecision, the man shouldered by them and ran off toward the other end of the street. A shot thudded into the side wall of the next building as he crossed the gap. "Move!" Luke rasped at Katie. He pushed her ahead of him roughly, forcing her to trot. They reached the last shanty at the end of the street. Now they had to cross. Luke again peered down the street. "I don't know what's goin' on down there, but it's sure keeping 'em interested. How fast can you run?" "I reckon I'd keep up with you," she told him. "Okay. Run for it!" Katie ran as fast as she could. Even so, the street seemed to have widened by another mile. At least this time she wasn't alone. Behind her Luke's footsteps kept time with hers. The livery stable was locked up tight, a padlock on the small side door. "There's got to be a back way in," Katie said. "Are your guns loaded?" Katie nodded. "Let me have one, then." Luke waited for another rattle of gunfire before shooting the lock off. "Inside." The cavernous barn was dark, with no lantern lit and both big loft doors closed. Snuffles and nickers told her there were horses here, but all she could see were lighter and darker shadows. "I guess we pick by feel," he said. "Won't be the first time." "You're a horse thief?" Katie teased, wondering why she felt so exhilarated. She should still be scared stiff. "Every soldier is, once or twice." He moved away and Katie soon heard him open the gate to the small pen in which several horses had been last night. "Ah, there, my beauty. Friendly are you?" His voice was a croon. A man who loved horses. "I'll be right back," Katie called softly. She felt her way along until she came to the end wall. There had been a coil of rope and some gunnysacks. There! When she grabbed the gunnysacks, she saw that they'd been lying on top of a metal bin. It was about a quarter full of moldy grain. Quickly Katie scooped some into one of the gunnysacks and tied its mouth closed.This is becoming a habit. When I get home I'll have to send the hostler money to pay for all the feed I've stolen. Something thumped against the outer wall. "Who's there?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. The last thing they wanted was for someone to find them in here. She stood totally still, listening. Another thump. The sound seemed to be getting farther away, as if whoever it was moved toward the back end of the barn. But it sounded like footsteps. Of many feet. Her belly a mass of ice, her legs frozen in place, she stared into the

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html darkness toward the barn door. Moving slowly so she would make no sound, she drew back against the wall and crouched. With her dark clothing, she should be invisible, as long as she kept her face averted. She just hoped that Luke had been listening. A moment later there was a squeal of protesting hinges. Then nothing. Only the occasional nicker of a drowsy horse broke the silence inside the barn. Outside was a different matter. The noise level had increased again, an enraged growl that waxed and waned like the breaking of storm waves on a beach. Only when she'd walked the storm-ridden beach, Katie hadn't felt like she was caught in the middle of a war. "Katie?" Luke's voice. "Katie, where are you?" She was afraid to answer. "Katie," Luke called again. Laughter, of all things, sounded in his voice. "You'll never guess who found their way back." All Katie could think, with a vast sense of relief, wasNow he won't have to steal a horse. They packed some horse blankets Luke had found into a second gunnysack and tied the two together with a length of rope. Luke slung them across Lafayette's back. "Sure wish you'd take a rider," Luke told the mule. "I sure don't cotton to ridin' Salome." "I'll ride her," Katie said. She owed the cantankerous donkey something for coming to the rescue last night. "You're in no shape to fight with her." To her great surprise, Luke agreed.He must be hurting a whole lot. Before they left the stable, she took time to open all the gates in the stable and push the doors wide enough ajar that escape was possible. Perhaps the stable was perfectly safe, but in the event of fire, she wanted the livestock it housed to have a fighting chance. Katie used the last of her pilfered rope to fashion a lead line for Lafayette. While she was working, Salome tried to take a chunk out of her coat sleeve. Sheba would follow Lafayette, even without guidance. A good thing, because Luke seemed to be moving more slowly and having trouble concentrating. Full dark had fallen by the time she led the animals around the end of the livery stable and up the same gulch they'd followed last night.Only last night? It seems ages ago. Once they were safely out of sight of town, she aimed Salome up the hill to the west. Somewhere in that direction was Evanston. It was up to her to find it. But first she had to find a place they could spend the night. She needed daylight to find her way overland. Besides, Luke was in no shape to be riding. It seemed to Luke they'd been riding for hours when Katie finally halted Salome and slid from the ass's back. He'd been half-lying along Sheba's back for most of the ride, alternately dizzy and queasy. When he tried to force himself upright, his ribs protested with a sudden knifelike pain. "Can you get down?" Katie said, her hand on his shoulder. "Sure can," he said, and let himself slide to one side. The trouble was, his

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html legs seemed to belong to somebody else. They just sort of folded up and let him sprawl on the ground. "Luke! Are you all right?" She knelt beside him, clutching at his shoulders. "Fine," he mumbled. "I'm jus' fine." He rolled over and looked up at her. "Tired is all. So tired." He felt himself drift toward sleep, then caught at a drifting thought. "Whitney? Where's Whitney?" "He's gone," Katie said, "with the Breedloves. I told them his family would pay them a big ransom to get him back." Luke considered that for a moment, while Katie got up and went somewhere out of his field of view. At last he decided it made no sense. "It ain't like Kiah Breedlove to let a woman loose just to get his hands on money." She came back and knelt beside him, sliding one arm behind him and helping him to sit up. "Those three shotguns might have convinced him." "Yeah," Luke said with satisfaction. Then his breath whistled between his teeth as Katie squeezed his ribs. "Hold on there, woman. I'm a mite tender around the middle." She loosened her hug. "Tender? Luke, are your ribs broken?" He considered. "Well, maybe not all of 'em," he admitted, "but one or two, maybe." So quick it made his head swim even worse, she'd helped him over to a hollow under a big cedar, leaned him against the trunk, and had his coat open. "This is going to hurt," he told him and she tugged on one sleeve, "but we've got to get your ribs strapped up. My brother had a broken rib once and Pa said it could puncture one of his lungs if he wasn't careful." She eased him out of the coat, slowly and gently, but it still caused a couple of bad moments. Feeling like a helpless baby, Luke held still under her ministrations. The icy air raised goose bumps on his hide when she finally opened his shirt and unbuttoned his underwear so she could see his ribs. "My God, you're nothing but one big bruise." "A few cuts, but nothing to worry about." Her fingers touched him here and there, softly, like healing kisses. Luke gasped. "Yes, you definitely have a broken rib. Don't move." An uncomfortable while later, he was wrapped tightly from armpit to belly button in strips Katie had torn from her silk petticoat. For the first time since he'd awakened up on Boot Hill, he felt like he could take a deep breath without being cut in half. When she helped him turn and lie down on the bed she'd made from cedar branches, his ribs only gave a twinge. "I'll be back in a minute," Katie said, as she laid his coat across his torso and one of the saddle blankets over his legs. "I want to feed the animals a bit" "Coat pocket," he said, feeling like he couldn't keep his eyes open one more minute. "Food." She dug into his pocket. "Oh, Luke, lemon drops!" She leaned over and kissed him. For the life of him, Luke Savage couldn't kiss her back. He was asleep even as

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html her lips touched his. Feeling the lack of response, Katie drew back. But Luke's face was relaxed, his mouth slack. She listened for a moment to his breathing. Slow and even. He was asleep. "Poor Luke," she breathed, "you must be worn out." She tucked the coat more firmly around his shoulders. Neither of them had slept last night. And while her day had been frightful, his must have been hell. He'd been shot. The beating he'd received at the hands of the Breedloves would have put many men to bed for a week. On top of that, he'd led the townsmen to a cache of Dynamite--how in the world did he know where it was?--searched for her, and ridden a donkey bareback for at least two hours. Tomorrow she intended to make him tell her more about his adventures while she was being held captive. His terse account during their ride out of town had left a lot out, she was certain. She made sure the animals were securely tied, told Salome to leave the knots alone.If they were to wander off, we'd be in a lot of trouble. Tomorrow they'd reach Evanston and she'd send a wire to her pa. Surely he was checking at the telegraph office in Salt Lake City daily, wondering why she was so late arriving. But Pa wasn't one to worry overmuch. He'd taught his children to take care of themselves, and expected them to do a good job of it. I don't know how proud you'll be of me, Pa. I haven't done a very good job of taking care of myself. And I've made some really foolish mistakes lately. The most foolish of all was falling in love with Luke Savage. She picked up the other two horse blankets and returned to where Luke lay on the bed of cedar branches. His face was cool but not cold, his breathing even. Even in the dim starlight, she could see the bruises that marred his face, the ear that drooped as if its cartilage was broken. Snuggling down beside him, she pulled the blankets over them both. In the few seconds between getting horizontal and falling asleep, Katie felt Luke's hand grope for hers. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN I'd give anything for a real bed to sleep inwas the first thought in Luke's mind. It lasted less than a second after he discovered that there was a warm, womanly form snuggled against him. The lumpy bed of cedar branches under him was no longer important, nor were the aches all over his body. A faint, elusive fragrance of lilac teased his nose and he remembered. For a while he just lay there, enjoying the feel of Katie in his arms, the warmth of her against him. Gradually he became aware of wanting her, a quiet need unlike the raw hunger that usually drove his infrequent sexual encounters. Holding her like this was almost enough. She stirred. "Luke?" He kissed her earlobe, his nose twitching when her hair tickled across it. "Yeah, it's me." "How do you feel? Are you still in pain?" What a question to ask the man you're in bed with!"Only in places, sweetheart,"

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html he whispered. "Where...oh!" She laughed softly. Holding her, at peace with the world, Luke realized that the night was dead silent. The noise from town, a deep, bone-shaking rumble, was lacking. Even the wind, which had blown ever since they'd come down from the hills, seemed to have stilled. "It's so quiet," Katie said against his neck, the movement of her lips sending surges of desire through him. "Like there's no world out there." Unbidden a phrase popped into his mind:the silence of the grave. Luke shuddered and cast the thought away. He was alive and so was Katie. It was up to him to see that they stayed that way. With a bone-deep sense of rightness, he knew there was only one way to affirm that they lived. "Katie," he whispered into her hair, "I want to love you." She went totally still, then seemed to melt into his embrace. "Yes," she breathed. "Oh, yes, Luke. Now!" There was no hurry. The night could not end until they had drunk their fill of each other. With tormenting slowness, he sought the woman buried in layers of wool, cotton and silk. She had slept under her coat, with the tattered red shawl wrapped loosely about her upper body. He laid it open, pressed his mouth against the fabric of her dress. Her heart pounded against his lips, as his pounded in his ears. Buttons that had once given him trouble now slipped free with his slightest touch, despite his swollen, stiff fingers. On each inch of her skin that was bared, he lavished kisses, and when he reached the lace of her camisole, he nuzzled against it, mouthing her breasts through the fabric, finding their engorged peaks. His suckling made him aware of a lacerated tongue, bruised lips, but they didn't matter. Katie was in his arms. Her hands clasped his head, held it tightly against her breasts. "Ah, Luke, you make me so hungry for you. But let me, please--" She pushed him away, reached for his belt buckle. "I want to touch you." Luke hesitated. The last time she'd laid hands on him, he'd disgraced himself. Oh, maybe Katie hadn't seen it that way, but he'd been mortified. Need overcame embarrassment. "Go ahead." He reached for his britches buttons. "No, let me." Her fingers were nimble and quick. Before he knew it, they daintily touched the skin of his belly, dancing across his skin. She stroked across the silk wrappings around his ribs and to his bare shoulders, her touch sending lightning bolts of desire deep into his aching groin. When Luke groaned, she slipped her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled his neck. "Careful," he warned, his voice hoarse and gasping. "I know," she said with a trace of laughter. Her hands left him, her mouth retreated. Luke reached out. "Be patient," Katie told him, opening the last two buttons of her bodice. Quickly she disposed of the dress, then the petticoats. Slipping out of her drawers was a second's work, and she was naked. "Brrr!" she said, slipping back

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html under the blankets. "Make me warm, Luke!" "Oh, God," he groaned. With hands sure and strong, he pulled her close against him, stroked her back, cupped her breasts and lifted them, one at a time to a mouth that ravaged, laved, suckled, and brought her perilously close to that precipice of excitement she yearned for. But his movements were clumsy as he rose over her and Katie remembered how carefully he had moved yesterday. How he had slid bonelessly from Sheba's back last night. Strong Luke. Noble Luke. "You brave, wonderful man," she whispered. "Let me." She gently pushed him onto his back and rose on her elbow beside him. "There now. Don't move a muscle unless I tell you." With one finger, she traced around his navel, wishing she could see him as more than a faint, pale shape in the stygian darkness. His belly retreated, as if her touch burned him. And when she delved into the thick hair--red as that on his head, she recalled--whence his sex jutted high and proud, a shudder convulsed him. Katie amused herself for a while, just exploring him with her fingertips, her palms. He was hot to her touch, and so hard, so strong. She tasted him, causing deep shudders to wrack his body, an agonized groan to break from his lips. Much as she would like to bring him to the same mind-shattering culmination as he had once given her, she pulled back.Another time , she promised herself, refusing to recognize that any future for them was precarious. Above its silken wrappings, his chest was smooth and sculpted from a lifetime's hard work. His thighs rippled with muscle, his arms as well. Across one shoulder she found a thick ridge of scar tissue. Her fingers traced it, from juncture of neck and shoulder nearly to his armpit. "What is it?" she whispered, almost weeping at the thought of his pain when it was inflicted. "Saber cut," he said. "My first battle." "Oh, Luke. How it must have hurt." "Not anywhere near as bad as I'm hurting now, Katie girl." His hands found her face, framed it, and with gentle but inexorable force, pulled her down across him. Without hesitation his mouth found hers. Minutes or hours later Luke lifted his mouth. "We've got to get going soon. Dawn can't be far off." Katie glanced at the sky, lightening now through the cedars sheltering branches. "Then let's not waste any time." She rose to her knees, swung her leg across him. "You can move now," she said as she hovered above him. He became still as a stone statue. Silence, then, "Are you sure?" "Anything could happen today, Luke. I want to be able to face it without regret." His hands locked around her waist and he guided her down upon himself. Katie gasped as the thick shaft of his sex penetrated her, with pleasure and just a little pain. He was awfully big. Then her body adjusted, became slick and wet, and he slid farther inside her. Such a remarkable sensation, stretching and swelling and yielding and....He pulled her down hard against him, filling her completely.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "Oh!" The sharp sense of being torn in half was gone almost as quickly as it had come. Katie let Luke hold her still, feeling her body become reconciled to his invasion. At last he lifted her, just a little, and heat rose from her belly to suffuse her torso, her arms and legs, even her face. "Oh, my!" "It'll get better in a minute," Luke said, his voice sounding strained, as if he was lifting something enormously heavy. "I don't see how it could," she said, moving experimentally. As she lowered herself slightly, she felt the slick friction of him within her. She moved, this time retreating a little more, then swiftly took all of him again into herself. "Katie." A warning. "But it feels so good." "I'll show you good," he growled. Hands like iron grasped her waist and held her in place. His pelvis slammed up against her, burying his shaft so deeply she felt its tip against her womb. Again and again he thrust against her, until her whole being was focused on the building fire within. Higher and higher it rose, until it seemed it could grow no more, yet still it built. One last time Luke thrust against her with a shout of triumph. And then the imprisoned fire burst free, filling Katie with mindless, all- consuming rapture. A long time later, she felt Luke draw her down against his side, knew his lips were softly touching her temple, relaxed even more under the stroke of his hands against her spine. "I love you," she breathed. In her mind, she heard his reply.I love you, Katie. But her ears heard, "Let's move," as he clumsily rolled away and groped for his clothing. *** "Sure wish we could follow the railroad," Luke muttered, the fourth or fifth time they crossed a rocky draw. His legs somehow didn't want to tighten around Sheba's barrel and he felt in constant danger of falling off. They weren't making any time at all, either. Fortunately the wind hadn't picked up yet this morning. He hoped it would hold off until they reached Evanston. If the snow in those clouds decided to fall, wind would only make their travel more difficult. Katie edged Salome closer to him. "What did you say?" The cranky ass tried to bite him on the knee. But at least she was letting herself be ridden without complaint. "Just wishing we could be closer to the railroad. If it starts snowing, we could miss Evanston altogether." "I don't see why we can't now follow it now. We're a long way from Bear River City." "Yeah, well, don't forget the Breedloves are still out there." "I can't believe they'd bother with us. Besides, Whitney's their prisoner, so they've probably forgotten about us." Luke looked across at her. She had the tattered red shawl wrapped around her

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html head and shoulders and the color brought out the color in her cheeks. He didn't reckon he'd ever seen a prettier sight. He stared, imprinting the vision on his mind, saving it up for days when all they'd had together seemed only a dream. "My pa always said not to believe a rattlesnake couldn't bite until you'd cut off its head," was all he replied. "I wonder what happened to the other one. The cousin." "Malachi?" "Yes. He was different from the two who have Whitney. More of a gentleman- -if a shootist can be a gentleman." "Shootist or not, if Malachi had any sense, he'd be long gone by now." "I suppose you're right. Still, I wonder..." Her voice trailed off. They climbed one low hill after another. Each time they approached a crest, Luke insisted on dismounting and creeping up to peer over. He never saw a living soul, but felt better for looking. The sounds from Bear River City faded with distance until only the thud and scrape of the animals' feet marred the stillness. The next time they crossed a trail, he turned Sheba onto it. This far off the main road to Evanston, they were probably safe enough. If he'd been in a saddle instead of riding bareback, Luke would have dozed as they rode along the faint, winding trail that seemed to lead in the direction they were headed. Suddenly an explosion shattered the silence, echoing and reechoing between the hills. "What was that?" Katie said, turning to look behind them. "Sounds to me like they used the Dynamite." Katie stared at him. Was he laughing? "You were going to tell me how you knew where the Dynamite was." "Remember those big crates we leaned against in that shed under the windmill? The ones stacked against the wall?" "What about them--oh, no! Luke, they weren't--." Now he could laugh about it--and did. "Yep. Plumb full of Dynamite. That's what we did after you went back to the hotel. Led the others to it so they could fight them who wanted to keep Bear River City wide open and lawless." Her voice was small and weak-sounding. "And you knew it was Dynamite? While we were sleeping right there beside it?" "Not until we were about to leave. I didn't want to scare you, so I kept quiet." "That was kind of you. Oh, God! We even had a fire in there." "And we're still here to talk about it. No harm done." "You're right, but still...I get goose bumps just thinking about it." Luke opened his mouth to tease her, but closed it again when rapid hoof beats sounded from behind them. He turned Sheba sideways on the trail before he pulled the shotgun from its makeshift sheath at his knee and held it ready. There was no place to hide, so the next best thing was to face up to whatever came. "Stay behind me," he told Katie. To his surprise, she obeyed without protest. Three horses trotted into sight. Luke recognized the riders. He made sure the

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shotgun was plainly visible. "Howdy, boys," he said. They pulled up, the two Breedlove brothers and, mounted on a led horse, Hamilton Steens Whitney III. Hatless, his overcoat dusty, a tear in the knee of his wool britches, he looked anything but a rich Eastern dude. "Fancy meeting you here, Savage," Moses said. "I reckon we're headed the same place," he replied. "What I can't figure is why you ain't got there yet." "Don't see it's any of your business, but we shacked up at a ranch." Kiah rubbed his belly. "Hated to leave. The old woman was a fine cook." He looked beyond Luke and nodded. "Mornin', gal." His eyes gleamed hungrily as he stared at Katie. "You figure you're safe with this here pilgrim?" Luke's finger tightened involuntarily on the shotgun trigger. "I am indeed, Mr. Breedlove. And I'd appreciate it if you'd just ride on about your business. Mr. Savage has engaged to guide me to meet my father in Evanston." "You sure you're up to takin' care of this lady, Savage?" Moses said. "She's a right handful for a man crippled up like you." Luke opened his mouth to answer when Whitney shouted, "Put up your hands, all of you!" Dirty hands slapped an empty holster. "Dammit, he swiped my gun!" Kiah cried. Whitney held the big Colt with both hands. It was aimed in Katie's direction. Luke slipped the shotgun into its makeshift scabbard and raised his hands. "For God's sake, do what he says, boys. He's crazy as a hoot-owl." A bullet seared across Luke's upper arm. "Don't call me crazy!" Whitney screamed. Instantly he pointed the gun back at Katie. "Throw your guns on the ground. All of them! Or I'll kill her." "Drop your guns, Kiah," Moses said, doing as he was told. "Don't rile him." Kiah complied. Both of his pistols thudded into the sand. Luke kept his hands high, hoping Whitney wouldn't notice the half-hidden shotgun stock. Hot blood ran sluggishly down his arm and dripped off his elbow. He didn't reckon the wound amounted to much, but it could slow him down some. Eyes shifting rapidly back and forth, Whitney guided his horse past Luke and close to Katie. "Very good. Now, Miss Lachlan, you will pick up the guns these cretins dropped and bring them to me." When she hesitated, he said, "Afoot, if you please. Immediately." Katie stared back at him, wondering why she hadn't stood up to him long ago.

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "I think you'd better kill me. If you're man enough." "Come here, I said. You must obey me!" "I don't know why I should," she said, hoping the derringer in her offside pocket was loaded and primed. Why hadn't she checked it? "I'd rather die than submit to you." "Don't be ridiculous. I want you for my wife. You will have every luxury your heart desires. You will have social position, second only to my mother. I shall cherish you, pamper you beyond your wildest dreams." Slowly she drew the small pistol free of her skirt. "I am fully sensible of the honor you do me, Mr. Whitney, but I find I must respectfully decline." With her last word, she aimed as best she could and fired. At once she reached into the other pocket for the gun's twin. "You bitch!Howdare you!" Whitney raised the gun he held to shoulder level and aimed carefully. Katie could see his finger tightening on the trigger as she raised her second derringer. Throwing herself to one side, she fired in the same instant that Whitney did. "I love you, Luke Savage!" she cried as she fell. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT The shotgun blast drowned out Luke's bellow of rage. He triggered the second barrel, even as he saw Whitney fall from the saddle. Then he dove for the pistols the Breedloves had dropped. One he stuffed under his belt, another he kept in his hand. Hooves thudded all around him, too close for comfort. He rolled, saw that Moses was still in the saddle, but the other two horses were riderless.Kiah! Where the hell-A few feet from him, Katie lay prone, unmoving. She had dropped like a discarded rag doll. Now she sprawled as limp as a half-empty empty grain sack. And just beyond her Kiah Breedlove knelt, a long, heavy knife in his hand. "Stay away from her, Kiah," Luke warned, rolling to his feet. "You want to fight me for her?" Kiah also stood, stepped closer to Katie. "Just us two. Winner takes the woman." He licked his lips. "Pretty little gal. Strong, too. Bet she'd last me a while." Luke shot him. He emptied the gun into Kiah's body, firing until the hammer came down on an empty chamber. Then he spun, pulling the other gun from his waistband. With a tight grip on the reins, Moses stared back at Luke. His horse was white-eyed, still spooked. "You killed him." His hand went to an empty holster. "You killed my brother." Luke said nothing, only waited. The queasy sickness in his gut seemed unimportant, beside his worry over Katie. She still hadn't moved. "Somebody ought to have done it a long time ago. Kiah was a bad man." The voice came from behind Luke. He kept his eyes and his gun on Moses. "Malachi!" "What happened here?" Malachi Breedlove walked into Luke's sight. His guns were holstered, his hands swinging easy beside them. Without looking away from Moses, Luke said, "Whitney got a gun, threatened to kill Kat--Miss Lachlan if she wouldn't go with him."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "She's his wife." "She ain't, but I don't reckon it matters any more," Luke told him, gesturing at where Whitney's body lay twisted on the frozen mud of the trail. "You shot him, too?" "Yes." "No, I did." The voice trembled, broke. "Is he dead?" Luke forgot everything else. "Katie? Oh, God, girl, how bad are you shot?" "I...I don't know. Not bad, I think. My arm--" He knelt beside her, scared to touch her, afraid not to, and laid a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Where, sweetheart? Where are you shot?" She lifted her head to show him a dusty, tear-stained face. "Actually, I don't think I am. But I fell on my arm, and it hurts like the dickens." "He couldn't have missed, not at that range!" "Believe me, I felt that bullet whiz by my ear closer than I liked. But he missed." One hand came up to cup his cheek. "Honest, Luke. I'm all in one piece. But I really need a kiss." "So do I." He kissed her long and thoroughly. In fact, he would have kept on doing it, had not something hard prodded him between the shoulders. Tearing his mouth from Katie's, he rolled to his back. Well-honed reflexes took over and he had the gun he still held trained on Moses before he was half turned. The man had been poking him with a broken cedar branch. He dropped the stick, raised his hands to shoulder height. "Malachi says we gotta get this mess sorted out so's we can hit the trail before tomorrow." Rising to his feet, Luke discovered new aches, particularly in the hip he'd landed on. He looked over at Malachi. "What about Kiah?" It was bad enough he'd be charged with Whitney's death. If he had to keep an eye out for Breedloves the rest of his life, he might as well give up all hope for a future with Katie. Moses shrugged. "Like Malachi said, he was a bad man. Sometimes he done things that troubled me." His voice was unsteady until he cleared his throat. "Now, lookee here, Savage, I don't give a damn what you do, just as long as you won't fight me for who takes the dude's body in. I figure his people will pay for it, if they're as rich as he said." "I rather think they will, Mr. Breedlove," Katie said. "His family is very important, back in Boston. And very wealthy." Luke spared her a quick glance. She was reloading one of her derringers.Good girl! "Hmmm." Moses tilted his hat sideways and scratched beneath it. "You got any idea of how we might get word to 'em?" Ignoring them, Luke considered his chances. This time there would be no understanding Marshall, no sympathetic ear. As soon as Whitney's family found out who'd killed him, Luke would be hunted down like a calf-killing coyote. His ears pricked up, though, when Katie said, "I can give you his father's name, so you can telegraph him. Just don't say who killed Whitney until I can talk to my pa. He'll sort this all out." Luke rounded on her. "Your pa's got no need to stick his nose in my business. All I want is a head start. Maybe his kin will never find me." "But Luke--"

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html "You are talkin' though your hat, Savage, if you think I'm giving you credit for killing that varmint," Moses interrupted. "Now I ain't fool enough to tell his pa who done it, but at the same time, word will get around. Then folks will pay some attention to us Breedloves." "Will you twonoble gentlemen stop talking as if I'm not even here.I killed Hamilton Steens Whitney III, and neither of you is talking the blame for me." Katie struggled to her feet, favoring her left arm. Luke moved to assist her, but a sharp glare stopped him in his tracks. Her right hand held the derringer, not quite aimed at Malachi Breedlove. "Is that really his name?" Moses marveled. "Fanciest handle I heard in all my born days." "Katie, you can't admit to killing him," Luke told her. "Let me--" "Hold it," Malachi said. "I never saw two people more eager to get themselves into a whole pot of hot water. You didn't shoot Whitney, ma'am. Neither of your shots even came close." "I didn't?" "Another inch and she'd'a took my ear off," Moses said. "Never saw a woman could shoot straight." "You're certain?" She almost sounded disappointed. Luke was relieved. Katie might tell herself she was strong and tough as any man, but he'd seen the soft, sweet woman underneath and knew she'd never be able to reconcile herself to having killed a man. "It's purely a wonder, gal, that Savage managed to outshoot Japhet," Moses said, "seein' as how he don't seem able to hit the broad side of a barn with a barrel of buckshot." "What do you mean?" Luke went perfectly still as he waited for the answer. "My cousin Moses is a dead shot with his sleeve gun," Malachi said. "Maybe he ought to give you lessons." "I don't believe--" Malachi turned the dusty body over so they could see the bullet hole in Whitney's throat. Snow was falling on his face, veiling the hideous emptiness of death. His neck was distorted and purplish where the large-caliber bullet had entered at close range. Powder burns surrounded the wound. "Oh!" Katie's voice was faint. "He'd have been mighty sore from that peppering of buckshot, but it wasn't enough to kill him. Slowed him down some, and gave Moses time to get close enough." Luke hadn't noticed the falling snow until now. "You say we're even, and that's fine by me. But I'm not letting you take Kat--Miss Lachlan." "Hellsfire! You can keep the gal." Moses spat. "She's more trouble than she's worth. Ain't that right, Malachi?" Instead of answering his cousin, Malachi Breedlove turned to Katie. "Now that he's dead, it doesn't matter, anymore, but I would like to know the truth. Was he your husband?" "No, he was not. I give you my word that I had never seen Mr. Whitney before he tried to kidnap me in Council Bluffs."

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html He looked at her for a long time. Finally he nodded. "Then I am sorry, Miss Lachlan, for all the grief I caused you. I hope you will forgive me. I was only doing a job." Katie's smile seemed forced to Luke, but she said, "I don't blame you, Mr. Breedlove. I'm sure he was very convincing." "Hey, Malachi, what're you waitin' for?" Moses called. "The sooner we git this carcass across a horse, the sooner we'll git the reward." Malachi nodded again, and went to help Moses with Kiah's body. Luke helped Katie mount Salome, earning himself a hard bite on his good arm. The Breedloves tied Whitney's body behind Kiah's on the spare horse. Then they mounted. "Maybe you'd consider givin' me back my guns, Savage?" Moses said. Luke had forgotten how comfortably a pistol stock lay across his palm, how snugly his finger curled around the trigger. He hefted first one, then the other, reluctant to give them up. No! He picked up the two pistols still on the ground and handed them to Katie. "Unload them. Then load the shotgun and give it to me." He waited until he had the shotgun in hand, then handed the fourth pistol to Katie. After unloading it, she looked at Luke, a question in her eyes. "I'll leave 'em at the telegraph office in Evanston. You can pick 'em up there." He stuck two under his belt, a third into the one untorn pocket of his coat, and handed the fourth to Katie. He looked up at Malachi. "I'll have your word you won't try to take her again." Malachi said, "You have it. We've no more quarrel with either of you." He turned his horse and headed it down the trail. Before Moses could ride away, Luke called to him. "I'm obliged to you," he said, "for shooting Whitney. And I'm sorry about Kiah. He didn't give me any choice." Katie stepped up beside him. "I am grateful too, Mr. Breedlove. I feared Whitney and almost hated him, but I wouldn't want to have killed him." Arms resting on his saddle horn, Moses stared off into the distance. "Far as I know, we came upon him just a'layin' in the trail, where some thievin' bushwhacker had shot him dead," he said, a slight smile on his face. "Ain't that about how you see it?" "I'd just as soon not be asked," Luke told him, "but if you need my word, send to--" "Send to Boise City. Care of Emmet Lachlan." She reached up and touched Moses's hand lightly. "You didn't mean to, Mr. Breedlove, but you saved my life. For that I thank you." Red-faced, Moses wheeled his horse and spurred him into a trot. As they rounded the next bend, Luke heard him say, "Hell's fire, Malachi. We go around doin' good deeds, and pretty soon nobody's gonna have any respect atall for us'ns." Luke mounted Sheba and turned her head toward the west. He looked at Katie, who

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html was staring after the departing Breedloves. "Something wrong?" She shook her head. "No. But I was just thinking what a strange, lonely man he is. And so young." "Moses? He's no youngster." "Malachi. When he apologized to me, he suddenly looked about the age of my brother, Sam. Sixteen or so." "He's a man, Katie, no matter how old he is. Those guns he carries prove it." *** Katie and Luke rode into Evanston near dusk, having continued to wend their way through the hills northeast of the river bottom. She didn't understand why they had stayed out of sight, now that the threat of Whitney and the Breedlove brothers was gone. But Luke had insisted, and she'd chosen not to argue with him. She was marshalling her forces for the big argument that would come later. Evanston was even smaller than Bear River City, but it lacked the temporary appearance of the town they'd escaped from. This raw, new settlement showed ambition to be more than a Hell-on-Wheels. Respectable looking folks walked briskly along the short street, and there were no more saloons than there were restaurants. Katie felt far more comfortable here. Two buildings advertised room and board, and one even had a vacancy. Katie decided she'd give half of her remaining gold for a bath. She slid from Salome's back in front of the livery stable, automatically jumping out of range of the donkey's teeth. Luke seemed to move more easily, she noticed as he dismounted. They both worked to untie the ropes holding the grain sack and Katie's fiddle case from Lafayette's back. "I'll do this," Luke said. "You dig out enough to pay for their board. I've no money at all." "But you had--" Then she remembered one of the Breedloves pulling Luke's purse from his pocket. "Never mind." His hands smoothed snow from Lafayette's coat, wiped away the wet smears where friction between horse and makeshift harness had turned dust and snow into sticky mud. "I'll pay you back." "You are the most contumacious man I've ever seen!" she said, wanting to stamp her foot. She knelt and dug into the fiddle case, practically empty now, since she'd used her silk petticoat to strap his ribs and her favorite cashmere scarf to warm his ears. The blue wool scarf she'd given him earlier was long gone, probably the same place as his hat. His sheepskin coat that she'd so envied was torn and drafty, a result of the beating he'd endured. The small leather bag held only a few coins and bills. She poured it all into her hand and counted. They might have enough to get themselves to Salt Lake City, but what were they going to do about the livestock? She'd never considered them before. They couldn't ride a stage, nor could the donkeys run along beside it. And she knew there wasn't enough here to board them through the winter. Biting her lip, she looked up at Luke. "How long do you reckon it would take

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html us to get to Salt Lake City, horseback?" If they used her money for food and grain, they could follow the stage line, perhaps even stay at some of the stations overnight. The journey shouldn't take more than-"Are you crazy? Why do we want toride ? What's wrong with the stage?" "Well, we don't want to leave them behind." She pointed over her shoulder at Salome, Sheba, and Lafayette, who stood patiently in the gently falling snow, getting whiter by the minute. "Weain't leaving anybody behind. Not for long, anyhow." Extending his hand, he helped her to her feet. "After I've seenyou... " A callused finger poked her in the chest, but somehow the touch had nothing of the lover about it. "...safely to your pa--and gotten the rest of my pay, of course--Iam coming back here to get my stock." "The dickens you are!" "Damn it, Katie, if you think I'm gonna let you talk me into ridin' the rest of the way to Salt Lake City, you've got another think comin'." "Luke..." "Now, let's find the livery--" "Luke Savage, I love you, but--" "--and then we'll look for--what'd you say?" "But I willnot leave those animals behind. Why they're...well, they're just like family, after all we've been through together." Luke looked as if he couldn't make up his mind whether she was joshing him or not. He rubbed a hand across his chin, his whiskers rasping against his callused palm. At last he said, "I reckon I could find work enough around here to pay our keep until we can get word to your pa." She nodded. "I could probably wait tables or something." "No you won't! I promised to take care of you, Katie, and that's what I'll do. For as long as you'll let me." She smiled up at him, her heart in her eyes. "We can talk about that later," she said, not sure if he'd meant what he'd said quite the way she wanted to take it. "Now, let's go see how many provisions half my money will buy." He grabbed her arm and turned her around. "No, now let's go get us a room. And baths." "What a wonderful idea," Katie said. "Can I go first?" Time enough to argue later. They didn't have to send a telegram to Pa right now. They were close enough to Salt Lake City that he could be here in a few days, the way he traveled. They had enough money to last them that long, if they shared a room. And she wouldn't have it any other way, no matter how stubborn Lucas Savage got. To her surprise, he didn't even argue the point. Bathed and feeling fresh, despite having to wear the same old clothes, Katie and Luke joined the other residents of the boarding house for supper. They were the center of conversation when the others learned that they had lately come from

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html Bear River City. Telegraph messages from the ill-fated town had told the story of its final battle. Now the town was virtually deserted, according to the latest reports. Katie felt not the slightest regret. Steaming slices of dried apple pie were traveling around the table when a man across the table said softly, "Take a gander, folks. There's one of those old Mountain Men you read about." Luke turned around and so did she. The man standing in the doorway wore fringed buckskins and carried a long rifle of a sort seldom seen any more. His thick, straight hair fell to his shoulders, silvery, but still containing glints of gold. "Pa!" Instantly she was out of her chair and into her father's arms. "Oh, Pa, I'm so glad to see you!" She buried her nose in his chest and let the tears she'd held back so many times flow freely. "Which one of you is Lucas Savage?" Emmet Lachlan said. A chair scraped the floor behind Katie. "I am, sir. And I am purely relieved to see you." A soft chuckled vibrated against Katie's ear where it lay against her father's chest. "Led you a merry chase, did she?" Another chuckle, this one louder. "Turn loose, child and let me shake this man's hand. If he hadn't had the good sense to let me know where you were, I'd be gettin' a mite worried." "Your daughter, Mr. Lachlan, is the most stubborn, quarrelsome, perverse female I have ever seen." A small silence as Luke's face reddened. "Meaning no disrespect to you and her ma, sir." "Yes, well, she always did like to do things her own way. I reckon you'll be pleased to have me take her off your hands." Katie sent Luke a pleading look.Don't say it, please. Don't wound me this way. He looked back at her, his expression unreadable. "As for that, I'd like to talk to you in private, Mr. Lachlan. After you've had some supper, of course." Her pa slapped Luke on the shoulder and agreed. They spoke of the War while the landlady served Emmet Lachlan still-warm stew and a thick slice of bread. The other diners gradually drifted away as nothing exciting happened. "Pa," she said, once his plate was empty, "I want to talk to you too." He nodded. "All in good time." "First. Before Luke does. Alone." "You've been up to devilment again, have you, girl?" She shook her head. Below the level of the table, her fingers twined and twisted, as she sought the words to tell her father that she loved this man who didn't love her back. Pa had always known what to do to make her happy. This time, she was afraid, he might not. "Why don't you and me go out on the porch for a spell, Mr. Lachlan. Katie can stay here in the parlor where it's warm." "No!" Katie moderated her voice. "Pa, I want to talk to you first, please." Her father looked from her to Luke and back again. "Seems to me," he said, pulling a pipe from his possibles bag, "that the two of you would be better

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html off to do your talking at the same time." "I don't think that's a good--" "Pa, you really need to hear--" "Upstairs." When Pa used that voice, Katie knew better than to argue. Each step seemed to carry her closer to heartbreak. When Luke opened the door and stepped aside to let her enter, she tried to catch his eye. He kept his gaze firmly on the floor. At last Pa's pipe was lit. Once more Katie found herself twisting her fingers into knots as she sought the right words. "Well, young man?" Emmet said, raising his gaze to Luke's face. "Sir, I..." A frog seemed to have gotten caught in his throat. "Sir, I want to marry your daughter. I know I'm just a cowboy, but I know horses and I've got a little money in a bank, back in Chicago. And I'll take real good care of her." As he spoke, he stood a little straighter. "I can work for a year or two, until I have enough to set her up in a decent house. And I--" Katie snatched a pillow from the bed and smacked him square in the face. "Maybe you'd better make sure I want to marry you before you start boasting to Pa how you'll take care of me!" she yelled. Luke just looked at her, silently, soberly. "Like I said, Mr. Lachlan," he went on, "in a couple of years I'll have a stake, and--" "Damn you, Luke Savage! You're not sending me home to wait while you traipse around the country trailing cows. We're going home to Boise City and Pa can lend you enough to start your herd." With a mighty swing, she hit him again, and the pillow burst. White feathers floated like fluffy snow about the room. "And I don't need anybody to 'take real good care' of me! Do you hear?" Hard fingers caught her wrists and clamped them together. With a jerk that clacked her teeth together, he pulled her hard against him. "I've said more than once, Katie Lachlan, that you need a keeper, and I am going to be him!" She stared up at him, seeing a new Luke Savage. This was not the young man who'd half-humorously bickered with her these past weeks. Suddenly she wanted nothing so much as his kiss. Her body softened, molded itself to his. His body remained hard and unyielding. "I'm sick and tired of your arguing ways," he continued, still holding her, "and you can learn otherwise while you wait." "I'm not waiting for anybody. Besides, somebody needs to argue with you. Maybe then you'd learn not to give orders and expect people to jump to obey." "One thing I learned in the Army is that somebody's got to give the orders, damn it." Luke's grip on her wrists loosened, but Katie remained nose to nose with him. He loomed over her, but she no longer found him intimidating. In fact, she had to fight the urge to grab him around the neck and kiss all the mad out of him. But

ABC Amber Text Converter Trial version, http://www.processtext.com/abctxt.html that would be surrender. "I amnot one of your soldiers," she told him, although her words lacked conviction. "Don't giveme orders." "When we're married..." he began. "Which will be never," she said between gritted teeth. "I changed my mind." "What if you're pregnant?" "What if I am? It wasmy choice, and it'll bemy baby. I don't need you!"Oh, but I do. I do. Why are we fighting like this? In the sudden silence filling the room, Emmet's voice, low and anguished, seemed to fill every corner. "Your choice, Katie girl? You've given yourself to him, then?" Oh, God, what have I done?Slowly she turned to face her father. Unable to meet his eyes, she nodded. Her voice broke as she said, "Yes, Pa. I've...I've...yes." Emmet looked at Luke. "Did you take advantage of her?" Now his tone was terrible, strong and dangerous. Luke stood a little taller, a little straighter, as he looked her father straight in the eye. "Yes sir, I did." "No, Pa! He didn't." Arms outspread, she stepped between the men, protecting Luke from her father's certain wrath. "It was my idea. He resisted, but I kept asking. I wanted him," she admitted. "I wanted him to love me." "I do love her, Mr. Lachlan. More than I can say." Luke's hands at her waist moved her aside as if she weighed no more than the feathers that still drifted about the room. He stepped past her and faced her father again. "And I'd be proud to take her to wife any time--tonight if I can. I just thought it would be better if I could make a proper home for her." "Katie's no stranger to hardship," Emmet said, and Katie thought she saw a spark of warmth melting the ice in his eyes. "What she does need, though, is a strong hand on the bridle." "Pa! Really!" "I've learned that. But she also needs a man who'll love her with all his heart." Luke looked at Katie then, and in his eyes she read his pledge. "And I do." Her breath seemed to catch on a heart that swelled in her chest. "You really do? Love me, I mean?" "I really do, sweetheart." She expected him to kiss her then. Instead he looked back to her father, grinning widely. "I reckon I'll just have to keep her so busy raising little Savages that she'll have no time to get into mischief." "If you say one more word about--" The rest of her threat was lost as Luke's lips closed over hers. Dimly Katie heard her father say, "Guess I'll go look up a preacher," before she lost herself in the glory and passion of Luke's kisses. The End

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