Foxfire Bride (30 page)

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Authors: Maggie Osborne

Tags: #General, #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction, #Western, #Adult

BOOK: Foxfire Bride
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"I expect I do." A smile twitched Miz Robb's lips.

"But there was no future there." Fox licked her lips and looked down at her lap. "Would it be better to take what you could for a short time, knowing it would hurt you bad at the end? Or would it be better to go on not having that good thing?"

"When life offers you a good thing, I say you take it."

Fox nodded slowly. "Even when you know it's going to damn near kill you when it's over?"

"Even then."

Leaving Tanner would hurt until she shot Hobbs Jennings and paid the price, but during that time it would hurt bad. "All right. I guess that's what I wanted to hear." She drew a deep breath. "Now let's say that you wanted that man never to forget you. Say you wanted him to remember you every time he looked at another woman, but say you didn't know much about, well, you know"

Barbara Robb crooked a finger, beckoning Fox closer. Leaning forward until they were head to head, she started talking. Fox's eyes grew as wide as saucers. At the end, she fell back in her chair.

"I should do all that ?" When Miz Robb nodded, Fox burst out laughing. "Good Lord!"

Near dawn she woke Tanner by circling his ear with her tongue. Then she ran her hand down his chest and belly until she found what she was seeking. Ducking her head under the covers, she slid down, down, giving him little nips along the way. And then she put Miz Robb's advice into action.

When they left the whorehouse two hours later, Tanner wore a stunned expression that made her laugh.

Fox hugged his arm close to her side and smiled up at him. "I never thought I'd say such a thing, but I just love doing this with you!"

 

From No Name they cut southeast and entered the mountains again. After a long day in the saddle, Fox found the valley that crossed the range they had entered. Here they tied up at Buttermilk Fort, built by Mormons and so named because of the buttermilk the Mormons offered travelers to refresh themselves.

"Thank you," Fox said to a smiling older woman even though Fox didn't like buttermilk. She made herself drink it down and returned the glass, wondering why the only women she noticed were of a certain age. Then it occurred to her that the younger women and wives stayed out of sight when a party of men came through. The way Hanratty and Brown were scanning the fort suggested that hiding the young women saved a great deal of unpleasantness.

"With all them wives, seems they could spare one or two for a night," Jubal Brown complained.

"You'll live," Fox snapped. "It's your turn to fix supper, by the way."

They'd chosen to camp outside the crowded small fort in a grassy meadow rife with wildflowers popping out of the ground.

"Where's Mr. Hernandez?" Tanner asked as they dismounted and worked the creaks out of shoulders and legs.

"Remember the hot springs we passed? I sent him back there. A hot soak will be good for those old bones." And maybe the steam would open up his chest and help him breathe better.

She had felt Tanner's stare all day and he was doing it again. He looked around to see where Hanratty and Brown were then brushed his fingertips across her cheek. "You were spectacular last night. I can't stop thinking about you."

"I want you to remember me," she admitted, feeling shy about the confession.

For a long moment their eyes held. "I'll never forget you," Tanner promised in a gruff voice.

The comment struck Fox with bittersweet force. Thanks in part to Barbara Robb, he wouldn't forget. But he'd also confirmed that nothing had changed, not that Fox expected it had. They would say good-bye in Denver. She gave him a wobbly smile and walked away, fingering her shot-up earlobe.

Near dawn she came awake to the sound of gunshots and leaped out of her bedroll, snatching up her rifle. The shots came from the fort and she and the men ran through the darkness toward the gates, shouting to identify themselves. They took up an outside position beneath the men inside the fort firing above them.

"Shoshones," Fox said, sighting on one of the Indians racing past her at a gallop. In the dark and flying dust, she couldn't tell if she'd hit him.

"How do you know?" Tanner asked beside her, shouting over the explosions of gunfire.

"Glimpses of hair. Clothing. The way the horses are painted."

An hour later as a glow of dawn tinted the sky orange, the Indians rode away and slowly the dust settled. Four Shoshones sprawled on the ground. Fox lowered her rifle and stretched.

"Thank you for your help," a man said, stepping out of the gate. A look of disgust twisted his lips as he inspected the carnage. "Every few weeks they try to steal our cattle. Sometimes they get a few." He nudged his boot against an Indian's ribs. "Come inside and have some breakfast."

Fox thought of the long day ahead. "Thank you kindly, but we'll fix something quick at our own fire and be on our way."

The energy she'd felt at the start of the battle drained quickly, and her feet were dragging as she approached their camp. "Son of a bitch!"

One Indian was untying their animals and another had opened one of the bank bags and was fingering the coins. Hanratty's rifle swung up and the Indian trying to steal their mules hit the ground before Fox registered the sound of Hanratty's shot. Tanner and Jubal Brown both fired at the Indian with the bank bag. The Indian fell, but that wasn't what caught Fox's attention. The horses bolted and ran off in the early light, and coins flew out of the bank bag as the Indian went down.

Fox groaned and covered her eyes. They would lose time rounding up the horses, and she hoped Tanner wouldn't insist on a coin count. Regardless, they weren't going to get the early start she had hoped for.

"I'm starting to hate that gold," she said to Tanner, her eyes narrowed. "Hanratty? You and Brown catch the horses." Angry enough to feel that she could move a mountain, she gripped one of the dead Indians by the ankles and dragged him out of their camp.

"Missy?"

"What!"

"I think you better come back here." Peaches stood beside Tanner frowning at an arrow sticking out of Tanner's arm.

"Oh my God!" Skidding to a stop beside him, she inspected the wound. "When did this happen? Why didn't you say something?"

"At the fort, right before the Indians rode off." He spoke between his teeth, glaring down at the arrow. "Hurts like a son of a bitch."

When Fox looked around she saw Hanratty and Brown staring. They hadn't gone after the horses yet. "Someone needs to get this arrow out." She paused to see who would volunteer, but they all stared at her. Fox swore and pulled a hand down her face. "All right, the horses will keep. Brown, go back to the fort and see if they have anything stronger than buttermilk. Hanratty, make some bandages and an arm sling. Peaches, let's see what's in the doctor kit."

Peaches nodded. "We've got some laudanum, that'll help with the pain afterward, and we'll treat him for fever and infection."

The men dispersed and Fox pulled back her shoulders, reaching for Tanner. "This is going to hurt." In one strong motion, she ripped his bloody sleeve open to get a better look. Tanner winced and ground his teeth together, but didn't make a sound. "And this is going to hurt worse." She moved the arrow's shaft to see if the arrow rested against bone, and then felt the back of his arm.

This time he swore and sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Sit down."

He sat, holding his arm in his lap.

"There's two choices." She drew a breath. "We pull it out, in which case the wings on the arrowhead will tear up your flesh. This method almost always leads to infection and prolonged pain and poor healing, assuming you don't die. But it would be quicker. Or, we push the arrow through and pull it out the back of your arm. You still get chewed up but not as badly and the cuts are cleaner. It won't be fast, but that's the choice I recommend."

After prolonged muttering, Tanner gritted his teeth and squinted. "Push it through."

"Shall I do that before we pick up the coins or afterward?" she said to distract him. He almost appeared to be considering the question. In any case, he wasn't watching when Fox snapped off the arrow halfway up.

"Christ!"

"No sense pushing more through than we have to." Peaches dropped down beside her, opened the doctor kit and removed what they would require. "Thank you. I'll need my riding gloves and something to stuff inside for padding."

Brown returned as the sun edged over the mountains, looking disgusted. "Nothing but milk, buttermilk, or water."

Fox stared deep into Tanner's eyes. "Take a big slug of this laudanum." It wouldn't dull the pain as effectively as whiskey, but it would help. Taking scissors out of the kit, she cut away his sleeve and nodded at Hanratty when he appeared with bandages. "I'd rather one of you boys did this," she said in a low voice. Neither of them responded and she swore again. To Tanner she said, "We'll spend the day here. Sleep is the best thing for you."

"No." Knots ran up his jaw. "We've lost enough time. If you have to, tie me on my horse, but keep moving."

Fox pushed down a wave of squeamishness. Ordinarily she didn't wince at the sight of blood and considered herself as tough as any man in this sort of circumstance. But that was Tanner's blood soaking his shirt. And this was Tanner asking to be tied on his horse. She couldn't stand it that she'd have to hurt him to help him. Wetting her lips, she made herself stiffen her spine.

Next she lit a cigar and paced back and forth, working up the anger to see her through this. All she had to do was think about Hobbs Jennings and she was ready.

"All right, boys. You hold his arm, Hanratty. Brown, you and Peaches hold the rest of him and keep him steady." Again she met Tanner's gaze and apologized in advance for what she was about to do to him. "I'm sorry."

"Just do it," he said, turning his head away.

It wasn't easy. Before Fox finished, her hands and sleeves were drenched in blood, she was sweating and swearing, and Tanner had lost consciousness. But finally, thank God, the job was done.

Fox held up the bloody arrow, spit on the ground, then flung it as far as she could. Standing, she stretched cramped muscles before she washed her hands and face in the pan of water Peaches brought her. For a minute she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

"We'll let him sleep for an hour before we tie his butt into the saddle." Finally she remembered the gold. "I'll pick up coins. Somebody get coffee and breakfast going."

"You are one tough woman," Jubal Brown said. Admiration flickered in his gaze. "Sometime I'd like to hear your story."

"What I'd like is coffee." And a clean shirt.

"Does that sling suit you?" Hanratty asked, stepping away from Tanner's body.

"It looks good. Do you need help catching the horses?"

"They didn't go far." He considered her earlobe. "You sure you ain't going back to Carson City? I wouldn't mind riding with you again."

"I'm sure. Go get the horses."

The coins hadn't scattered far, most had spilled in a pile near the other bags. Scowling, Fox scooped them back into the opened bag, thinking about Tanner's father. There was something wrong with that dynamic. Matthew Tanner was not the kind of man who failed to live up to expectations. Tanner was a strong and honorable man grounded in duty, a man who gave more than he had to. If his father believed Tanner was a disappointment, then the fault lay with the father not the son. Fox almost wished she could meet Tanner's father so she could tell him how damned wrong he was and give him a piece of her mind.

An hour later she supervised the men as they tied a half-conscious Tanner to his saddle and adjusted the sling holding his arm close to his chest.

"All right, let's get on the road." Taking a string of mules, she moved the mustang to the head of line and headed toward the next landmark, a flat valley that ran past cinder cones and ancient volcanic hills.

It wasn't until after the midday meal that she let herself think how close Tanner had come to getting killed, and the shaking began.

 

The next few days would always be a laudanum blur in Tanner's mind. By the time Peaches stopped forcing laudanum down his throat, the party had crossed the difficult and rocky Wasatch Range and were descending from altitude.

At supper that night, he was able to recall detouring around two landslides during the day, and Fox's disgust at the loss of time. Of the preceding days, he had no memory.

"No more laudanum," he said, waving Peaches away. Everyone at the campfire looked up from their plates. "Is the gold safe?"

"Safe as a baby at its mother's breast," Brown assured him.

"You missed out on the last settlement a couple of days back. Lot of excitement there," Hanratty mentioned. "Some Utes killed and scalped a couple of men a few days before we arrived."

Peaches frowned. "They also had a warm spring just north of the place. There's a multitude of springs in this area."

"We thought about throwing you in," Fox said, smiling.

The relief accompanying their light laughter told Tanner what an ordeal the last few days had been for all of them. Especially Fox.

He drank in her face. Even with the sunset bathing her skin, she looked tired and there were new creases between her eyes which appeared dark gray tonight. To him, she was beautiful.

"You saved my life."

His comment made her uncomfortable and she dealt with it by appearing annoyed. By now he knew her well enough to know compliments hadn't come often enough that she knew how to accept them. Realizing this caused his chest to tighten with an emotion he couldn't put a name to.

"You had a fever for several days. You can thank Peaches for seeing you through."

"Thank you." He spoke to Peaches but he didn't take his eyes off Fox. Tonight was chilly and she wore her poncho and sat close to the fire. He knew what marvels lay beneath that poncho. Knew of the softness she seldom showed the world. There had been a moment, gazing into her eyes before he lost consciousness, that he'd seen the tenderness in her eyes and he'd wondered if he would ever see her again. Thinking he might not had devastated him.

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