Authors: Maggie Osborne
Tags: #General, #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction, #Western, #Adult
The question offended him. "It's my money."
"All right, let's suppose I believe that. But actually, it doesn't matter, because you aren't taking bags of money on this trip!" Spinning, she opened the tarp on the far side. "Four bags total. Damn it. What were you thinking? This is flat unacceptable."
"The money is the whole purpose of this trip."
She looked around again, glared at Hanratty, Brown, and Peaches, then leaned in close. "This money is going to paint big targets on our backs. Don't you understand that? Every outlaw in the territory will be looking for us. It's too dangerous."
"Nobody knows about the money except the people standing right here. And I've taken precautions. Hanratty and Brown are here for the sole purpose of guarding the money."
"Don't tell me that no one knows about this." Now she had her fists on her hips and was leaning up on her tiptoes to look him in the eye. "A bank teller knows. Probably others in the bank. The Carson bank is too small to keep this many coins on hand, so a telegraph operator knows. Whoever guarded the money until the bank picked it up knows this money went to Carson. It's too early for the bank to be open, so you probably kept the coins in the hotel vault. Whoever opened the vault for you knows. If each of those people tells one other person a whole lot of people know you are moving a whole lot of money. Exactly how much money did you think you were going to take through the wilderness?"
"Fifty thousand dollars." Opening his jacket, he reached for the telegram.
"Oh Christ." She turned in a full circle, then looked up at him, shaking her head. "I won't do it, Tanner. Either you take that mule back to the bank, or you find yourself a new scout. I'm not crazy enough to beg outlaws to come get us."
"The money goes with us."
"Then I quit."
"Read this first," he said, putting the telegram in her hand. Turning, he faced east, not knowing how she would respond.
She read aloud, anger clipping her tone. "If you want to see your father again bring fifty thousand in coin to Denver stop. Arrive by May first or your old man dies stop."
Tanner heard her draw a long breath before she swore and then read the telegram again, the anger draining out of her voice.
"Somebody's kidnapped your father," she said, frowning at the money mule. "Have you checked to make sure this isn't a hoax?"
"It's not a hoax." He turned and studied her face. She was no longer spitting mad, but she wasn't happy. He couldn't tell what she was thinking. "You read the telegram. If I don't get this money to Denver, my father dies."
Without saying anything more, she walked to the edge of the staging area, folded her arms across her chest and turned her face in the direction of the rising sun. When she took her hat off and slapped it against her thigh, the sun lit her long braid like a column of flame.
"Peaches?"
When Peaches joined her, they both stood with arms across their chests, staring at the sky. Tanner smoked and waited, watching them, wondering if he could find Denver on his own.
Finally he heard her say, "It's his daddy. I'd do the same thing." Watched Peaches nod then murmur, "We got to go."
"All right," she said, walking back to the horses and mules. "Move the money mule to the middle of the train." Her gaze swept Tanner and his guards. "That money is your responsibility, not mine. You hear me, boys? If there's trouble because of this, that's your problem, not mine and not Mr. Hernandez's."
"Thank you," Tanner said quietly. He folded the telegram back into his inside pocket. There was no reason to keep it, but he did and he read it over and over.
"We've got seventy-one days," Fox said, squinting into the sun. "With luck, we can make Denver with a little time to spare. Depends on how things go."
"Are your parents alive?" Tanner asked, curious as to why she had capitulated so easily.
"Both dead. A long time ago." She glanced toward Peaches who was mounted and waiting. "Me and Peaches will lead the trains for the first few days while you boys get used to the saddle, then we'll trade off. We'll make it a short day today, only go as far as Gold Canyon. It'll take a while to establish a routine for setting up camp."
After Hanratty and Brown finished moving the money mule to the middle of the train, Fox stood beside it, eyeing the tarp.
"You really believe outlaws will follow us?" Tanner asked, swinging up on the big bay. He made sure his bedroll was tied down, checked his canteen and rifle scabbard.
"Oh yeah." Shifting, she narrowed her gaze on Hanratty and Brown, watching them step into their saddles. "That gold is going to be trouble. How well do you know your guards?"
"I trust them," he said coolly.
"Well, then." Fox gave him a nod before she swung up on her mustang. After adjusting the rope trailing back to the three mules she would lead, she touched her heels to the mustang's flanks. "Let's go."
It didn't surprise Tanner that she sat a horse like she'd been born in a saddle or that she made leading a mule train look easy. It did surprise him though to admit how much he trusted this small angry woman. He glanced ahead at the red and gold braid dropping down the back of her shapeless poncho. He'd be following that flaming braid for over a thousand miles.
He just hoped to God that she was right when she said she could get him to Denver before May first.
Fox set a moderate but steady pace. She'd promised Tanner short days until he and his guards grew accustomed to all day in the saddle, but in truth it had also been a while since Fox or Peaches had spent eight or ten hours on a horse. She suspected she'd feel the effects before they stopped for the night, but right now she experienced the exhilaration of getting under way.
Starting out was the best part of any journey. At this point the company was pleasant and cordial, men and animals were whole and healthy, anticipation and optimism wafted on the breeze. Anything could happen in the weeks ahead, good or bad.
But packing gold fell on the bad side, Fox thought, frowning. Every few minutes she battled an urge to look over her shoulder and make sure the money mule hadn't bolted or been stolen.
"Could be that nothing bad will happen," Peaches suggested when they stopped beside the river for a late lunch. Cupping his hands around a coffee mug, he glanced toward a clump of bare cottonwoods where Tanner and his men were eating bread and cheese and talking. "You're thinking everyone out there knows about the gold and is busy figuring out how to steal it." When Fox nodded glumly, he smiled. "Now me, I share Mr. Tanner's opinion. I'm thinking that bank teller, and the hotel manager, and whoever else, is honest and upright and has already forgotten about the gold."
"Right. Just what we need, more fricking optimism." Fox rolled her eyes like she did when he started seeing roses among the weeds. "How are you doing?" she asked after a minute, pulling her gaze away from Matthew Tanner. Tanner's tall figure and commanding stance drew her attention like a magnet. Which irritated the hell out of her. "Holding up all right? I can tell one of the guards to lead the second train if your shoulder is bothering you. And it seems to me you're coughing a lot."
"Now, Missy, are you going to be fussing over me during this whole trip?" His eyes narrowed. "Why aren't you wearing the sun protection I mixed up for you?"
"I forgot. I'll wear it tomorrow."
Now that she wasn't worrying about growing ice, she could enjoy the sun on her face and the warm breeze blowing down the valley. It was nice to reacquaint herself with the music of a river. Nice to watch the animals grazing next to the trail and hear the murmur of men's voices. At this moment, it was hard to believe that revenge was her motive for being here.
Once they remounted, Tanner rode up beside her. "I figure we're about a mile off the stage road, starting to climb toward the cut up to the Comstock. So could have led this expedition."
"You're right." She slid him a sidelong look from beneath the brim of her old hat. He looked good on the big bay horse, riding easy and loose. But he looked good whatever he was doingsitting, standing, walking. "But you don't know where we should cut south, or where the best campsites are or how to find the water holes."
His smile relaxed, almost a tease. "That's when I start getting my money's worth." They rode a mile in silence before he said, "I'm obliged that you changed your mind about traveling with the gold."
"I get pissy every time I think about it, but there isn't a real choice. If I had a father, I'd do the same thing."
Fox didn't remember her father, and over time the memories of her mother had faded. Only vague impressions remained, mostly of a sick room and the terrible grief closing her throat. But she remembered her stepfather. Him, she would never forget.
"I guess your mother is gone, or the kidnappers would have approached her."
"My mother died shortly after I was born," Tanner said. "I have no memory of her."
"And your father never remarried?" These questions pushed the limits of what was acceptable, but she couldn't stop herself.
"My father married again years later, but his second wife died less than a year after the wedding. I never met the woman."
"How old were you then?" Fox's face flamed. Silently she commanded herself to stop asking personal questions before he got the idea that she was interested in him.
"I was about ten or eleven. In school back east."
At least he had a father. Fox thought it must be good to have someone who cared no matter what a person did. She had Peaches, but she would have given anything to have a real mother and father, too.
When she turned her head, Tanner had dropped back behind the mules. Seems he didn't welcome personal questions. That's what going to school in the east did for a person, installed a reserve. In the west, folks didn't stand on formality, they wanted to know who was talking to them and that required questions. But once the basics were known, it was live and let live. Or maybe she was looking for an excuse to justify her curiosity.
They rode into Gold Canyon about three in the afternoon. The town was one of the oldest in the territory, strung out along a tight valley near the river. The racket from the mills servicing the Comstock would have driven Fox mad if she'd had to live herethe noise and the lack of sunlight. The dreary town was already in shadow.
As the town pump was the primary source of rumor and gossip, they paused there to refill canteens and stretch their legs. Fox used the opportunity to ask questions. She didn't like the answers.
Thinking about the news, she led Tanner's party down the main street and continued out of town, past a few small farms and out to the edge of the desert. The campsite she wanted was still there, nestled beside the river in a copse of tall cottonwoods.
After she swung down off the mustang, Fox flexed her knees, feeling the pull along the insides of her thighs. She'd be stiff in the morning.
"All right, let's get organized." Peaches knew what to do, she didn't worry about him. "Lay out your bedrolls, then we need someone to fetch water, someone to get a fire started, and someone to cook supper. You gentlemen work it out among yourselves as to who does what. I'll help Mr. Hernandez unload the mules and I'll find our supper fixings."