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  ONE GOOD WOMAN SUSAN KELLEY 31

  The sky lightened to the east as they made the cover of the trees. The smudged footprints of the Savage were easy to find. The female knew little about covering her trail. If anyone or thing searched for her, she wouldn’t be difficult to find.

  Brady took the lead and jogged at times when the sign was easy to follow. The female had traveled as close to the base of the cliff as the terrain and trees allowed. They found a spot where she’d stopped to rest and eat. There was little to tell except the sign indicated she’d spread her hides and perhaps napped for a while. But when they took up the trail going north again, they discovered a second set of tracks. This set led back north.

  “Another Savage.” Brady squatted and traced the wide tread with his finger. “It’s small too, probably another female. What the hell are they about?”

  Cara had no answer. The behavior of the females seemed quite bizarre for their kind.

  Curiosity warred with a slowly growing dread at what lay ahead of them. They had no real choice but to go forward.

  * * * *

  Brady frowned at the deepening purple of twilight edging out from the cliff. The forest had changed from oaks, aspens and wild cherry trees to mostly pines and very little underbrush.

  Fewer birds and small animals flittered and crept along the dark floor. Decades of fallen needles carpeted the floor but he still heard Cara’s footfalls behind him. He always knew where she was.

  Each night he struggled to sleep when she took her turn at watch and he wrapped himself in the blankets still warm with her scent. Being near her was driving him crazy. And that was only his mind. The suffering of his body threatened to fell him. His cock hardened before he even saw her.

  “Getting too dark,” she said quietly. “We might miss something.”

  “Quit reading my mind.” If she knew all of his thoughts she’d run him through with her sword. But after days of alternating leading and searching out the trail while they watched for any path up the cliff side, they were working together as if they’d scouted as partners for years.

  “Read your mind?” She snorted in a delicate female way that tightened his guts and other things a bit lower on his body. “Only a few paragraphs there.”

  Her dry humor never ceased to intrigue him. He’d enjoyed her wit when they first met, but she’d lost her sense of humor when he’d tried to deepen that relationship.

  “Guess we should rest up for the night.” He wanted to press on, but ever since they’d seen the female Savage, Cara had insisted on caution above and beyond what the situation called for them to use. But something in her eyes, some desperate wariness, prompted him to indulge her. He knew her well enough to not ask.

  “Under one of these big pines?” Cara pointed at one of the towering trees.

  The ancient evergreens’ boughs swept low and many of them touched the ground. He shook his head. “Too many damned bugs under there. Look up the cliff here. I think there’s a bench up there wide enough for the both of us, and no one can surprise us. We can see both directions on the trail and what would notice us up there above their heads?”

  “Boost me up.”

  He made a step with his hands. Her foot was tiny and she was ridiculously light. He lifted her with little effort until she could get a hand hold. With the strength of a warrior, she used a patch of stubborn grass as another hand hold and scrambled up further.

  He lost sight of her for a moment as she moved away from the edge, but her head appeared in a moment. “It’s even bigger than it looks and relatively flat. Toss the packs up.”

  ONE GOOD WOMAN SUSAN KELLEY 32

  He took his hook and line out of his pack before slinging it up to her. She caught it and the others and set them aside.

  “Do you need a hand?” She reached down as if she could pull his weight up.

  “I’m going to jog back to that stream we passed a half mile back and see if I can catch some fish. Why don’t you clear a spot for a fire?”

  “We can’t do that. For all we know there could be a pack of Savages through the next stand of trees.”

  “Maybe, but we need to eat.” He took off before she could argue. She was already so thin he worried about her strength and stamina holding out. They’d been eating only one meal a day and that one was seldom filling.

  He followed the stream away from the cliff where the long shadows of the cliff had yet to reach it. The rushing water still glinted with sunshine and in one spot it widened into a slower moving pool. After a quick search, he found an ugly brown crayfish to use as bait.

  Fish were plentiful in the cool, clean waters but it still took him over an hour to catch four of a size to keep. One moon rose with the setting of the sun and along with it came the chirping of insects and tree frogs. He retraced the path to their camp, hoping he wasn’t leaving too obvious a trail. His boots crushed much of the new green spring growth along the stream.

  The scents of parsley and even some mint caught his attention. He scooped up some handfuls and stuffed it in his pockets. A little treat.

  He paused at the base of the cliff and listened. No sound and not a sight of her. Good.

  “Cara?”

  She came to the edge, her face and hair pale and shining against the background of dark rocks. “Is that you, idiot?”

  Not happy. Now what, damn it. “I’m going to toss up some firewood.” He gathered some sticks as wide as his fingers and a few the size of his wrist. Not much heat was needed to cook fish. He couldn’t tell if she caught the wood, but at least she didn’t throw it back down at him.

  He’d strung his line through the gills of the fish and now tied it around his wrist.

  Hopefully they wouldn’t drip on his shirt and make it smell like fish. There was no offer of a hand to help him this time, but he didn’t need it.

  The first moon threw some light into their little refuge. Cara had pulled up some of the wiry grass and exposed the thin layer of soil beneath their shallow roots. She fixed the small pile of firewood in the rough fire pit and quite effectively ignored him.

  “You might have helped me up. What if I’d fallen and cracked my head?”

  “I’m sure it’s much too hard to damage. The river proved that when we landed here.”

  He didn’t want to get into an argument so went to work undoing the line from his wrist.

  The cliff walls rose in sheer impossibility from this ledge like so many other routes they’d investigated. But there was a good line of sight to the north and south.

  Cara lit a match to the kindling and coaxed the flames into a steady fire that reflected off the cliff face. He recovered his metal plate from his pack and set two fish upon it. It wouldn’t hold all four but it wouldn’t take them long to fry. The parsley he crushed on top of the catch would have been better dried but any flavor was a luxury. He set a flat rock against the flame and set the plate on it. He felt her glare on him.

  “What?”

  “You shouldn’t go off by yourself. We should stay together.”

  ONE GOOD WOMAN SUSAN KELLEY 33

  “We have to eat. Especially you.” He snapped his mouth shut but the words were already out.

  “Especially

  me?”

  How could a whisper sound like a shout? “I didn’t mean you ….”

  “Do you think I’m weaker than you?”

  “You are.” What kind of silly conversation was this? “Any woman is weaker than a man.”

  Her eyes glinted darkly in the firelight. “How could you believe such a thing? Are you not a comrade and friend of Claudia Turan?”

  “Claudia Celebria,” he corrected but she paid him no heed.

  “And have you not fought beside Juston Steele? He holds no such prejudice against women. I’d thought you more intelligent, but you’re the same as every other thick-headed oaf

  ….”

  “That’s enough, Cara.” He used his knife to flip the fish over. He knew himself to be a person of e
ven temperament, but she was stoking his temper.

  “Enough? You hear a truth you’d rather deny so you want to end the discussion?”

  “Discussion? All I hear is you spouting off at me about something so asinine it can’t be considered.”

  “Spouting? Asinine?” She stood up and loomed over him. “You think me a silly, weak woman? I’m a warrior.”

  She planted her hands on her hips, pulling her shirt tight across her small breasts and emphasizing how tiny her waist and how narrow her hips were. His damned cock didn’t care that he was angry. The ache in his balls only added frustration to his temper.

  “Sit down and lower your voice. Sound carries a long way on a clear night like this.”

  “Now you’re going to order me to shut up?” She poked his shoulder. Hard.

  He’d been squatting on his heels and her firm shove spilled him back on his butt. “What the hell? Settle yourself, girl.”

  “Girl?” She leaped on top of him. Her knee hit his thigh dangerously close to a sensitive spot. “I’ll show you what a girl can do.”

  Her fist connected with his ear. Damn, but it hurt. He grabbed her shoulders but his anger wilted when his fingers closed on her fragile bones. Didn’t she realize he could crush her?

  Wisps of her hair flew free about her face and her braid whipped over his shoulder as she attacked him. One of her callused hands slapped him across the face.

  He lifted one of his arms to protect his head. She plunked her sharp-boned butt down on his hips and rained blows on his chest. What caused her to lose control and turn into this harridan?

  She weighed little enough. He easily rolled over until she was beneath him. It took little effort to catch her arms and pin them over her head. He needed only one hand to hold her dainty wrists against the rocky ground. “Stop this.”

  But she struggled with more fierceness and attempted to buck him off her hips. Her eyes stretched wide, and her breath huffed in and out of her open mouth in sharp pants. She twisted her hands and kneed him in the back.

  “Cara, calm down. I’ll let you go if you stop hitting me.” He couldn’t believe her simple irritation had escalated into this. She looked terrified. Of him.

  She blinked her eyes wide, dark and unreadable in the uneven light of the small fire. Her head jerked in what he hoped was a nod of agreement.

  ONE GOOD WOMAN SUSAN KELLEY 34

  He swung his leg slowly over her as if he dismounted a skittish colt. Any physical pleasure he might have felt at having her body so intimately against his could not take solid form with her fear and distrust so evident. Her thin wrists trembled in his grasp, and he'd never felt quite such a bully. But he still didn’t release her arms until he slid a short distance from her.

  She snapped up to a sitting position and flung herself as far from him as the ledge allowed. He kept a wary eye on her but his nose warned him to check their precious dinner.

  The fish were slightly seared on the bottom but still edible. He pulled the plate back from the flames and fed another small stick into the fire. Her breathing sounded harsh against the other quiet sounds of the night. His own was little better.

  He poured some water from his leather drinking bag into his cup and sprinkled the mint leaves he’d gathered into it, stalling for time until they both regained some sense. He pushed it close to the fire. Warm mint water, not much like tea, but something different from plain water.

  “I’m sorry, Cara.” He knew enough about women to understand he should apologize though he wasn’t sure what set her off. “I know you’re a warrior. I only meant that men are stronger of body, not of spirit or purpose.”

  She said nothing, only continued to stare at him with her face mostly in shadow. Her chest still rose and fell faster than it should, but her hands had ceased their trembling. He held out the pan with the overdone fish.

  She jerked her knife and stabbed one of the fillets with a quickness that startled him. He speared the other for himself and propped it against a small rock while he prepared the other two and set them to cook. The first fish had cooled enough for him to eat it when he was done with the chore. The wild parsley had given it some flavor, and he was hungry enough to think it delicious.

  Cara devoured hers with less zeal and no apparent intentions of responding to his peace-offering explanation. He tried again. “I meant you needed to eat more than I because I’m bigger and can go without food for longer without starving.”

  “You need more to keep that bigger body working.” Her cool tone was not acceptance of his reasoning.

  “I wasn’t trying to insult you. The facts are I’m bigger and stronger than you. If you can’t accept that, then let’s go with I outrank you and I’ll decide when to take chances fishing, hunting or building a fire.” Damned stubborn woman.

  “You don’t outrank me. We’re not in the same chain of command. And we should be making such decisions based on logic and not on who has the biggest muscles or which one of us has a penis.”

  His hands froze on their way to flip the fish. “Who has a…?”

  “You’re not in charge because you’re a man.”

  “I know that.” But his mind kept repeating her words. One word. She’d said penis and now that part of his anatomy insisted on standing to attention as if she’d called it. “I’ve taken many orders from women. Claudia Celebria has always outranked me, and many members of the Realm Council are female. They give me orders all the time.”

  He flipped the fish and sprinkled the last of the parsley on them. The mint tea simmered in the tin cup as the last small bits of wood gave their bodies to the hunger of the flames. It would be out soon and so much the better.

  The silence stretched and it was not the comfortable quiet of their recent time together.

  He gave the peace offering one more chance though he still felt he’d done nothing to inspire her ONE GOOD WOMAN SUSAN KELLEY 35

  anger. “We should be working together. It’s kept us alive and safe so far. I won’t be so dictatorial again. I trust you as a warrior and a person and only wish you felt the same.”

  He stabbed one of the fish and offered her the metal plate with the other one. She hesitated and then took it. The fire was nothing but a pile of ember now. The mint tea was weak and not that tasteful. He sipped some and then handed her the cup. Their fingers touched and another spurt of hot desire shot through his conscious-less cock.

  “I do trust you, Brady.” She so seldom said his name. Her whisper from the dark added some strange depth to the desire tightening his belly.

  “You don’t act like you do.” He stared in the direction of her voice, but he couldn’t see her where she sat in the shadows of the cliff and towering pines. The first moon would be overhead soon, and then she wouldn’t be able to hide from him.

  She handed the cup back to him. “You don’t know me.”

  “You don’t let anyone get to know you. Let’s get some sleep. I don’t think we need to set a watch. No one can see us if we sleep away from the edge.”

  She’d already spread the blankets one on top of the other. They’d never slept side by side as one of them was always on watch while the other slept. He pulled off his boots, but she remained seated against the stone wall.

  The last thing he wanted was another argument, but he wouldn’t sacrifice safety to appease her temper. “I should sleep closest to the front. I have the gun in case someone does find us and tries to climb up here.

  She went still, and he held his breath. His temper wouldn’t take another battle of wills or fists so calmly. After a long moment, she jammed her knife into the sandy soil a few times to clean the fish oils off of it. She crawled on her hands and knees to the blankets. With a short, brisk movements, she shook the top one out and then spread it beside the other one.

  He relaxed. Using some grass and a small amount of water from his bag, he cleaned the plate. After swigging the last of the mint tea, he stowed plate and cup in his pack in case they had to leave quickly. He se
t his sword and gun beside his blanket but didn’t expect to have to use them.

  The night was peaceful around them but as he stretched out on his side with his back to her, he sensed only tension on the shelf. Why? He’d slept near female warriors many times, though never alone. And never with this particular woman. This woman who confused him and awakened some fierce desire in him. But along with this was a strong desire to protect her that he found inexplicable considering her toughness. The fact was that the merest hint of protectiveness angered her and the smallest overture of a relationship was rudely rejected.

  But his body didn’t care. She was so close to him, he could roll over and take her into his arms. He could kiss her serious mouth and press her lean, muscular body to his. Her braid would unwind beneath his eager fingers, and her fine golden hair would curtain them in a nest of desire and lust.

  She spoke, her voice quiet and devoid of emotion. His brazen thoughts froze as did his body. He feared even his breathing might silence her.