Do-si-do

by Dorothy A. Bell

  “Well…?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Go then.”

  “I don’t have to go.”

  “Then what did you come out here for?”

  “Oh, for pity's sake, Gabe…I can’t sleep. When I close my eyes, the darkness…I feel myself falling down that hole again. When my eyes are open I can see the stars, the moon, and I know I’m alive and…and out of that dark hell.”

  “You have to sleep, Birdie. Come back to camp. I’ll hold you. I’ll hold you, keep you from falling into the hole.”

  “If I let you hold me we both know it’s a danger in and of itself. We can’t…I can’t let you touch me, Gabe. I can’t have you, Gabe. I think you like to torment me. You know darn good and well how much I’ve always wanted you. Leave me alone—I’m fine out here. I’ll come back and lie down in a few minutes. Don’t worry about me.”

  Tears started to clog her throat. “Go away, leave me alone. Take your lovely Edditha and go away, far, far away.” She meant to sound strong, but her last words gushed out on a sob of despair.

  “No.”

  She had her back to him. She turned around. He stood within an arm’s reach of her, his gaze steady and his jaw set.

  “No? What does that mean? No.”

  He shook his head. “No, I won’t go away. No, I won’t take Edditha. I can’t. I have to have you, Birdie.”

  She stomped her foot, the tears sliding off her cheeks, flowing hot and steady. “Well, you can’t have me, Gabriel Buxton. I’m going to marry Cornell Norquist. I just made up my mind. He’ll give me a big house, pretty dresses, a fine carriage, and he’ll leave me alone once I give him a son. And it’s fine with me. I don’t need a man for anything.”

  He took a threatening step toward her. She backed away, not caring for the glint of determination she saw in his eyes.

  “Birdie, don’t…”

  “Don’t what? Don’t cry. Don’t die of a broken heart when you leave again. Don’t wish and hope and dream.”

  “Birdie.”

  His arms went around her, and she began to weep in earnest, her body trembling.

  He stroked her back in slow, comforting circles. “Ahhh, Birdie. Curly-Birdie, shhh now, I’ve got you. You’re cold. Come back to the fire. We’ll sit, and I’ll hold you, and you can fall asleep. I won’t let you fall into the hole. I won’t lose you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Last night Gabe hadn’t thought he could, but he must’ve fallen asleep. Uncomfortable, he opened one eye. He had no feeling in the fingers of his right hand, and he had a cramp in his neck and shoulder. His butt felt bruised from the stones he’d sat on all night. A sharp jab to his temple brought him fully awake.

  Birdie, her head lying heavily against his chest, mouthed a complaint but didn’t fully awaken.

  “Gabe, you awake?”

  “Van? Yeah, I am now.”

  “We got company. Riders, two of ’em.”

  Gabe tried to ease his arm from around Birdie’s shoulder, hoping he could do it without waking her, but no such luck. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Riders?”

  “That’s right,” Gabe said, getting to his feet. He stayed bent over her, his face in hers. “You and Jo stay down out of sight. I mean it, Birdie.”

  “Oh, for pity's sake, fine, yes, I’ll stay out of sight.”

  For her compliance, Gabe bestowed on her a wink and a peck on the nose. He straightened and tucked his shirt into his trousers. “Where are they, Van?”

  “I had to take a whiz and heard’em comin’. Our fire is clean out, no smoke, so I doubt they know we’re here. They aren’t far from us, only a few hundred yards to the south. They’ve tied their horses and taken off on foot up to the mine shaft.”

  A few of the stars were still visible, and the pewter sky was devoid of clouds. “Could you make out who they are?”

  “No, too dark. I say we get a closer look at their horses. We might recognize something. If they’re locals, you and I’ve raced against most of the nags from around here, and we know their owners.”

  Gabe nodded.

  “What’s going on?” Jo asked, coming up behind him.

  “Two riders. They’ve tied their horses off and gone on foot up to the mine. You and Birdie stay low and quiet, all right?”

  Jo nodded and sat down next to Birdie, blinking like an owl.

  »»•««

  Van was right. Gabe recognized Comet right off as Tom Dixon’s sorrel gelding. He had a white streak down the bridge of his nose and a white sock on his right hind leg. The other horse, the gelding’s sister, had socks on both front legs and a white patch over one black eye. Gabe knew the mount belonged to Tom’s cousin, Ronnie. Tom and Ronnie ran together. Both of them held grudges against Birdie and Jo for tossing them into the bracken at the hot spring for spying on them. But not for one minute did Gabe think that insult the only motivation for carrying out their abduction.

  Behind him, Van started up the side of the hill headed for the mineshaft. “Van,” Gabe called out, having to whisper. “Where you goin’?”

  Van stopped and turned back, obviously having a hard time keeping his balance as the scree slid out from under his feet. “I’m goin’ up there and knock Tom’s teeth down his throat, where do you think I’m goin’?”

  “Wait, Van, wait a minute. I think I have a better idea. We only have two horses. I think Tom and Ronnie, to show their remorse, should give up the use of their mounts to get the girls home.”

  Gabe waited for a sign of consensus, which Van exhibited with brows arched and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  Van shinnied back down the slope. “I like it. But…I want to hit him, Gabe. I want to make Tom Dixon scream for mercy.”

  “Yeah, and I’d like to pin his arms back while you do it, but I think we should get the girls home. With any kind of luck, Tom will follow his horse to the hot spring and Dad will take his head off.”

  Van stood quiet, and then a grin broke out on his face, and he nodded. They untied the reins from the sagebrush and quietly led the horses off to their camp among the boulders.

  »»•««

  “Horses?” Birdie got to her feet, yanking Jo up with her. Van and Gabe appeared out of the sage. Birdie tucked her blouse into the waistband of her skirt. She tried to comb her unruly locks behind her ears with her cold, dirty fingers while studying the horses. She rubbed Comet’s nose, took him by his halter, and looked into his eyes. “I know you. Hey, Comet.”

  She turned her attention to the other horse and gave her the once-over. “Dancer, what the heck are you doing out here?”

  Gabe came to her and draped his arm around her shoulder. “They’re out here because Tom and Ronnie rode them out here. I think they left something behind up there in the old mine shaft yesterday and came back this morning to retrieve it…them. While they’re up there looking for what they thought they’d stashed safe and secure, we’re going to borrow their horses. Mount up.”

  Turning to speak to Jo, Gabe said, “Mount up fast. Let’s get out of here. After we’ve gone a few miles, we’ll discuss the details.”

  Van nodded his agreement.

  Jo, mouth open, stood stock still. Birdie gave a little hop and rushed off to get Gypsy saddled up. Gabe followed her to help while Van aided Jo. By the time they were mounted, the sun had risen high enough they could see Tom and Ronnie standing outside the entrance to the mine, looking down into their camp, yelling obscenities at them.

  Gabe set his horse into a gallop and headed west. On his right, Van on Ronny’s horse, and Jo keeping pace on Van’s mount came alongside.

  Gabe glanced over his left shoulder, expecting to see Birdie but saw nothing but dust. “Van? Birdie? Where’s Birdie?”

  Van and Jo pulled up and wheeled around to look back in the direction of their camp. “She mounted up, I saw her,” Van shouted.

  Gabe waved. “Keep going. We’ll catch up.”

  Van nodded. “The little nut. Who knows what
maggot she’s taken into her head? Let’s go, Jo.”

  To Gabe, he said, “We’ll go a couple of miles and wait for you.”

  Gabe wheeled Comet around, headed for the plume of dust rising up at the bottom of the slope in line with the opening of the mine. He heard Birdie give out a shrill whistle. She was the only girl he knew of who could whistle through her teeth like a man. He arrived in time to see Gypsy rear up on her hind legs and slice the air with her front hooves.

  Hanging on to the pommel with one hand like a circus show-woman and waving her other hand over her head, Birdie hollered her taunt. “Hey, Tommy…Ronnie. Tag, you’re it.”

  Gabe pulled hard on Comet’s reins coming to a skidding halt next to Gypsy. “Birdie-Alice, what the hell’s the matter with you? Have you lost your mind?” He reached out for Gypsy’s reins. Birdie swatted his hand away, and Gypsy came down hard on her front hooves, eyes wild and teeth gnashing at the bit. Gabe had to swing Comet to the side when Gypsy started to dance in a tight circle.

  Birdie laughed and shouted, sending her voice up to the two men who had started down the slope toward them. “We’ll take good care of Comet at the hot spring, Tommy. Ronnie, don’t worry about Dancer. Nice day for a stroll. See you boys later. We’ll be looking for you.”

  From a distance of less than a hundred yards, Gabe saw Ronnie draw his gun from his holster. The man raised his arm and shot a round in the air, startling the horses. Gabe had all he could do to keep Comet from taking off at a dead run.

  The second shot, fired from Tommy’s gun came a little too close for comfort, hitting the dust a few feet from Gypsy’s hind legs.

  Gypsy reared up, screamed, gave a little jump, and took off with Birdie hanging on to her neck.

  Gabe spurred Comet and off they went.

  Several rounds of gunfire whistled by them, hitting the rocks and throwing up dust. Birdie, a smile on her lips and her head to one side of Gypsy’s neck, and with her knees and feet tucked up on her flanks, had become one with her horse. She moved in rhythm with her stride, blonde hair flying and brown eyes concentrating on one thing, covering ground.

  When Gabe heard her sing out in jubilation, “Hee-haw, run, Gypsy run,” he let Comet go, and they joined her in the race to safety.

  Gabe admitted it felt good, his blood pumping and his heart pounding. He hadn’t felt this good, this free and wild, in…in forever, or maybe since the last time he’d gone riding neck-or-nothing with Birdie flying across the land.

  Gabe pulled up a little on Comet’s reins to slow him down. Gypsy soon matched the gelding’s pace. Gabe brought Comet’s stride down to a fast trot and then down to a brisk canter before he reached over to pull up on Gypsy’s reins.

  “You nearly got us killed back there, Birdie. You’re crazy, girl.”

  In response, Birdie sat up and patted Gypsy’s neck, and then tossed her head and laughed in his face. “I didn’t want Tommy to think just anyone stole, uh, borrowed, his horse. I wanted him to know where he could find Comet—if he’s got the guts to come get him. Buck and Daddy can tear the hide off those two after I’ve taken my pound of flesh. Besides, Gypsy needed a good run.”

  “Yeah, well, it was a little too close a call for me. I don’t think I’ve ever been shot at before.”

  “Oh, come on, Tommy can’t hit the broadside of a barn. He couldn’t even see the chalkboard in school. And Ronnie wouldn’t shoot to kill. He’s all show, a bully, but he’s not a killer.”

  “You have more faith in their characters than I do. We should keep going. Van and Jo will be waiting for us.”

  »»•««

  Birdie, still exhilarated from her escape, waved to Van and Jo as they caught up to them about three miles from their campsite.

  “We heard gunfire,” Jo said, waving back. “Are you two all right?”

  Birdie giggled. Beside her, Gabe groaned. “I had to go back to say hi to Tommy. I didn’t want him to think his horse wandered off or been taken by thieves. I assured him we’d take good care of Comet and Dancer at the hot spring.”

  “You nearly got yourself, and me, killed is what you did,” Gabe said.

  To Van and Jo, he said, “Ronnie pulled his gun and shot in the air. I think Tom took aim. It sure seemed like he meant to hit one of us. A couple bullets came mighty close.”

  “I know. One sliced through Gypsy’s reins.” Birdie gave her horse a loving pat. “Missed us though, didn’t he, girl.”

  “You didn’t tell me. I thought you were showing off, getting one with your horse. You were hanging on, is what you were doing. Jesus, Birdie. You really could’ve been killed, or Gypsy.”

  “Oh, pooh.”

  “I should yank you down and paddle your pretty, pink little behind,” Gabe said.

  “Oh, yeah, you think my behind is pretty and pink, do you? I’d like to see you try it, Gabriel Buxton. No one’s spanked me in a good long while. It might be kind’a fun.”

  He huffed, pulled in his breath, and then burst out laughing. “After I get through with your behind, it most certainly will be pink—blistering-pink. And yeah, it might be fun at that. But we don’t have time at the moment. Don’t you think I’ll forget, Birdie. You’ve got punishment coming. Right now we need to water these horses and then keep going. We might make it to the hot spring before noon.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The sleepy woman nestled in his arms curled her fingers around one of his hard, exposed nipples. Her drowsy voice was a silky purr. “Buck?”

  Buck closed his eyes. A tear seeped out the corner and wended its way down his jaw. The touch of her skin, her warm hand, her soft, round breast snugged against his ribcage, served to bring to the surface his grief.

  He missed Petra. He wanted her back, but she would never come back—his wife was dead. He had to live on. He had to. Making love with Adella felt right, felt natural, and damn it to hell, he’d had fun. It’d been a while since he could say he’d had fun.

  He had a lot on his mind, with Jo and Birdie-Alice snatched right out from under his nose. Van and Gabe were out there doing what he should be doing—searching—instead of lollygagging in bed with a fine woman. But what could he do? It wouldn’t help for him to go haring off looking for those girls. He wouldn’t know where to start.

  “Buck, honey, I know what you’re thinking,” Adella said. “You’re feeling guilty for lying here in bed while those girls are out there somewhere, probably frightened and cold. You’re thinking you should be out there with Van and Gabe, helping with the search.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in closer. Petra could read minds too. He hoped she would understand—he needed Adella—he needed this, the closeness. Adella temporarily filled the empty spaces, the dark, bleak, cold spaces Petra’s passing left fallow in his heart.

  “I know my going out there wouldn’t do any good.”

  He cocked his head. Someone opened the front door. Buck sensed a draft coming up the stairs. It floated in under the bedroom door. “Somebody’s in the kitchen. Listen, I heard a clink? They closed the cupboard door. When you close the door, it bumps the glasses.”

  “Hmmm, probably Cornell. Remember? He’s leaving for Baker City.”

  “Yeah, I suppose he’s raiding the pantry. Can’t blame him. But I heard voices. I should go down and see the boy off.”

  Adella sighed and rolled out of his embrace, her hand gliding over his chest and sliding down to his abdomen. “I guess you have to. Will you come back?”

  He held his breath, allowing the question to hang in the air. In truth, he didn’t want to leave her, leave his bed. He could get used to Adella in his bed. This bed, where he and Petra had made love in the mornings, at night, in the middle of the day.

  Petra had given birth to Van and Jo in this bed. She’d died in this bed, in his arms, right where Adella lay. The history of this bed, this room held a treasure trove of memories, memories too dear to discard, leave behind.

  He rolled onto his side. And looked into Adell
a’s lovely gray-green eyes. They weren’t Petra’s eyes, but he liked them. He liked Adella, adored her rosy cheeks and playfulness, her pragmatic positivity. He could safely admit that so far, there wasn’t a thing about her that he didn’t like. “I’ll be back. It’s still dark. How about I bring up some coffee? I’ll find something to go with it, maybe apple pie.”

  “Pie? For breakfast?”

  He slid to the edge of the bed and found his trousers. “Sure, pie’s excellent breakfast food. I worked up an appetite, lady. I didn’t eat much yesterday. I feel better this morning, thanks to you.”

  Behind him, he heard her giggle. He liked the sound; for too long this room had echoed with emptiness. This morning the air didn’t seem so heavy in here. He could breathe deep this morning without feeling the usual ache in his chest.

  He fell back to take her in his arms. “Don’t go away—ever—stay.” She giggled and kissed him on the lips. He knew she thought he was joking, but Buck suspected what he’d just said, what he’d asked, was the truth. And it scared the hell out of him.

  He heard another thump and pushed himself away from her all-to-tempting embrace. When he opened the bedroom door, he met Rafe coming out of his room. Doreen stood right behind him, shrugging her shoulders into a dressing gown.

  Doreen peered over her husband’s shoulder and said, “I heard a noise coming from the kitchen.”

  “Yeah,” Buck said, “I’m guessing it’s Cornell helping himself to my larder. But I think Rafe and I should check.”

  Behind him, Adella whispered, “Your shirt?” Her hand appeared in front of his face with his blue chambray shirt dangling from her finger.

  “Adella?” Doreen said, her voice a squeak.

  Buck groaned and stepped out into the hall with Adella hanging on to his arm, his shirt in her hand.

  Adella said a chipper, “Good morning.” Her eyes flashed with mischief as she waggled her fingers at Doreen.

  Rafe cleared his throat, said good morning without meeting Buck’s gaze and put on the shirt his wife handed him.

  Buck lowered his head and finished dressing. Adella disappeared back into the room to fetch his boots. When he had them on, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into his chest for a good sound kiss, and be damned the audience.