"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--"
"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 two noble 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."
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 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, Merlin. 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 co
ntinued 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 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 to ride? 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.
"We ain't leaving anybody behind. Not for long, anyhow." Extending his hand, he helped her to her feet. "After I've seen you..." 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--I am 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 will not 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 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 chuckle vibrated in 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 off to do your talking at the same time."
"I don't think that's a good--"
"Pa, you really need to hea
r--"
"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."
Noble Savage Page 29
