"Not throwing me out on my ear when I turned up without warning."
"Don't be silly. This is your home."
"No," she whispered. "it's yours. But I'm grateful to share it for a while."
Before Luke could say anything else, she kissed his cheek and walked quickly from the dining room. Cash stood and watched the outer door for a long, silent moment, admiring the perfection with which Mariah played the role of vulnerable child-woman. She was very good. Even better than Linda had been, and Linda had fooled him completely. Of course, Linda had had a real advantage. She had told him something he would have sold his soul to believe – that she was carrying his child.
What he hadn't known until too late was that Linda had been sleeping with another man. That was another thing women were good at – making each man feel like he was the only one.
"You don't have to worry about Nevada," Luke said calmly.
Startled, Cash turned toward his friend. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, he's a handsome son, but it's you Mariah keeps looking at." Deadpan, Luke added, "Which proves that there's no accounting for taste."
"Despite the beard, Nevada isn't a prospector," Cash pointed out coolly, "and the lady's heart is obviously set on gold."
"The lady was looking at you before she knew you were a prospector. And you were looking at her, period."
Cash's eyes narrowed into gleaming slits of blue. Before he could say anything, Luke was talking again.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, it puts a man between a rock and a hard place when he wants his best friend's little sister. Hell, I ought to know. I spent a lot of years wanting Carla."
"Not as many as she spent wanting you."
Luke smiled crookedly. "So I was a prize fool. If it weren't for her matchmaking older brother, I'd still be waking up alone in the middle of the night."
"Is that what you're doing now? Matchmaking? Is that why you want me to go prospecting with Mariah? You figure we'll find something more valuable and permanent than gold?"
Wincing at Cash's sardonic tone, Luke raked his fingers through his hair as he said, "The area around Devil's Peak is damned wild country."
Cash looked at the ceiling.
"I can't let her go alone," Luke continued.
Cash looked at his hands.
"I can't take her myself."
Cash looked at the floor.
"I need every cowhand I've got, and five more besides."
Cash looked at the table.
Luke swore. "Forget it. I'll get Nevada to—"
"Hell," Cash interrupted fiercely, angered by the thought of throwing Mariah and Nevada together in the vast, lonely reaches of the Rocking M's high country. Cash pinned Luke with a black look. "All right, I'll do it. But I'm usually gone for weeks at a time. Have you thought about that?"
"Mariah said she was a camper. Besides, there's always the Black Springs line shack."
"Damn it, that's not what I mean and you know it! Your sister is one very sexy female."
Luke cocked his head to one side. "Interesting."
A snarl was Cash's only answer.
"No, I mean it," Luke continued. "Not that I think Mariah is a dog, but sexy wouldn't be the word I'd use to describe her. Striking, maybe, with those big golden eyes and lovely smile. Warm. Quick. But not sexy."
"I wouldn't describe Carla as sexy, either."
"Then you're blind."
"No. I'm her brother."
"Point taken," Luke said, grinning.
There was silence, then Cash spoke in a painfully reasonable tone of voice. "Look. It takes half a day just to get to the Black Springs line shack by horseback. From there, it's a hard scramble up boulder-choked creeks and steep canyons. There's no way we can duck in, poke around for a few hours, and duck out. We'll be spending a lot of nights alone."
"I trust you."
"Then you are a damned fool," Cash said, spacing each word carefully.
"You trusted me in the wilds of September Canyon with Carla," Luke pointed out.
"Yeah. Think about it. Carla ended up pregnant and alone."
Luke grimaced. "You're not as big a fool as I was."
"Damn it—"
"Mariah is twenty-two," Luke continued over Cash's words, "college educated, a consenting adult in every sense of the word. I trust you in exactly the same way you trusted me, and for the same reason. You may be hardheaded as hell and not trust women worth a damn, but you would never touch a girl unless she wanted you to. Mariah will never be safer in that way than when she is with you. Beyond that, whatever happens or doesn't happen between the two of you is none of my business."
For a minute there was no sound in the dining room. Cash stood motionless, his hands jammed in his back pockets, his mind racing as he assessed the situation and the man he loved more than most men loved their blood brothers. In the end, there was only one possible conclusion: Luke meant every word he had said.
Well, at least I won't have to worry about getting Mariah pregnant the way Luke did Carla.
But Cash's bitterly ironic thought remained unspoken. It wasn't the sort of thing a man talked about.
"I'll hold you to that," Cash said finally.
Luke nodded, then smiled widely and gave Cash an affectionate whack on his shoulder. "Thanks for getting me off the hook. I owe you one."
"Like hell. I spend more time here than I do in my apartment in Boulder."
"So move here. You can build at the other end of the big pasture, just across the stream from Ten and Diana. Plenty of space."
"One of these days you're going to say that and I'm going to take you up on it."
"Why do you think I keep saying it?" Luke stretched and yawned. "Damn, I wish Carla were home. I never sleep as well when she's gone."
"You're breaking my heart. Go to bed."
"Mariah's waiting for me."
"I'll tell her what we decided," Cash said. "With luck, she'll change her mind when she finds out Nevada won't be her trusty wilderness guide."
"Are you deaf as well as blind? I keep telling you, it's not Nevada she's looking at!"
Cash turned on his heel and left the room without saying another word, but he let the outside door close behind him hard enough to make a statement about his temper.
Outside, the cool summer darkness was awash with stars and alive with the murmur of air sliding down from the highlands to the long, flat valley that was the Rocking M's center. Lights burned in the bunkhouse and in the old ranch house. Cash moved with the swift, ground-covering strides of a man who has spent much of his adult life walking over wild lands in search of the precious metals that fed civilization's endless demands. Though he wore only a shirt and jeans, he didn't notice the crisp breeze." He knocked on the front door of the old ranch house with more force than courtesy.
"Come in, Luke. It's open."
"It's Cash. Is it still open?"
Mariah looked down at her oversize cotton nightshirt and bare feet. For an instant she wished she were wearing Spanish lace, Chinese silk and French perfume. Then she sighed. As angry as Cash sounded, she could be naked and it wouldn't make a speck of difference.
What is it about me that irritates him?
There was no answer to the question, other than the obvious one. He wasn't wild about the idea of being saddled with her out in the backcountry, just as he hadn't been wild about helping her with her car. He looked at her as a helpless, useless burden. That shouldn't surprise her. Her stepfather had felt precisely the same way.
Mariah opened the door and stifled an impulse to slam it shut before Cash could come in. He towered over her, looming out of the darkness like a mountain, and his eyes were black with anger.
"Come in, or would you rather bite my head off out in the yard?"
The sound Cash made could most politely be described as a growl. He stepped forward. Mariah retreated. A gust of wind sucked the door shut.
Cash looked at the nightshirt that should have concealed Mariah's curves but ended up teas
ing him by draping softly over her breasts and hips. Desire tightened his whole body, hammering through him with painful intensity. The thought of being alone with her night after night was enough to make him slam his fist into the wall from sheer frustration.
"What do you know about wild country?" Cash asked savagely.
"It's where gold is found."
He hissed a single word, then said, "This won't be a trendy pseudo-wilderness trek along a well-beaten path maintained by the National Park Service. Can you even ride a horse?"
"Yes."
"Can you ride rough country for half a day, then scramble over rocks for another half day?"
"If I have to."
"The line shack leaks and it rains damn near every night. The only privy is a short-handled shovel. At the end of a hard day you have to gather firewood, haul water, wash out your socks so you won't blister the next day, eat food you're too tired to cook properly, sleep on a wood floor that has more drafts than bare dirt would and—"
"You make it sound irresistible," Mariah interrupted. "I accept."
"Damn it, you aren't even listening!"
"You aren't telling me anything I don't already know."
"Then you better know this. We'll be alone out there, and I mean alone."
Mariah met Cash's dark glance without flinching and said, "I've been alone since I was dragged off the Rocking M fifteen years ago."
Cash jammed his hands into his back pockets. "That's not what I meant, lady. Up on Devil's Peak you could scream your pretty head off and no one would hear."
"You would."
"What if I'm the one making you scream? Have you thought about that?"
"Frankly, you're making me want to scream right now."
There was a charged silence.
Mariah smiled tentatively and put her hand out in silent appeal. "I know what you're trying to say, Cash, but let's be honest. I don't have the kind of looks that drive a man crazy with desire and we both know it. Just as we both know you don't want to take me across the road, much less spend a few weeks in the wild with me. But I'm going to Devil's Peak. I've been dreaming of looking for Mad Jack's mine as long as I can remember. Come hell or high water, that's what I'm going to do."
Cash looked down at the pale, graceful hand held out to him in artful supplication. He remembered how cool and silky Mariah's fingers had felt when they had rested on his bare forearm. He remembered how quickly her hand had warmed at his touch. He wondered if all of her would catch fire that fast.
The thought made him burn.
"I'll take care of packing the supplies and horses," Cash said coldly, "because sure as hell you won't know how. We leave in five hours. If you aren't ready, I'll leave without you."
"I'll be ready."
Cash turned and left the house before Mariah could see just how ready he was right now.
~ 6 ~
Five hours later Mariah pulled open the front door before Cash could knock. Silently he stared at her, noting the lace-up shoes, faded jeans, an emerald turtleneck T-shirt beneath a black V-necked sweater and a long-sleeved man's flannel shirt that ended at her hips. The arms of a windbreaker were tied casually around her neck. The outfit should have made her look as appealing as a mud post, but it was all he could do not to run his hands over her to find the curves he knew waited beneath the sensible trail clothes.
"Here," Cash said, holding out a pair of cowboy boots. "Luke said to wear these if they fit. They're Carla's."
While Mariah tried on the boots, Cash glanced around. She had packed a lot less gear than he had expected. A military surplus backpack was stuffed tightly and propped against the wall. Other military surplus items were tied to the backpack – canteen, mess kit and the like. Extra blankets had been rolled up and tied with thongs.
"Where's your sleeping bag?" he asked.
"I don't have one."
"What the hell are you planning to sleep on?"
"My side, usually. Sometimes my stomach."
Cash clenched his jaw. "What about hiking boots?"
"My shoes are tougher than they look." Mariah stood and stamped her feet experimentally. "They're long enough, but they pinch in the toes."
"That's how you know they're cowboy boots," Cash retorted.
Mariah glanced at Cash's big feet. He was wearing lace-up, rough-country hiking boots that came to just below his knees. The heels were thick enough to catch and hold the edge of a stirrup securely. She had priced a similar pair in Seattle and decided that she would have to find Mad Jack's mine before she could afford the boots.
She bent down, tied her shoes to the backpack, and picked it up. "Ready."
Cash's long, powerful arm reached out, snagged Mariah's impromptu bedroll, and stuffed it none too gently into her hands. "Don't forget this."
"You're too kind," she muttered.
"I know."
Empty-handed, Cash followed Mariah to the corral. Four horses waited patiently in the predawn darkness. Two of them were pack animals. The other two were saddled. Cash added Mariah's scant baggage to one of the existing packs and lashed everything securely in place. Moments later he stepped into the saddle of a big, rawboned mountain horse, picked up the lead rope of the pack animals and headed out into the darkness without so much as a backward look.
"It won't work," Mariah said clearly. "I don't need your help to carry my stuff. I don't need your help to get on a horse. I don't need your help for one damned thing except to make Luke feel better!"
If Cash heard, he didn't answer.
Mariah went to the remaining horse, untied it and mounted a good deal less gracefully than Cash had. It had been six years since she had last ridden, but the reflexes and confidence were still there. When she reined the small mare around and booted it matter-of-factly in the ribs, it quickly trotted after Cash's horse. The mare was short-legged and rough-gaited, but amiable enough for a child to ride.
An hour later Mariah would have traded the mare's good temperament for a mean-spirited horse with a trot that didn't rattle her teeth. The terrain went up and down. Steeply. If there was a trail, Mariah couldn't make it out in the darkness, which meant that she spent a lot of time slopping around in the saddle because there was no way for her to predict her horse's next movements. She would be lucky to stand up at the end of three more hours of such punishment, much less hike with a backpack up a steep mountain and look for gold until the sun went down.
Don't forget the bit about hauling water and washing your socks, Mariah advised herself dryly. On second thought, do forget it. No socks could be that dirty.
When dawn came, it was a blaze of incandescent beauty that Mariah was too uncomfortable to fully appreciate. Whichever way she turned in the saddle, her body complained.
Even so, she felt the tug of undiscovered horizons expanding away in all directions. It was exciting to be in a place where not so much as a glimpse of man was to be seen. For all that she could tell, she and Cash might have been the first people ever to travel the land. Wild country rolled away from her on all sides in pristine splendor, shades of green and white and gray, evergreens and granite.
Mixed in with the darker greens of conifers was the pale green of aspens at the higher elevations, a green that was subtly repeated by grassy slopes at the lower elevations and occasional meadows in between. Ahead, Devil's Peak loomed in black, shattered grandeur, looking like the eroded ruins of a volcano rather than the granite peak Mariah had expected.
I wonder why Cash is searching for gold on a volcano's flanks? All the strikes I've read about were in granite, not lava.
Mariah would have asked Cash to explain this reasoning to her, but she had promised herself that she wouldn't speak until he did. Not even to ask for a rest break. Instead, she just hooked one leg around the saddle horn and rode sidesaddle for a time. She prayed there would be enough strength left in her cramped muscles to keep her upright after she dismounted.
As the sun rose, its heat intensified until it burned through the high cou
ntry's crystalline air. The last chill of night quickly surrendered to the golden fire. Mariah began shedding layers of clothing until only the long-sleeved, fitted ski shirt remained. She unzipped the turtleneck collar and shoved up the sleeves, letting the breeze tease as much of her skin as it could reach.
At the end of four hours, Mariah rather grimly reined the mare down a narrow rocky crease that opened into a tiny valley. Although Cash had been only a few minutes ahead of her, he had already unloaded the pack animals and was in the act of throwing his saddle over the corral railing. Even as Mariah resented it, she envied his muscular ease of movement. She pulled her horse to a halt and slowly, carefully, began to dismount.
Two seconds later she was sitting in the dirt. Her legs simply hadn't been able to support the rest of her. She gritted her teeth and was beginning the tedious job of getting to her feet when she felt herself picked up with dizzying speed. The world shifted crazily. When it settled again, she was being carried like a child against Cash's chest.
"I thought you said you could ride," Cash said harshly.
"I can." Mariah grimaced. "I just proved it, remember?"
"And now you won't be able to walk."
"Quelle shock. Wasn't that the whole idea? You didn't want me looking for gold with you and now I won't be able to. Not right away, at any rate. I'll be fine as soon as my legs start cooperating again and then you'll be out of luck."
Cash's mouth flattened into a hard line. "How long has it been since you were on a horse?"
"About a minute."
Against his will, Cash found himself wanting to smile. Any other woman would have been screaming at him or crying or doing both at once. Despite the grueling ride, Mariah's sense of humor was intact. Biting, but intact.
And she felt exciting in his arms, warm and supple, soft, fitting him without gaps or angles or discomfort. He shifted her subtly, savoring the feel of her, silently urging her to relax against his strength.
"Sorry, honey," he said. "If I had known how long it had been since—"
"Pull my other leg," Mariah interrupted. Then she smiled wearily. "On second thought, don't. It might fall off."
"How long has it been since you've ridden?" he asked again.
GRANITE MAN Page 5
