Kate still didn’t fully trust him, yet she didn’t want him to leave her. “How do I know you’ll come back?”
“Because you have my word. I don’t break promises, and I have no use for people who do.”
Kate watched the potatoes begin to sizzle. “But I won’t be safe here. You said outlaws use this cave.”
“They do. It’s just a chance we have to take. I can travel a lot faster without you along. I’ll leave what supplies I have left, and you have blankets and more wood. There’s water farther back in this cave that trickles out of the rocks, so you have that, too. And I’ll leave you a gun for wolves…or for men, if necessary.” Luke glanced at her. “You up to it?”
“Up to shooting a man?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“If it means my honor or my life, yes, I could shoot a man. You might want to remember that yourself.”
Luke finished slicing the two potatoes and shoved his knife back into its sheath. “Kate, look at it this way. If I was going to take advantage, don’t you think I would have done so already?”
“How do I know you didn’t?”
“You’d know.”
Kate looked away, embarrassed at what he meant by the remark. “The fact remains that you almost died not long ago,” she said. “I guess you aren’t exactly in any shape to take advantage if you wanted to.”
Luke sighed. “Kate, there is a code out here when it comes to how a woman is treated. Most men in these parts respect a good woman. And I’m obligated to you. Rest easy tonight and get any thoughts out of your head about me taking advantage when you were passed out. I just didn’t want you taking sick on me. Is that understood?”
Kate met his gaze and saw honesty in his eyes. “Yes.” She could tell he was a man who meant what he said. “And I appreciate your help. But I also want you to understand that a woman alone is not totally helpless and unable to survive without a man.”
“Seems to me like you are a bit helpless and do need a man at the moment,” Luke answered.
Kate met his gaze. He was smiling again.
“I’m just trying to get a smile out of you, Kate. How many ways can I say I’m here to help, not hurt, and to get you to relax?”
Kate couldn’t help but return the smile. “All right. We will change the subject. You keep saying you intend to kill those men. Is it that easy for you? To kill men?”
“Yes, when those men try to kill me first. The war kind of hardened me to killing.” He stirred the food once more. “Besides, if those men learn I’m still alive—and they will—they will keep coming after me. I don’t intend to have to worry about that.”
“You just don’t seem like a man who could kill so easily.” The war—or something that happened after that—changed you.
“Don’t underestimate me, Kate. But don’t be afraid of me either. I’m fair and good to men who are fair and good to me.”
Kate nodded. “I think I understand.”
“Good. And if you do need to use the gun I leave you, use it. Don’t think twice about it. There are always the no-goods who just plain don’t respect a woman for any reason. Sometimes it’s kill or be killed out here. Now let’s eat and get some sleep. I’ll make sure things are set up good for you before I leave in the morning.”
Their gazes held, and Kate felt a growing closeness to the man. “Do you have a family somewhere, Luke? Or a woman waiting somewhere?”
He looked away then and drank more coffee. “Not anymore.”
There was the bitterness again.
“War changes a lot of things,” he added, all-out anger in the words.
Kate decided not to press the issue. Right now, she didn’t relish the thought of sitting alone in this cave in the middle of the most God-forsaken country she’d ever seen, worried about wolves, and not just the four-legged kind. They both remained silent while they watched the potatoes and quail meat turn brown. After a few minutes Luke turned to a gunny sack and took out two forks.
“These have probably been used by somebody else, but we don’t have much choice.” He handed her one and pulled the pan off the fire. “Let’s eat. We can share right out of the pan.”
Kate took the fork and stabbed a few slices of potato. “Thank you, Luke, for everything,” she said.
He drank a little more coffee. “You can thank me when and if I get us out of this mess.”
“I think you will. You seem to be a strong and able man.”
“And I got myself hanged.” Luke stabbed at the quail meat. “I won’t get over that shame until I find those men and make them pay.”
“You shouldn’t feel ashamed. You could hardly have stopped them. But if it will make you feel better, then I will pray that you find them and get your revenge,” Kate told him.
“Well, since you are a Christian woman, I take hope in your prayers,” he answered. “Right now, let’s finish eating and get some rest. Maybe another whole night of not talking will help my throat feel better. You’re welcome to a little of that whiskey if it will help you sleep.”
“No. Thank you. I’ve never tasted that demon drink and do not wish to start. I am worn out enough to sleep just fine.”
“No headache? That’s a damn big bump on your forehead, and it’s purple and topped off with a scabbed cut.”
“It doesn’t hurt too much. Is Red all right?”
“He’s fine.”
They finished eating, and Luke made up his own bedroll. “I’m done in,” he told Kate. He added some wood to the fire. “It’s near dark. Fire should keep the wolves away,” he said before lying down and resting his head on his saddle, turning his back to her.
Kate thought how, if nothing more, Luke Bowden was a practical man who knew survival. She turned back to her own bedroll and settled in as the fire snapped and spit bigger flames, the smoke wandering on a draft that pulled it somewhere into the back of the cave to places she decided she’d not bother exploring.
She did not look forward to watching Luke Bowden ride out of her life in the morning. If something happened to him, she would likely die right here in this cave, never to be heard from again in the outside world.
Six
Luke urged Red through the deep but melting snow, glad for the fact that the weather had changed yet again, this time for the better. Warmer temperatures returned, and he removed his heavy jacket and tucked it under the rope that held his bedroll. He’d traveled a good twenty miles or more, pushing poor Red almost to the gelding’s limit.
He was headed up a steep hill, walls of rock guarding both sides of the awesome, yellow valley that continued on for miles between cliffs and mesas. Big, lonely country it was. He’d grown used to it, and to the kind of men who lived here, most of them as lonely as the land…and as lonely as he was.
He supposed it was time to move on with life, time to get over the war—and Bonnie.
He was surprised to even have such thoughts, and he wondered if it was because of being around Kate Winters. She’d awakened his baser and very neglected needs—that desire to have a woman in his life, have children, get back to living a normal life, if he even knew what was normal anymore. He’d just met Kate and still hardly knew her, yet he found himself worrying about her the way a man would worry about a woman he truly cared about. He felt guilty for leaving her behind in that cave all alone and couldn’t forget the look of doubt and fear in her eyes when he left at sunrise. But this way he could get the help and supplies they needed much quicker, and he couldn’t buy supplies without money. The men who’d attempted to kill him had robbed him, too, left only a few coins in his pants pocket. He had to get to Lander as fast as possible, and Kate and the travois would slow him down too much. Besides, Red could not have gone on carrying both their weights and pulling more weight behind him. The poor animal would die—and being caught out here with no food and no horse would mean sure death for him a
nd Kate both.
Kate had enough food for about three days, and at least there was a water supply inside the cave. Still, all sorts of dangers lurked for a woman alone in outlaw country. Would she be smart enough to use the gun he’d left behind if she needed to? A woman was more prone to hesitate than a man, and hesitation could cost her in a lot of ways that were as bad or worse than death. He worried about wolves and bears, but he worried more about men.
The woman had grit, and under all that dirt, messed up hair, and torn, dirty dress was a lovely woman. How was he supposed to forget the round, pale breasts he’d seen when he’d removed her dress? He could tell by the slim shape of her legs and hips that she’d be beautiful naked.
“Shit,” he muttered. He’d been too long without a woman. He couldn’t get her off his mind. She was alone back there at that cave, and what she needed was a hot meal, a warm bath, clean clothes, and a real bed. He’d damn well make sure she got that much, but he couldn’t take too much time doing it.
He told himself to stop thinking so much about a woman he barely knew. Once he got help for her, he’d make sure she found a safe way to keep heading west, and they would part ways. It was probably his broken heart that was bringing on these feelings. He reminded himself that maybe even a woman like Kate couldn’t be trusted any more than Bonnie. But then Bonnie had been so young. Still, it sure as hell didn’t take her long to turn to his brother once he’d left for the war. By the time he got home, she’d married Matt, and they already had two sons. That was five years ago, and it was time to get over it. Still, it wasn’t the woman herself he couldn’t forget. It was her betrayal.
He shook away the thought. He needed to concentrate on matters at hand, and that was finding the men who’d hanged him. He knew he was close. Earlier today he’d come across the fresh remains of a camp, the ground all around trampled to the point where there was no snow left, just wet, scrunched grass. There was no doubt who’d camped there. He was damn close, and the town of Lander was just over this hill. He’d made it here in record time, and he hoped to settle things before dark so he could leave in the morning and get right back to Kate. He never would have reached Lander this soon if he’d not left her behind, and now he owed it to her to waste no time getting back to that cave. The sooner he settled things in Lander, the sooner he could help Kate.
He reached the top of the hill and halted Red. There below, less than a mile in the distance, lay Lander, which was nothing more than a few centered buildings surrounded by a scattering of sheds, houses, and a few other supply businesses. Corrals were spread out all around, full mostly of stolen stock, he was sure. His own cattle were down there somewhere, and if he couldn’t get them back, he’d damn well get back the money he’d paid for them. Lucky for him, those men had done a piss-poor job of trying to hang him, but that mistake would be very unlucky for them!
He headed down the hill and straight for the corrals, reaching them in about twenty minutes. In the distance he heard the clanging of a blacksmith’s maul. A few men moved about, but other than that, the town seemed fairly quiet. It was late afternoon, and he figured most men were already in the saloons.
He led Red in a slow walk around several pens, realizing his herd could be mixed in with others by now. One white-faced Hereford looked the same as the next, except for a young bull he’d named Scout. Scout had an odd black spot shaped like the number seven on his white forehead. He figured the bull would be a good breeder and had paid damn good money for him. If he could find Scout, he’d know the rest of his cattle were here, which meant the men he was after were also here. They would take plenty of time now to relax, visit the bathhouses, and get their fill of whiskey and whores.
“Lookin’ for somethin’, mister?”
Luke glanced up at a man who sat on a fence with a rifle across his lap, obviously hired to watch for thieves.
“Looking for a young bull that would have been brought in with twenty other cattle yesterday,” he answered. “He’s easy to pick out—has a black spot on his forehead that looks like the number seven.”
“What’s it to ya’?”
“That’s my business. Have you seen it?”
The guard pushed his hat back a little, then nodded toward a far corral Luke hadn’t visited yet. “Over there. How’d you know about him?”
“That’s also my business. Thanks for letting me know.” Luke turned his horse and rode to the corral the guard had indicated. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered when he spotted Scout in a pen that separated him from the female stock. A small herd browsed in a nearby corral, some eating feed out of a trough, some lying down in the morning sun. He counted them. Nineteen.
He couldn’t believe his luck. He had no doubt they were his. One of the cows had one leg that was far darker than the rest of her body—another mark that helped him identify them. He trotted Red back over to the guard. “Those cattle been sold yet?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask in town.”
“Oh, I’ll ask all right.” Luke turned Red in the direction of town. I’ll do more than ask.
“Try the Royal Flush saloon,” the cowboy yelled out to him. “That’s the most popular stop here.”
Luke nodded and headed up the street.
Seven
Silence. Nothing else. Kate sat at the edge of the cave, looking out at the unending expanse of red rock that walled the meandering valley ahead. If not for the wind that made the tall grass ripple and sway, it would be like looking at a painting of cliffs and mesas and yellow grass—here and there a boulder or one lonely tree, and no explanation for how they got there.
Did God have fun creating this part of the country? Did he pick up rocks and trees and plants from someplace else and just toss them into the valley and leave them where they landed?
She breathed deeply, longing to be able to wash and brush out her hair, which she’d again pulled back at the sides and secured with combs. She hated feeling so filthy, hated not being able to change her clothes. She couldn’t cook because there was nothing to cook. She didn’t make a fire because it had warmed up and she didn’t want to waste the wood. She couldn’t bathe. She couldn’t wash these clothes because there wasn’t enough water and she had nothing to change into. She couldn’t brush down a horse because she had no horse. She hadn’t even seen any more wild horses since those she saw the day she freed Luke Bowden from a noose around his neck. Nor had she spotted an eagle, or even another quail.
She’d spent a restless night, unable to sleep because she knew Luke would leave this morning for Lander. He’d left at the crack of dawn and should have reached town by now. She worried he wouldn’t come back, either on purpose or because he’d be killed today by the men who’d hanged him. That was a distinct possibility and could mean her own death. She’d had no choice but to put her life in the hands of a complete stranger.
Now she worried wolves would come for her tonight. She almost wished they would, because shooting at wolves would give her something to do. Their barks and growls would be music to her ears compared to this utter silence so intense it actually hurt her ears.
Alone was not a strong enough word for this feeling. If only she had something to read, a newspaper, the Bible. She decided to occupy her time by coming up with a word that better fit her situation.
Desolate? Forlorn? Deserted? Isolated? Abandoned?
She touched her sore forehead. The swelling had gone down, but there was a small, scabbed cut there, and she didn’t doubt it was bruised. She shook away an urge to scream and began thinking of more words—this time words that described the landscape spread out before her.
Astounding. Breathtaking. Vast. Immense. Magnificent. And again, desolate. Desolate seemed to fit both her and the land.
All senses came more alive when she spotted a rider in the distance. She stood up and shaded her eyes to see better. Luke couldn’t possibly be returning this soon, unless some
thing had gone wrong. Her heart beat a little faster at the possibilities. Was he a thief? A rustler? A killer? And was he headed for this cave to rest for a day or two? She tried to guess how far away he was, and how much time she had before he would reach the cave, if that was where he was headed. Right now, he was just a dot on the landscape—a dot that was moving in her direction.
She’d learned on the way out here that nothing was ever as close as it seemed, and what looked like distant clouds turned out to be mountains. What looked like water was just a hazy, rippling atmosphere created by heat.
Still, what seemed to be a man riding in her direction now truly did appear to be just what she thought it was. How much time did she have? An hour? Two hours?
Luke, where are you? Is that you coming? Did you change your mind? Maybe he would never come. Maybe he would ride on without her. Why should he bother coming all the way back here, and why did she trust he would? She was no one to him. There would be saloons and other men and gambling and whores where he was going. What man would turn all that down to hurry back to a woman who could die up here and never be missed. Even if she was found, no one would know who she was—or care. She could be thrown over a cliff and left for the wolves and buzzards.
She stepped away from the ledge, afraid the oncoming rider might see her and ride even faster to find out who was in this cave. Maybe he would just ride on by. Yes, that was a possibility! She would hide in here until he was gone.
Then what? More loneliness? More waiting? More maddening silence? For all she knew, he was a decent man who would have food with him and would help her like Luke had. What if Luke never came back and she passed up this chance for help? How could anyone make such choices in a place like this, where everyone a person met was a stranger…and likely an outlaw?
She had no choice but to wait this out and pray the person coming had a heart and decent intentions. If she had to defend herself, she had nothing on her side but the element of surprise—and one six-gun.
Ride the High Lonesome Page 4
