Foxfire Bride by Maggie Osborne Read Free Book Online Page B

Matthew Tanner sure did look good on a horse. He rode with his hat pulled down to shade his face, and one wrist resting lightly on the saddle horn. He looked like a man who had fifty thousand dollars to spare. Which was to say, he was as far out of reach to someone like Fox as the most distant star.
    But he thought her hair was a beautiful color. If that didn't beat all. She never would have imagined that any part of her would look beautiful to a man like Matthew Tanner.
     
    Tanner heated river water over the fire then shaved standing in front of a mirror he'd hung from a tree branch. Neither Hanratty nor Brown bothered with a razor. This was fine with Tanner. The rougher and more disreputable they looked, the less inclined anyone would be to challenge their party.
    He'd wondered if Fox would seek privacy for her morning ablutions, but she didn't. She went about washing her face at the river and then brushing out her hair and replaiting it in a no-nonsense manner that suggested she wasn't aware or didn't care that all the men watched her with sidelong glances.
    But of course she was aware. By now Tanner knew Fox was alert to everything happening around her. For that matter so was everyone else in the group. This created a sense of tension, but also enhanced security. It wasn't likely that anything would take them by surprise.
    After breakfast, Fox announced they had a long hard day ahead and explained the reason. "Ordinarily the Paiutes don't attack without cause, but apparently they bushwhacked a rancher's cabin and killed the whole family. Rather than tempt fate, we'll ride past Miller's Station and go on to Fort Churchill."
    "Who's to say the rancher didn't give them cause?" Hanratty asked, tossing out the remains of his coffee.
    Jubal Brown frowned. "The soldiers at Fort Churchill, are they Union or Confederate?"
    Fox gave him a long stare. "They're Indian fighters, Mr. Brown."
    Tanner stepped up beside her. "Strictly speaking, the soldiers are Union since they're paid by the government. But they aren't fighting your war."
    Brown's lips twisted and for an instant Tanner saw the killer beneath the good-old-boy facade. Cutter Hanratty looked like the gun-for-hire that he was. But in Tanner's opinion, Brown was equally dangerous, or more so, because his plain open face and apparent good humor lulled one into forgetting that his reputation was more ruthless than Hanratty's.
    Peaches broke an uncomfortable silence. "With your permission, Mr. Tanner, I'd like to put a pannier on the money mule and stow the gold inside. I think it'll be more secure and less likely to shift and spook the mule."
    "Less conspicuous, too," Fox offered.
    They were correct, Tanner thought, irritated that he hadn't noticed himself. All the mules but his were piled high with supplies. The money mule had a thin lumpy cargo hidden beneath a tarp, and stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb.
    Once the adjustments were made, they rode out onto land that became increasingly dry and barren as the day progressed. The river cut through endless expanses of winter brown sagebrush and grass, the river-bank shrubbery offering the only hint of green in a rolling landscape of beige and brown.
    When the mules weren't kicking up clouds of chilly dust, Tanner could see Fox's braid swaying against the back of her poncho like an arrow pointing forward.
    He'd heard of women like Fox, but he hadn't met such a person before. Undoubtedly that accounted for an interest bordering on fascination. She didn't behave like any woman he'd ever known, which made her appealing in a way that puzzled him.
    It occurred to him that his father would be appalled if he knew that Tanner found himself drawn to a woman like Fox, which wasn't surprising as he'd never lived up to his father's expectations. Somehow he always fell short of the mark. He'd believed that he would stop caring about disappointing his father once he achieved adulthood, but it hadn't worked that way. His father still