Reilly's Woman by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online

bush. It served to prolong the task.
    When her clothes were laid out to dry, she started on Reilly's. She was straightening the sleeves on his brown jacket when a loosened stone rolled down the slope behind her. Turning, she saw Reilly working his way down, his arms laden with small, broken chunks of wood. The bulk of it seemed to be pieces of timber from the mine.
    "Hello!" Her greeting echoed the happiness and relief she felt at his return. Mostly it was happiness. "I see you found some wood."
    "There's more up there, so we won't have to worry about wood for the timebeing." He flashed her a quick smile, the mask of aloofness gone. "I found something else, too."
    "What?" Leah held her breath.
    She sensed that whatever he had found pleased him. It was responsible for the brilliant light in his eyes that seemed to radiate a satisfied glow over his compelling features. Maybe he had seen a road or highway on the other side of the mountain.
    "Water," Reilly stated, dumping the wood on to the ground near the center of the clearing. He looked back up the mountain. "There's a rocky outcropping on the east side beneath a slight overhang. It's shaped like a basin. Last night's rain filled it about half full."
    "Then it's safe to drink?" It wasn't a sign of civilization he had found, but her cottony tongue said it was nearly as good.
    "It's rain water." The corners of his eyes crinkled to match the smile curving the male line of his mouth.
    "I feel like drinking the canteen dry to celebrate," she laughed.
    "Be my guest." He motioned toward the canteen as he kneeled beside the pile of wood.
    "Now that I know I can drink, I don't feel very thirsty," she shrugged.
    Reilly picked out a thin plank of wood and used it as a scraper to clear a fire circle. "Would you gather some stones to make a fire ring? Some of those near the slide will do."
    Hampered by her sore arm, it was a slow job collecting the medium sized rocks to form an outer protective ring. When Reilly had the ground cleared to his satisfaction, he took out his pocket knife and began splintering wood for kindling. The tiny mound of wood chips lay in the center of the circle.
    "Do you have any paper?" Reilly asked.
    "Some tissue in my cosmetic case," Leah volunteered.
    "That should work fine." While she went to get it, he removed a box of matches from his inside jacket pocket.
    She handed him one of the white tissues and watched him stuff it beneath the wood chips. Removing one match, he struck against the side of the box. He cupped the flame protectively with his hand as he carried it to the tissue andkindling. The white tissue charred, then burst into flame. A teasing breeze swirled the tiny fire.
    Reilly nursed it carefully so the fire wouldn't be blown out. "If there's one guarantee in lighting a fire, it's that no matter which way the wind is blowing when you start, it will change direction the minute the fire has started." He slid a glittering look at Leah, amusement in the crooked smile. "Invariably blowing the smoke at the person who started the fire."
    "Is that a piece of Indian lore?" She laughed at the truth in his comment.
    "Naturally." As the kindling started to burn, Reilly added slightly larger pieces of wood, stacking them in a pyramid around and above the small flame.
    There was only a small breeze blowing, a mere breath of wind. Leah looked around the clearing at the dry-looking sagebrush that stretched over the mountainside. Here and there a pinyon tree dotted the slopes, but they were very few.
    "There isn't any chance of starting a grass fire, is there?" she asked, trying not to imagine the horror of trying to escape from that.
    "Very little," Reilly answered. "The fire ring will keep the flames from spreading as long as the wind isn't strong. Strangely enough, it's rare to have a fire sweep through the desert, considering how dry and flammable some of the plants are."
    "Why?" Leah tipped her head curiously to one side, absently tucking the opposite side of