Rue Allyn by One Night's Desire Read Free Book Online Page B

you be curious and silent?”
    “Sure, when the occasion calls for it, but this isn’t one of those occasions.”
    “Says you.”
    “Yes I do. Now tell me why we’re going east, if you think the Wildcat is headed west?”
    “‘Cause even though Clem Salter and his buddies are snoring, someone else who isn’t might have seen us leave and could tell the Salter posse which way we went. We’ll circle back around west soon enough.”
    “D’you think the Wildcat will thank us for keeping the reporter and his friends off her trail?”
    “Doubt it. She’s gonna be spittin’ mad when we clap her in irons. The fellas who didn’t catch her aren’t gonna matter much.”
    “Too bad. If she was grateful, she might be more cooperative.”
    “Woman like that isn’t a biddable woman, so she isn’t the kind you want being grateful or cooperative. She’ll cooperate you right out of your weapon then turn it on you. B’fore you know it, you’ll be taking the manacles off of her and putting them on yourself. Then she’ll throw away the key.”
    “That’s a pretty sad way of thinking about women. ‘Sides, didn’t you say the Wildcat was raised genteel?”
    “Don’t generally think that way about women myself. But the Wildcat’s not just a woman.” Ev refused to think of her as some young lady who’d gotten herself into trouble. “She’s a suspect in a murder investigation, and I’m going to treat her like one until I can question her. You should too. Safer that way.”
    “You think she’ll shoot before we get around to asking questions?”
    “I would.”
    “She ain’t you.”
    You can say that again — and again and again.
No, the Wildcat was all woman. He’d seen that right off. During that tussle a month ago and again when he’d gotten a good look at her in the photographs provided for identification by Pinkertons and the government’s survey team. Disguised as a man, she’d worked as one of the team’s photographers — lord knew where she learned that skill — and how anyone could be fooled into thinking she was male was beyond knowing. She’d walked so close to him in the mercantile that he could smell how soft she was, like fine cotton drenched in sunlight. And wasn’t that just about the stupidest thing a man could think. That a hardened criminal smelled good. Who cared what she smelled like, certainly not Evrett Quinn.
    • • •
    The rising moon gave just enough light for Kiera to place her saddle and bags on the ground in the shadow of a deep, rocky overhang. She unstrapped the buffalo robe she used as a bedroll and spread it out foot end toward the fire Muh’Weda was building. Five days on the trail and one more to go before she could rest her aching backside on a bed of soft furs at the Shoshone community on the shores of Lake Yellow Stone.
    “You found us a good campsite.” She had her back to her friend.
    “You’d have found it if you were the one looking. I’ll take the horses to the creek for a drink then hobble them for the night.”
    Without turning around, she nodded. She didn’t have to look to know that Muh’Weda had left. The man had taught her how to walk silently at all times. Because of other lessons from the Shoshone she felt secure being alone in the wilderness as she’d never felt in either San Francisco or Boston.
    She knew how serious her situation was, given the number and types of her pursuers. She couldn’t stay in Wyoming. The Shoshone, Muh’Weda and his family in particular, had been good to her. She wouldn’t bring trouble to them, not when she could prevent it. She’d miss her friends almost as much as she disliked cities. However, she had little choice.
    To Big Si, Muh’Weda was just another Indian, and the rancher couldn’t identify Kiera’s friend as the specific Indian who’d taken the horses. So Muh’Weda could safely remain with his people. She, on the other hand, could be identified. So she’d have to hide in the mountains. She knew the