Wed To The Montana Cowboy. Carol Arens
for miles around.
The woman lowered her instrument. She pivoted with a scowl.
“Be quiet, Screech! You don’t need to copy every—” Her eyes widened when she saw him. “Oh! Good morning... By George, you don’t look half-bad considering...well, that you were hit by a kettle.”
Beauty incarnate gazed, wide-eyed, at him...so did the young prostitute from the dock.
She hurried down the rise in long strides. She stopped at a large travel trunk and put her violin inside then closed the lid.
He stood up because she was walking toward him now and he wanted to judge how tall she really was.
He was used to women much shorter. The top of her head would neatly tuck under his chin were he holding her in an embrace.
The temptation to get aquatinted in a carnal way was hard to ignore. With her size, he would not have to worry about hurting her during—
He wouldn’t know her that way, of course. He’d taken the Hippocratic oath. It went bone deep in spite of how things had turned out. That bit about doing no harm meant something to him. To consort with such a woman, especially one so new to the trade, would most certainly do her harm.
“Well, to be truthful...” She stood four feet away and she smelled the same as she had last night...sweet and female to the core. “I’m the one who hit you with the kettle.”
He nodded and glanced about the campsite, wondering what had become of his team and wagon.
“I do beg your pardon.” She wrung her hands in front of her. “I thought you were a thief...or worse.”
“Reckon that’s understandable since I did sneak up on you in the dark.”
“Sit down here, mister. Your skin still looks like milk.”
She pointed to a spot beside the long-cold embers of the campfire.
He did feel peaked so he eased down onto the spot.
“Can you eat something?” she asked then hurried toward a pair of saddlebags. She rifled through them, frowning.
“I figure Mike owes me a meal... Oh, here’s some jerked beef, at least.”
The soiled dove knelt before him, looking fresh as morning. Women of her kind tended to look drawn and haggard at this time of day due to being active all night.
“Can you eat some, do you think?” She held the dried beef toward him. “I’d feel ever so much better if you did.”
In spite of how his stomach still felt queasy, he took a bite. It wasn’t half as bad as he feared so he took another.
The relief in her expression made him take a third bite and nod his thanks while he chewed.
With a smile, she sat across from him, her legs tucked beneath her. He couldn’t help but wonder what legs like that would look like in all their bare, long-limbed glory.
For a dollar, he’d be able to find out. If he were another kind of man—one like Mike, say—he would.
Instead, he sighed and wondered.
“It’s not my business and you can say so, but why did you come out here with Mike, that is, why did you leave the safety of town?”
“First of all, I doubt that Coulson is all that safe. But Mike and I had business together. Business which he reneged on.”
“If you don’t mind my saying so, that was for the best.”
“I can’t imagine why you would think so.” She reached across the cold fire pit. “Here, turn your head so I can see that lump.”
“It’s not the worst I’ve ever had. I’ll do.”
The young whore broke a piece of the jerky off then leaned sideways to give it to the bird.
“Yummy,” the green-feathered creature said three times while holding the beef in one claw and happily nibbling on it.
“I’ve got to go see to my team and wagon. But wait here, I’ll be back,” he said.
“I’ve already taken care of them. I heard your horses neighing after...after things settled down last night. I brought them here. See, there they are down by the stream.”
“You wandered away from the safety of the fire?”
“There wasn’t much help for it unless I wanted to leave your poor beasts unattended.”
“There are wild things out there, miss. You’re lucky you didn’t meet up with any of them.”
“I’d prefer a wild beast to a wild man. When was the last time you heard of a bear stealing a woman’s savings? The same cannot be said of Mike.”
“He is a bad one.” A lecture might be out of line but hell if he could keep himself from giving it. “I’m sorry about your money, miss. Have you spent a long time earning it?”
“I began when I was fourteen.” She sighed, clearly disgusted. “To think of the hours I gave to the single gentlemen of Kansas City. I wore myself out, up all hours, often by candlelight, and all so that miserable creature, Mike, could ride off with what I had earned.”
“There’s more than money you might have lost...your health for one thing.”
“I feel fit as a fiddle, thank you very much.”
“That’s because you are young...and you’ve been lucky with the men you have serviced.”
“Might I point out that they were the lucky ones? I gave them fair exchange for every dollar. Even though I was young I put my heart into what I did.”
“As admirable as that is...you are going to end up sick. Your way of life will kill you.”
“And what do you know about my way of life? We are all but strangers.”
“I saw you yesterday, at the dock sitting on your trunk.”
“Which led you to believe that sitting in God’s glorious country on a trunk lid will lead to illness?”
“Let me show you where it leads.”
Taking her to the Sullied Gully and showing her what her future would be might save her life.
He reached for her hand.
She reached for the kettle.
* * *
The hand reaching for her was nicely formed, the fingers long and rugged.
That did not in any way mean that she was going to allow them to touch her.
Hadn’t she learned at her aunt’s knee and by her mother’s example, that virtue, once given away, could not be regained?
“You,” she said with her fingers solidly gripping the handle of the kettle, “will not show me a single thing unless you want a matching lump on the other side of your skull.”
“What if I pay you? I’ll give you a dollar, just like any other man, for half a day of your time.”
It would take far less time than that for her to mend his shirt. But that would mean him removing it and his attitude was far too familiar as it was. Besides, her needles and thread were at the bottom of her trunk and she did not want to turn her back on him for the time it would take to fish them out.
It was becoming clear that the men of the mountains were a greater danger than the wildlife. Tom had shown a severe lack of judgment. Mike was a thief. And this man whose name she didn’t even know wanted to show her what there was about her life that was going to lead to ruin and death.
He might be delusional from the blow...or he might be insane.
She would be much better off on her own.
“Kindly