A Fortune for the Outlaw's Daughter. Lauri Robinson
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her with the desire to shake a shiver from her shoulders. “Do you always do that?” she asked. “Fulfill your duties.”
“Yes. Every man does.”
“No,” she argued, as an invisible and heavy weight filled her chest, “they don’t.”
“Why do you say that?”
Unable to hold it at bay any longer, she let the shiver go and snuggled deeper beneath her blanket before saying, “History.”
He scooted closer, pushing an arm beneath her head. Growing stiff, she turned his way, questioning such behavior.
“You’re cold,” he said. Curling his arm so her head rested on his shoulder, he pulled his blanket over so it covered both of them. “We’ll share our blankets. Maybe then we’ll both get some sleep.”
She’d shared shelters with men before, plenty of them, out of necessity, and told herself that was what this was, too. No different than sharing the cave with Smitty, or dugouts with her father and the men riding with him had been.
Inside, though, it felt different. Lucky’s chin rested on top of her head, and that, as well as his arms, was uniquely comforting. Heat was penetrating her clothing, too, from him, and she turned onto her side, snuggling her backside up against him to gather more.
Needing something to concentrate on besides his warmth and comfort, she asked, “Why do you want gold, Lucky?”
“Just ’cause I do.”
“But—”
“Go to sleep, Maddie,” he whispered. “We have a hard trail to travel tomorrow.”
“Worse than today?” she asked. Even with her head full of questions, the warmth was relaxing and her eyes wanted to close.
“Probably not,” he answered.
They both chuckled and Maddie sighed afterward, feeling herself slipping into sleep.
* * *
The trail the following day was no worse, but no better than the day before. At this height, snow covered the ground, so they made one bed that night, sharing the blankets beneath and over them, as well as their body heat. From then on, Maddie began to look forward to the nights. She was sleeping sounder than ever and waking up refreshed, ready to face whatever they encountered.
The days were more fun, too, than in the beginning. Lucky was much more jovial. They talked and laughed and planned how they’d mine gold. She told him about sluice boxes and exactly what they’d need to build one. She’d never felt more pride than when he’d said he’d build one first thing.
Going down the other side of the ridge was no easier than going up had been. The ground was rockier and the trail full of sharp pebbles and gravel rather than sand and mud. Fearful of a mule getting stone bruised, Maddie walked with caution, picking routes for the animals to step.
They’d just topped a miniature ridge when Lucky slowed his mules and waved her up beside him. She clicked her tongue, encouraging her mules to pick up their pace. Arriving at his side, she asked, “What? This doesn’t look like a good stopping place to me.” There wasn’t an iota of flat ground; besides, it wasn’t time to rest the mules, not yet.
“Look.” He pointed down the hill.
Tents and buildings along with a river appeared in the valley below as if Lucky had waved a magic wand rather than pointed.
“Home, sweet, home,” he announced.
A shiver tickled her spine. “That’s a town.”
“Yep. Bittersweet.”
“I didn’t expect a town,” she said.
Lucky started down the hill. “With any luck, darling, we’ll be sleeping in real beds tonight.”
A chill, not from the wind, seemed to start in her toes and didn’t stop tingling until it hit her head, setting a good number of thoughts into motion. The only reason Bass had taken her into towns along the trail had been to leave her there. A warning from Trig flashed through her mind, too. Don’t let him go off on his own, his uncle had said. He likes to do that.
Her gaze settled on Lucky’s back. If he thought she’d just trekked halfway across the world, tugging two stubborn mules in her wake, just to be left in town while he went out looking for gold, he had a whole other think coming. She didn’t care if she ever slept in a real bed. She would, of course, once she was rich, but until then the ground was just fine. Had been all her life and would continue to be for a while longer. She didn’t need his shoulder for a pillow, either. But she would not let him sneak away. Would not.
Hours later, for the town was much farther away than it first appeared, as it usually was when looking down upon things, Maddie had worked herself into a good, steaming fit of anger. Lucky was dang near running toward Bittersweet.
Trig had outfitted her for the excursion, including pocket money, and she was good at finding gold, but Lucky had the map. Therefore, she was trekking just as fast.
Several other sets of prospectors had left Dabbler before them. Their camps had littered the trail, but it hadn’t been until the downward trek that she’d seen how many others there were. All afternoon the trail ahead of them had been dotted with people, scurrying toward the town as quickly as she and Lucky. A glance back up the hill told her how many traveled behind them, too. All the time she’d thought it had been just the two of them in this vast wilderness, they’d just been two among many. Another thought had forced its way into her mind, too. Mad Dog. She hadn’t thought of him for weeks. That wasn’t like her. She still didn’t believe he’d follow her all this way, but others were here, and they were after the exact same thing she was. Gold. She had to get to it first.
“Let’s see if there’s a livery where we can put up the mules and then find a place for ourselves,” Lucky said. “Hopefully everything’s not full.”
“It most likely is,” she said. “With the number of folks ahead of us, I think we’d be best just to continue on.”
His grin had the effect of cactus needles on her—biting deep and leaving a sting. “Can’t hurt to check,” he said, all bright and cheerful.
Swallowing a growl, she kept her frustration out of her voice, but did tell him, “If you’re that tired we’ll just pitch our tent on the edge of town. There isn’t any reason to spend money frivolously.”
“Yes, Maddie, my girl,” Cole said, “there is.” He wanted a room—two rooms—almost more than he wanted gold. One more night of cradling Maddie in his arms might just be the death of him. He woke every morning, stiff and sore, neither from the hard ground, and desperately needed a reprieve.
If his uncle had been anywhere at hand, he’d have belly punched him. Putting a man in this type of predicament was flat-out evil.
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