to him. He speaks the Apache language as well as he does the Comanche."

"It's all heathen gibberish to me!" Dolly announced. Jon grinned at

Tess, and Tess felt somewhat better. There was something very reassuring

about Jamie's abilities.

Maybe it could be proven that the Apache were no more guilty of the

attack than the Comanche.

Jon waved and rode on ahead.

"I'll take the reins for a bit now," Dolly told her. "You don't need to"

-- "I'll be bored as tears if I don't put inmy part, dear. Now hand them

over."

Tess grinned and complied.

They rode until sunset, then until the first cooling rays of the night

touched them. Jamie and Jon knew the terrain.

Again, they knew where to find water. Tess climbed from the wagon the

minute they stopped, stretching, trying to ease the discomfort in her

back. Jamie pointed out the path through the trees to the little brook,

and she started out in silence, aware that Dolly followed her. The water

moved over rock and along the earth, barely three inches of it, but she

cupped her hands into it and drank thirstily, then splashed in huge

handfuls over her face and throat, heedless that she soaked her gown.

Beside her, Dolly dipped her handkerchief in the water and soaked her

face and throat and arms with it.

"Ah, the good lord doth deliver!" she said cheerfully.

"Jamie! Come on in, the water's fine, Lieutenant!"

Tess froze, aware only then that Jamie was standing silently behind her.

Dolly her ted up her bulk.

"Guess I'll head back and see if Jon's got a cooking fire started yet."

She stepped by. Jamie knelt in Dolly's place. He doffed his hat and

untied the kerchief from his throat, then soaked it as Dolly had. He

leaned low and plunged in his whole head, then rubbed the kerchief over

his throat and shoulders. Tess stared at him, unaware that she did so.

He smiled, watching her. She jumped slightly when he touched her

cotton-clad shoulder.

"You're soaked," he told her.

"I suppose so."

He grinned, recalling memories of a different brook, a different time.

"I rather like you wet."

"You" -- "Ah, now, please, Miss. Stuart!"

She fell silent, but his smile faded and he sat on his haunches, folding

his hands idly over his knees.

"We've got to talk, Tess."

She didn't intend to blush, but color rose swiftly to her cheeks.

Damn him!

"What?" she said harshly.

"Well, I'm waiting to find out if you're going to bargain with me or

not."

She was silent, feeling her body burn. "Well?"

"You are a bastard."

"Come, come, now, Miss. Stuart, will you bargain?" She leaped to her

feet.

"Yes!" she spat at him.

"Yes-and you were right, you knew damned well that I would do so. I am

desperate. You can have anything. Anything that you want."

She swung around in what she hoped was indignant fury. She was suddenly

blinded. She nearly tripped as she started forward. She reached for a

branch to steady herself. "Miss. Stuart!"

he called to her lightly.

"Oh, for God's sake! What now?" she demanded. "Well, pardon me, but you

didn't wait to hear just what it was that I wanted."

"What?" she gasped.

"I said" -- "But, but ..."

She stared at him. He was still seated so comfortably on the ground,

casual now, idly chewing upon a long blade of grass.

"But, but, but, Miss. Stuart! Where is your mind, dear lady, but deep,

deep down in the gutter?"

He stood. Warily she backed away from him.

"Listen, Lieutenant, I'm not sure that you do shoot well enough for all

this!

What do you want now?"

She backed straight into a tree. He was right in front of her, smiling.

He stroked her cheek lightly with his knuckle and laughed softly as she

indignantly twisted her face to the side.

"Still waters do run deep, eh, Miss. Stuart? You ready to listen?"

"What" -- "Land."

"What?" she repeated, dazed.

"Land. I want some acreage. Some of your prime acreage, and maybe a few

cattle. If I'm going to go out and die for this land, I'd like to have a

bit of it in my own name."

"That's--that's what you want?"

' "That's it ."

"Land?

"Land, Miss. Stuart. I know you've heard the word." She pressed against

the tree, slipping her hands behind her to hold furtively to keep

herself from falling. Then a crimson blush surged to her cheeks again,

and she raged out in a tempest.

"You! You made me think that--oh, God! You are the lowest, most horrid,

most terrible" -- "Disappointed?" he interrupted pleasantly. She

shrieked something unintelligible and swung at him.

He caught her hand before she could strike him, but she continued to pit

herself against him. He pulled her against him, lacing his arms around

her.

"Don't be angry" -- "Angry! I could gouge out your eyes" -- "Ouch! It

would be hard as hell for me to aim at this yon Heusen of yours if you

did that."

"I could shoot off both your knee caps!"

"Then how could I get places to find out the truth?"

"All right! All right! You fight yon Heusen, then I'll gouge out your

eyes and shoot your knee caps. Now let go of me!"

"No, not yet, I'd be risking my eyesight, I'm afraid. Or my--ouch!" he

said as she stamped on his foot. Her feet were dangerous. And her knees.

"Don't even think about it!" be warned her, pressing her so close

against the tree trunk that she could barely breath.

Nor could she kick him--his thigh was pressed close to hers. Her breasts

heaved with agitation; her heart was thundering.

His lips were close. So close to hers. He was going to kiss her again,

she thought. And if he did, she'd probably let him get away with it,

despite all he had done to her. "Did you know that you have a really

beautiful mouth, Miss. Stuart?" he asked, his own nearly touching it.

"Ah! Not nearly so beautiful as my cattle!" she retorted.

He laughed softly again.

"You are disappointed."

"Don't deceive yourself, Lieutenant. I am vastly relieved."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Because you're an egotist and a scurvy rat."

"Why is it that you just beguile me so, Tess Stuart? Is it that you

taste like wine and smell of roses, even in the most god-awful heat of

the day.

Is it that fall of golden hair, or your eyes, like wild violets? No ...

it must be the tender words you're always whispering so gently to me.

Words like ... scurvy rat."

"Lieutenant, will you please" -- "I do want you."

"What?" she cried.

"Very much. But I don't want to bargain about it. When you decide to be

with me, you'll do so because you want to.

You might have to think it through and weigh all the factors, or you

might just wake up one night and come to re108 aliz~ that it's going to

be, that there's just something there. I feel it when I touch you, when

I'm near you.

"You're a fool!"

"Am I?"

He l~aned closer. H~ was going to ~ h~ aga~. "Don'tv' she cfi~ out.

H~ igno~ the wa~ing, tang h~ lips with his ~n, ~d ou~ sh~ m~bl~ a ~nd

prot, her mouth was al- ~dy pa~g to his. ~d his tongu~ was d~,. d~

within bet, and it touch~ her in pla~ it could not possibly ~ch.

She ~ ~at h~ was right, and she ha~ ~ for it, but she ~ h~ stffi, and

she wan~ h~ stffi. She t~bl~ against th~ swat sava~e~ of his touch, and

she felt the p~u~ of ~s b~y, of h~ t~ aga~st h~, of mo~ than his thigh.

H~ hands we~ in her hair, strong her fa~, rounding over the full ri~ of

her b~st, and sh~ was still bra~ against him, unabl~ to do anything

other than f~l. ~en he ~1~ her. She gas~ ragg~ly and fell back.

His lips ~ghtly bmsh~ fffst her forbid, then her ch~ks. He smile.

"Egotist, eh?"

He w~ off guard. She sl~m~ her ~ aga~st h~. She didn't qui~ hit home,

but she must have given h~ a good bm~ in the thigh. He groan~ at ~e pa~,

gritting h~ ~th, flash~g her a lethal glad.

"~ Stua~, if I didn't have ~me vague memo~ of ~- ~g a gentleman" -- "If

you have any memo~ at all, sir, it must ~ vague~"

"Miss. S~art, I should tan" -- "Do ex~ me, Lieut~ant," she ~id, at~pt~g

to s~ past h~.

"It's not that you have~'t got d~nt lips, it's just that it's ~possible

to know wh~e they've ~n befog."

"~nt lips]"

"~nt, y~," she said sw~tly, still walking. He caught h~ a~ and pull~ her

into his a~s.

"I ~uld just" -- be ~gan, but then he laughs.

"Impo~ible to 109 know where they've been before! Why, honest to God! I

do believe that you're jealous!"

"Not on your life, Lieutenant!" she protested. But he touched his lips

to hers again, sweeping her swiftly into realms she was just beginning

to discover, then righting her just as quickly and dropping his arms. He

cast his arm out, indicating the trail.

"After you, Miss. Stuart. I will always wait."

"You'll wait until you're old and gray!" she snapped. She was jealous,

she thought. Anguished. It was painful to care like this, so deeply and

so quickly.

He smiled serenely.

"Will I?"

She managed to return the smile.

"Not all women are like Miss. Eliza, Lieutenant."