Judith French - Morgan's Woman

"No." She laughed. Then he whispered something so wicked in her ear that she gave him a small shove. "Ash Morgan! Wherever did you…"

He dropped the bird and swung her up into his arms. "Best try it before you complain," he said. He kissed her again, and this time she forgot everything but the sweet sensation of his lips against hers, and her naked breasts pressed so tightly against him that she could feel the beating of his heart.

It was dark before they shared the partridge and the rest of the meal. Then, when they couldn't eat another bite, they swam again in the mineral pool to wash off the sticky remains of crushed strawberries. Afterward, as they dried off, Ash doused the fire.

"By daylight, it's safe," he explained. "Any hostiles who saw the smoke would assume it was steam from the hot springs. But in the dark, the flames will show a long way. I'm sure that Buffalo Horn's friends have given up on us and returned to their camp, but they aren't the only hostiles in these mountains. There's no sense in taking unnecessary chances."

I can't understand you, Tamsin wanted to say. You insist you want to protect me from the Indians, but you're willing to turn me over to a crooked sheriff and a murdering judge.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Tonight, she'd have to make her move. Somehow, she'd escape Ash. She couldn't go back toward the Cheyenne, so she'd have to backtrack, ride near Sweetwater, and take another route. She might even have to go north and join one of the wagon trains moving west.

"Ready for bed?" he asked her as he kicked dirt over the coals.

"Ready for sleep. I think I could-"

Without warning, Ash's hand closed around her arm. "Good. Then you won't mind if I take a few simple precautions to make sure you don't do to me what you've done before."

"What? Let go of me!" she protested as Ash brought her wrists together at her waist and tied them tightly with a length of rawhide.

"No! You can't!" Fury boiled up inside her, and she kicked at his shins. "I won't let you!"

Dancer stamped his feet and snorted in alarm. Another of the animals whinnied nervously.

"Darlin', this hurts me worse than it hurts you," Ash said.

"You don't trust me." Trembling with anger, she sucked in ragged gulps of breath.

He laughed. "Should I?" With one motion, he knocked her legs out from under her, caught her before she hit the ground, and pinned her feet.

"No! No! You can't do this to me!"

Ash wrapped another cord around her ankles. "I just want to make certain you're here to eat the breakfast I'm going to cook for you in the morning."

"Damn you! You tricked me!" Tears of anger ran down her cheeks. "You made love to me while all the time you-"

A ferocious roar ripped through Tamsin's protest. From the corner of her eye, she saw a green-eyed shadow lunge out of the trees. "Cougar!" she screamed at Ash. "Cougar!"

Ash leapt for his gun. Tamsin couldn't see him, but she knew that's what he was doing. He wouldn't leave her. Unarmed, he stood no chance against the slashing claws and teeth of an enraged cougar. Bound and helpless, she couldn't fight back. She couldn't even run.

If he didn't get to his weapon, they were finished.

Strangely, in the split second it took to recognize the mountain lion's roar and realize that the cat was attacking them, Tamsin's fear burned away, leaving her with the taste of Ash's mouth and his clean scent imprinted on her mind. Ash, she thought. Oh, Ash, I do love you.

Cool certainty and the knowledge that she was about to die settled over her with the calm of an evening mist. It seemed to her that the horses' terrified whinnies and the puma's scream faded until all she could hear was the rustle of wind through the trees and the gurgle of the spring.

The puma snarled again, so close that Tamsin was sure she could feel the beast's hot, fetid breath. Then two gunshots blasted.

"Ash! "The sound of racing blood hammered in her ears.

"It's all right." Ash's face loomed over her. "It's dead."

Blackness threatened to smother her. A faint buzzing started in her head and grew louder and louder.

"Tamsin? Tamsin? Speak to me, damn it!" Ash seized her shoulders and shook her. "You don't have to be afraid. The cat's dead."

She heard the hiss of his knife slide out of his sheath; then the leather ties binding her fell away. Ash gathered her in his arms and rocked her, whispering her name over and over.

Gradually, the humming receded. "Ash?" she murmured. A sweet sickly smell seemed to surround her. She knew what it was. Blood.

"It's a female," Ash said. "Big. She must go two hundred and twenty pounds."

"A real cat? Flesh and bone? Not a ghost?"

"As real as I am. The one I killed before must have been her offspring. Pumas don't hunt with another animal unless it's a mother and her young."

"It's dead? Really?"

"Yes," he answered softly. "It's over. I'm sorry, Tamsin. So damned sorry."

"You should be." She pushed free and cautiously approached the dead animal. "How could anything so magnificent be so terrible? Did she hate us… like the Cheyenne? Did she track us all this while out of-"

"Not hate, darlin'." He pulled her away from the cat. "She turned outlaw, a man killer."

"Like Jack Cannon."

Ash nodded. "Maybe, but that's not a wild animal's nature. Men prey on others for money, but a mountain lion's needs are simpler. All a cat wants is to be left alone, to hunt, to mate, to raise their cubs in peace. Usually, a puma keeps as far from a human as possible. Something went wrong inside this one, something that twisted her."

"Grief for her offspring?" Tamsin suggested.

He shrugged. "It's not something we'll ever know."

"But to trail us so far… I don't understand."

"Not so much distance the way a lion hunts. This one's hunting territory could easily cover a hundred miles."

"She wasn't so different from the Cheyenne, was she? So long as we stayed away and left her alone."

"Maybe, maybe it's the way things happen. Nothing stays the same, Tamsin. Not Tennessee, not Texas, and not Colorado. One of these days the wild Cheyenne and the mountain lions will be gone. It will make life easier for some folks, but something special will go out of these mountains with them."

"And the desperadoes? Will they be gone as well?"

"No," he replied huskily. "They'll just change then-hats and wear fancier clothes. Believe me, Tamsin, as long as there are people, the outlaws will be with us."

At dawn, they rode southeast, entering more-civilized country. Tamsin was torn, waiting for a chance to escape, but not wanting to leave the man she'd come to cherish more than her own life.

The canyon widened, and Tamsin guided Fancy close to Ash's gelding. Ash had rolled up his hunting shirt and tied it behind his saddle.

He'd told her he didn't want to be mistaken for a hostile and shot by one of his own kind. With his long, dark hair and sun-bronzed skin, she wondered that anyone would recognize him as a white man.

The buckskins he'd found in Jacob's cabin suited him as well as his long coat and neatly tailored vest and trousers, she decided. Ash Morgan had an unpredictable streak that marked him as a mustang. It could be that no woman would ever bridle his temper or train him to a tame way of life.

"We don't have to do it this way," she said to him. "You could forget the bounty on my head and come to California with me."

Ash didn't answer for several minutes, then stroked his stubbled chin. "It's a fair offer, Tamsin. I've never been that far west, and I've always had a hankering to see the sun set over that rolling blue ocean."

Her heart pitched into the pit of her stomach. "But you won't, will you?" Stubborn. He was as stubborn as a Missouri mule. "Does the reward mean that much to you?"