hair streamed around her like the sunset, thick and cascading, falling
over her bare shoulders, curling around her breasts, haunting, teasing,
evocative.
He fell back, groaning slightly.
Tess didn't see him. She plunged into the water, amazed that she could
still draw such simple pleasure when the pain of. Joe's loss was still
so strongly with her. But she was still alive, and the water was so cool
and clean after the dust and filth of the plains. It came just to her
ankles at first, and there were little rocks and pebbles beneath her
feet, so she had to be careful walking. Then the water became deeper,
and she sank into it, stretching out, soaking her hair, floating,
shivering, delighted. The sun was still warm, the water almost cold, and
together they were marvelous. She swam around in the shallows, careful
not to hit her arms and legs on the pebbles, then found a smooth shelf
to stand on and scrubbed herself thoroughly with the soap, rising to
form rich suds, sinking beneath the surface again to rinse them away.
She scrubbed her hair, fee ring wonderful as she removed the dirt and
grime from her scalp. Finally she rose from the water. She paused,
ringing out her hair, then hut- fled to where she had left her things.
She picked up her towel and studiously rubbed herself dry, then sat upon
the ledge to dry her hair before donning her clean clothing.
She stretched, elosing her eyes and leaning against the rock, which was
still warm from the sun. The last of the dying rays touched her body,
and she elosed her eyes for a moment.
When she opened them, she nearly screamed, Lieutenant Slater was
standing above her. His shirt hung open over his chest, and he was
barefoot and grim.
She opened her mouth to protest. She was stark naked, and he was staring
down at her without the least apology. But when she opened her mouth, he
suddenly drew his gun and fired off several shots.
She'd never seen a gun move so fast or heard anything like the way the
Colt spit and fired in fury.
She didn't gasp; she didn't scream. She thought he had lost his mind,
but when she twisted to grasp her towel, she paused, stunned, staring at
the carcass of the dead moccasin that had been barely a foot away from
her.
She looked up at the lieutenant, unable to speak, unable to move. He had
saved her life, she realized. She had been completely unaware of the
snake that she had so carelessly disturbed.
He didn't say anything, just looked at her, his gray eyes sliding over
her body, and everywhere they touched her, she felt fire coursing
through her.
She felt her nipples harden, and she was horrified that they did so, but
still she didn't manage to say a word.
He slid his Colt into his hip holster and spoke at last. 'You need to be
more careful about the rocks you choose, Miss. Stuart,' he said.
She heard running footsteps. He quickly reached for her towel and handed
it to her. She clutched it to her breasts as a young private suddenly
appeared.
'Lieutenant! I heard the shots!'
