Beartooth Incident

danger if it can be helped.”

Fargo drummed his fingers on the chair. That changed things. He’d figured to let the Sten gang ride in and, when they were nice and comfortable, catch them off guard. But now she only left him one choice. “I’ll ride out to meet them before they get here.”

“Just you against Cud and all his men?”

“It’s the only way to keep the kids out of it.”

“I’m sorry. I’m making things harder for you, aren’t I? We can do it some other way.”

“That’s the thing,” Fargo said. There was no other way that would ensure that the kids were out of danger. Even at that, he couldn’t guarantee it would turn out as he planned. He mentioned as much.

“I understand, and I thank you for being so honest with me. You have some fine qualities about you, Mr. Fargo. Offering to help us and not expecting anything in return.”

“I never said that.” Fargo roamed his eyes over her body in a manner that left no doubt what he was thinking.

“Oh, my.” Mary coughed. “You come right out with it, don’t you?”

“A man never gets a woman to part her legs by being shy.”

“Is that all it would be to you? A bout of animal lust? Another poke to add to your tally?”

“For me it would be all there is that counts in this life.” Fargo grinned. “Fine whiskey comes close.”

Despite herself, Mary returned the grin. “You are a silver-tongued devil, I’ll give you that. But I need you to understand. It won’t be easy for me. I’ve never done anything like this in all my life.”

“I’m not forcing you.” Fargo wanted that clear.

“Oh, I know. I’m a fish, and you’re holding out a worm and leaving it to me to decide whether I take the bait or not.”

“No. You’re a woman who hasn’t been with a man in a year, and I’m a man who likes women.”

“That’s all there is? Our feelings don’t enter into it?”

“That’s up to you.”

Mary didn’t seem to hear him. “I mean, yes, I’m a woman. And to a woman, feelings are important. We don’t just do it. Well, maybe some women do, for money, mostly, but I’ve never done that, and I never will. I’m not that kind of woman. I don’t have it in me.”

“All you have to say is no.”

His voice seemed to startle her. She glanced up and then quickly looked away. “I didn’t say that. I’m only making clear how hard something like this is for someone who only ever gave herself to one man her whole life. Can you appreciate that? What it’s like for me?”

Fargo nodded. “You’re trying to decide whether you want to let down your hair for an hour or keep bottling it up.”

Mary was spared having to reply by Jayce, who came skipping over to announce that he had beaten his sister at dominoes.

“That’s nice, son, but you shouldn’t gloat. Be as courteous when you win as you are when you lose.”

“When I lose I’m grumpy.”

Mary tousled his hair and pecked him on the cheek. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you keep our guest company while I fix supper? And tonight when I tuck you in, I have a special surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?”

Mary stood and patted his head and moved toward the counter.

“Ever notice, Mr. Fargo, how girls talk your ears off except when you want them to say something?”

“Learned that already, have you?” Fargo chuckled. “It’s one of the three great lessons of life.”

“What are the other two?”

“Always fold when the other player asks for one card and then wets himself raising.”

“I don’t get that. What’s the other lesson?”

“Never try to talk a dove out of her price. She’ll take it as an insult and only pretend she likes it.”

Jayce scratched his head. “Gosh. I don’t get that one, either. Where did you learn these lessons?”

“I learned the one about folding in St. Louis. I stayed in and lost nearly every cent I had to a full house.”

“I don’t know what that is. And the bird?”

“The bird?” Fargo repeated, and snorted. “No, not that kind of dove. The doves I’m talking about don’t have feathers.”

“Naked birds? They have such a thing?”

“Did your pa ever have a special talk with you?”

“We had a lot of talks. About farming and hunting and fishing and the stars and how frogs are tadpoles before they’re frogs and why some caterpillars change into butterflies and how come people snore.”

“The talk I’m thinking of was about where babies come from. Or maybe it was calves and foals.”

Jayce brightened. “We had that talk, too. Pa sat me down one day and got all serious and said he was going to tell me how Nelly and me came into the world.”

“What did he say?”

“The stork brought us.”

“Go away.”

“What?”

“Go play with your sister.”

“Why? What did I do? Don’t you like storks?”

“I want to take a nap before we eat.” Fargo was feeling tired from the long ride. He wasn’t quite himself yet.

“Oh. Sure.” Jayce took a step, then stopped. “I miss my pa. I miss our talks. You remind me of him a little. And I thank you for the lessons, even if they didn’t make any kind of sense.”

“Your mother wouldn’t happen to have a whiskey bottle hidden around here somewhere, would she?”

“Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”

10

The children were asleep and their door was closed. Flames crackled in the stone hearth. Outside, the night wind shrieked down off the mountains and on across the valley. Wolves tried to compete and couldn’t.

Fargo sat in a chair facing the fireplace. His eyes were closed, his chin bobbed. He was tired and ready for bed. It had been a long day. He’d held up well, but it would be a few days yet before he recovered enough from his wounds to be his old self. A noise made him turn his head. It came from the bedroom he was using: Mary’s bedroom. She had excused herself a while ago and gone in. She didn’t say why. He figured she was getting ready for bed.

Supper had consisted of another chicken and fresh bread. Fargo had taken small portions and didn’t ask for seconds so there was enough for all of them. The kids had been too busy stuffing their faces to notice. If Mary did, she didn’t say anything.

Fargo stared into the dancing flames. He needed a good night’s sleep so he could get an early start. He had a plan—a crazy plan as Mary called it—but if it worked, she and the kids would be free to go wherever their hearts desired, and be free of the claws of Cud Sten, as well.

Another noise from the bedroom caused Fargo to turn, and for a few seconds he was breathless with desire. Then he caught himself and quietly asked, “You did all that for me?”

Mary Harper had changed into a nightgown. Where many gowns were loose-fitting and bulky, this was tight and scandalously sheer. It was bright red, matching the red of her cheeks. She had brushed her hair and done things with her face so that she appeared as fresh as a new-bloomed daisy. Nervously clasping her hands in front of her, she said demurely, “Frank got this for me so I could treat him now and then, as he put it.”

Fargo’s estimation of the man rose considerably.

“I know I don’t look like much but it’s the very best thing I own.”

“Come here,” Fargo huskily requested.