not the other way around? I'd think you'd need more saddle under you to ride him.'
'I don't ride him much,' she said. 'Dancer's full of surprises.'
'If you'd had him properly broken, he wouldn't be so damn flighty.'
'The Texas saddle seemed more practical for such a long journey,' Tamsin continued. She approached the stallion carefully, crooning softly to him.
The animal squealed and shied away, but she kept talking and moving closer. Finally, she was able to grab his halter and snub him to a tree. Ash kept watch as Tamsin secured her packs and tied them to Dancer's saddle. 'All done except for your bags and bedroll,' she said. She undid a strap on a leather pouch and adjusted the contents.
'It will just take me a minute,' Ash answered. He switched his rifle to his left hand and reached for his blanket with his right.
'Stop there!' Tamsin said. 'Drop your gun.'
'What-' He spun toward her, then froze in his tracks when he saw the big Navy Colt in her hands. 'I said drop the rifle.'
'You won't shoot me.'
She squeezed the trigger, and a bullet whizzed past his left ear and thudded into a tree behind him. 'I mean it,' she warned. 'I don't want to hurt you, Ash, but I'm not going back to face that judge.'
Ash was certain he could get at least one shot off, but the bullet would tear a hole in Tamsin a man could throw a steer through. His muscles coiled, but he couldn't do it. He didn't want to kill her. He dropped the rifle onto the stony ground.
'Shall I turn around?' he demanded. 'Would you rather take aim at my back than look me in the eye and shoot?'
'I'm a good shot, Ash. I could have put that lead between your eyes if I'd wanted to. Step back.'
He swore an oath that would melt leather, but he did as she ordered.
'Now draw your gun with two fingers. Don't make me kill you, Ash.'
He watched her eyes, saw the moisture pool in them, read the determination there.
'You won't get away. Murder me, and more men will come after you. California isn't far enough to run, Tamsin.'
She kicked his rifle away. 'Do as I say.' Her voice cracked, but her hands held the Colt steady. 'Throw your revolver into the creek.'
'There are hostiles on the move. That strawberry hair of yours will end up on some young buck's scalp belt. And if the Indians or the cougar don't get you, you'll lose your way in the mountains and starve.'
'The pistol. Toss it.'
White hot fury boiled in his gut. 'Damn you-'
She fired a second time, sending gravel flying from a spot beside his left boot. 'No more warnings, Ash. Next time, I shoot you. I'll start with your knee.'
Still cursing, he flung the pistol into the water.
'Good. You follow it. Take off your boots and wade into the water.'
'You'd better kill me. I'll hunt you down for this,' he swore.
'Move.' She picked up his rifle.
War-et growled and moved to Tamsin's feet.
Ash's chest felt constricted; his breathing came in deep shuddering gasps. His skin stretched taut across his temple, and his head pounded. It took every ounce of his will to keep from rushing her, ripping that Colt out of her hands, and strangling her. How could he have been so damned stupid?
The cold water rose to his waist, shocking him, making his thinking clear and precise.
'I'm sorry,' she called as she swung up into Shiloh's saddle. 'I really like you, Ash Morgan. I just don't like you enough to die for.'
Chapter 11
Tamsin struggled all day, often having to dismount and lead the horses through rockfalls and tangles of thick- growth pine. Again and again, she found the way impassable and had to retreat to try another pass through the mountains. By dusk, she was utterly lost, not certain that she'd traveled more than a few miles from where she'd left Ash and the mountain lion.
She hadn't been able to lose the black dog. At first, she'd tried to chase the animal away. But War-et hadn't obeyed; he'd just kept following. Now that the light was fading, however, she was glad of his company.
Hungry, muscles aching, Tamsin crouched in the shelter of an overhanging rock face. Her two horses she unsaddled and turned loose to graze, but she didn't let Shiloh off his rope for fear that he would wander away.
She'd quenched her thirst and filled her canteen from a spring in the canyon wall two hours earlier. Now she wished that she'd made camp there. She had nothing left to eat but dry venison and nothing with which to wash it down.
'A fine fix,' she muttered to War-et as she fed him pieces of her supper. He whined and crept closer to her.
Even her campfire was a pitiful effort. She'd dragged a rotting log into the front of the shallow cave and started a small fire beside it. The wood was too damp to burn without smoking, and she'd waited too long to gather additional fuel.
'It's going to be a long night,' she said wearily.
Guilt over what she'd done to Ash had ridden beside her all day, pricking her conscience and making her wonder if she shouldn't have done what he wanted and gone back to be tried by a court of law.
California and a new life far from a Tennessee torn by war and bad memories seemed an impossible goal. A single tear trickled down her left cheek.
Then something damp and scratchy brushed Tamsin's hand. She looked down to see War-et's homely face. 'You stupid dog,' she whispered. 'You're as lost as I am.' But she stroked his ragged head and made no protest when he wiggled into her lap.
'You've probably got fleas.' The dog licked her chin and wagged his curly tail enthusiastically. 'One vermin bite and you're out on your ear,' she warned as she hugged him close.
Tamsin's eyelids grew heavy. The flickering flame was hypnotizing, and she felt herself nodding off.
Her dreams were a shadowy turmoil of nightmare and memories as she relived Ash Morgan's kisses and the surreal terror of the stalking cougar. Sweat poured from her body. War-et's warning bark became a puma's snarl. Tamsin broke free of Ash and tried to run, but her feet seemed frozen to the ground. When she looked back, Ash's features had hardened to a grotesque mask.
'No!' Tamsin's eyes widened. Suddenly the figure looming just beyond the fire wasn't Ash's but the form of a painted Indian.
The brave shrieked a war cry and leaped over the burning log brandishing a spiked club. Still dazed, Tamsin raised her pistol and fired point-blank. The warrior fell back into the flames as Tamsin scrambled to her feet.
The stench of burning cloth and hair filled her nostrils as she fled toward the spot where she'd left Shiloh tied.
The horse was gone.
Heart in her throat, she dashed headlong into the woods, heedless of the branches striking her head and the vines tangling her legs. She'd not gone twenty feet when another howling Indian crashed through the undergrowth and blocked her way.
Tamsin stopped in her tracks as a dark shadow raced past her and lunged at the brave nearly hidden in the trees. She couldn't see well enough to tell man from dog, but she could hear the thud that changed War-et's snarls to agonized whimpers.
Sickened, Tamsin ran back toward the fire, nearly colliding with Dancer's charging fury. The stallion's shoulder struck her a glancing blow as he pounded past with teeth bared and ears laid flat against his head. She spun through the air and landed in a tangle of brush as the squealing stallion reared and lashed out with his front
