Chapter Twenty-one
Wade Tillis did not expect Buck Hanner to boldly enter the town. He expected to be attacked from some dark alley so he kept his bodyguards with him. He hoped that he would find Buck Hanner first so he could kill him before Hanner could say anything. Then he would take his body to the authorities, saying he’d shot a gold thief, and no one would hold Wade responsible. After all, the gold that had been stolen belonged to Wade’s wife. He was bound to want Buck Hanner hanged. If he shot Hanner instead, before the man could tell his side of the story, what would it matter?
But Buck Hanner was not that careless. He’d planned well. Two days after his visit to Harmony, he appeared, dressed in his familiar cowboy garb. He walked boldly down the main street, and he was not alone. Hank, his faithful friend, was with him, and so were several other prominent men from the town, including Jack Leads and the sheriff himself. These men had long been fed up with Wade Tillis’ questionable tactics, and Buck had visited each one of them to explain what had happened and to reveal his scars. They knew the truth, and soon the whole town would know. Buck would get his revenge in the best way; he’d make sure everyone knew what Wade Tillis had done.
“Hanner’s coming right down the street, boss,” one of Tillis’ men said excitedly as he ran into the Mother Lode.
Wade looked up from the papers he was signing. He paled slightly. “Right out in the open?” he asked.
“Yes, sir! And he’s got quite a few men with him.”
Buffalo rubbed at his jaw. “I knew we should have killed him,” he muttered.
“Who’d have thought he’d survive that stinking ship!” Tillis barked. “No man lives through that.”
“Buck Hanner did,” said the man standing behind Tillis.
“Shut up!”
Already the saloon was emptying out, but people were gathering on the street, eager to see what was about to happen.
“You men stick close!” Wade ordered, rising from the table. “I own half of this town! We’ll see who wins this one!” He removed his jacket and adjusted his vest. “Let’s go out and greet Mr. Buck Hanner,” he growled.
As they exited from the saloon, Buck was approaching. Tillis slowly descended the steps to the muddy street, his eyes on Hanner, who looked at him with frightening hatred in his steady gaze. Buck was thinner, and he wore no gun. Did he expect to fight with fists? Wade wondered. If so, he didn’t have a chance. Surely he was too weak from being on that ship. He grinned.
“Well, well,” Tillis said. “If it isn’t the man who cheated Harmony Jones a couple of years ago. You looking to get yourself hanged, Hanner?”
“You’re the one who’ll hang.” Buck sneered.
“For what? For marrying the girl you swindled?” Tillis smiled. He enjoyed seeing the flicker of jealousy in Buck’s eyes. “She’s awfully pretty, Buck. I can’t imagine why you left her.” He looked around at the crowd. “You men all know what this man did. He should hang!” he shouted.
A few voices and fists went up, but the men with Buck stepped closer to him, assuming a protective stance.
“You’re the swindler, Tillis!” Buck shot back. “And I’ve come to even things up. I’ve done my share of suffering, but I survived—for Harmony, and to come back here and kill you with my bare hands!”
A rumbling went through the crowd. “Harmony is my wife now!” Tillis shouted. “I did right by that girl. You only used her and then rode off with her gold!”
When Buck began to unbutton his shirt, Tillis frowned. Was he preparing to fight?
“It’s your word against mine!” he declared, nervous now. “Everybody knows you left here with Harmony’s gold. If you want to make up some lies about where you’ve been, go ahead! But everybody here knows me! Everybody—”
He stopped short when Buck turned around, displaying his back. A low rumble went through the crowd, and even Tillis grimaced at the sight of it. Then Buck put his shirt back on, his eyes roaming the crowd as he did so.
“I took Harmony’s gold to Colorado Springs, where I could find some good men to mine her claim!” he shouted. “Wade Tillis had me shanghaied. I’ve been working as a slave on a ship that sails between China and San Francisco. On the last trip I finally managed to escape. I failed to get away another time and I was severely whipped. That’s where these scars came from!”
The murmurings of the crowd grew louder, and Hank grinned. The scars had convinced them. What better proof could Buck have of captivity than the scars?
“You’re a liar!” Wade roared.
“Am I? When I was in my hotel room in Colorado Springs I was attacked, and something was held over my face to knock me out. But I saw one face before I went under. It belonged to that big pig who protects your yellow ass—Buffalo!”
The crowd was growing restless now, as Buck stepped closer to Tillis, saying “You planned the whole thing! I left a message for Harmony with the assayer, telling her I’d be gone longer than I thought, but she never got that message! Then you moved in on her, Tillis! You convinced her I’d taken off, and you moved in—not because you love her, but because you wanted that mine!” Buck’s teeth clenched; then he hissed, “And you wanted Harmony Jones’s body. You’re lower than the ground under a snake’s belly! You should have had me killed, Tillis! You’ve just been beat at your own game!”
Buck lit into the man then, and an excited roar broke from the crowd. Some of Tillis’ men started to grab Buck, but other men pulled them back, some holding guns on them.
“This is between Buck and Tillis,” Hank told Tillis’ bodyguards. Hanner’s story made sense to the crowd. They felt he must be telling the truth. After all, what man would leave a pretty young thing like Harmony Jones? Despite the change in her, everyone still liked her. They felt sorry for her, knowing her bitterness came from losing Buck. She had loved Hanner, and many had thought Buck had loved her. One man stood in the crowd watching, holding his guitar. He was already thinking up words for the last verse of the ballad he’d made up about Buck Hanner and Harmony Jones.
Meanwhile Buck had rammed Tillis, knocking the man onto his rear. Grabbing Tillis’ shirt he landed punches on his face until Tillis locked his fists together and brought them up into Buck’s throat. The blow momentarily cut off Buck’s air and he reeled backward, gasping for breath. As he did so, Tillis kicked him in the side, then started to kick him in the head, but Buck grabbed his foot and jerked, causing Tillis to fall backward.
Buck got to his feet, feeling weak and dizzy. He wasn’t really strong enough for this, but he couldn’t bear putting it off any longer. The thought of what this man had done to Harmony, and to the love he and Harmony had once shared, made Buck so furious he kept going, somehow finding strength. He had a terrible need for revenge, and it gave him an advantage over Tillis, who was taller and, at the moment, probably stronger, considering what Buck had been through.
Buck reached down and jerked Tillis up by the vest, landing a foot into the man’s privates, then bringing a hard fist up into Tillis’ nose when he bent over. Tillis flopped backward and rolled over onto his knees, breathing deeply, while Buck stood over him, panting, fists clenched.
“Get back up, Tillis!” he growled. “You haven’t suffered enough yet! When I’m through with you, no one will recognize you! Get up so they can ride you out of town on a rail! You can’t hide now, Tillis! You can’t cover up what you’ve done! I didn’t die, Tillis! That’s where you went wrong! Buffalo was right. You should have killed me! I heard him say so that night they dragged me from my hotel room to be sold into slavery, to live in the hold of a ship with filth and rats, to eat wormy bread and drink slop!”
His eyes were wild. “Get up!” he screamed. “Tell all these people here how you kept me from your niece once because you wanted her yourself! Tell them, Tillis! Tell them about Mary Beth, the girl I was to marry until you said I wasn’t good enough for her. Then when Harmony Jones came along, you decided to kill two birds with one stone, didn’t you? You’d get rid of me and you’d take my girl—and her gold! You’re the one who should hang, Tillis! You’re the one who took the gold I had with me, and then sold me like a common slave, expecting me to die! Well, I didn’t die, Tillis!”
Buck roared the words, hatred in his voice. Tillis finally recovered somewhat. He stumbled to his feet, his face bleeding, his shirt torn. “He’s…lying!” he yelled to the crowd.
“It all makes too much sense, Tillis!” Buck shot back. “It’s too late! They’ve seen my back!”
Tillis glowered at him, then lunged. Both men went down again, rolling in the mud, punching and kicking; and the crowd cheered wildly for Buck Hanner, the hero who had returned to Cripple Creek to reclaim his girl. This fight was providing them with excitement, and with more and more of the mines played out, the town needed some. They were all tired of Wade Tillis’ control of the community. Apparently, even the sheriff had decided to quit taking bribes and to stand up for what was right, for he watched the fight carefully and then went to stand behind Buck.
For several minutes Wade and Buck slugged it out, each man holding his own for a while, both enduring far more than anyone thought they could endure. Wade had expected his men to jump in and pull Buck off. When they hadn’t he’d realized that Buck Hanner had made sure he had some support before doing this. Was there a better way to keep from being killed than to face a man down in the middle of the street and get everything out in the open?
The two men tumbled and rolled and punched, the crowd backing away, those nearest to them often picking up one or the other and throwing him back into the fight. For several more minutes the punches flew, the swings getting slower and weaker, each man now bloody.
Finally Tillis landed on his back, seemingly unconscious. Men picked him up, but he slumped back down. Buck stood over him, covered with blood, his bleeding, swollen fists still clenched. He wiped at his mouth, then looked around at the crowd.
“This man…had me shanghaied,” he repeated in panting gasps. “Then he convinced…Harmony Jones…that I’d left her…and stolen her gold. You all know…what a nice girl Harmony was…an innocent! Anybody…says anything bad about her…they’ll get what this man got!”
When Buck turned to stumble away, Tillis moaned and got to his knees. He looked up at Buffalo, and in his unreasoning fury he suddenly pulled Buffalo’s gun from its holster and aimed at Buck. Someone yelled a warning just before the gun went off, and Buck whirled. The bullet grazed his neck, knocking him down. In the next moment someone shoved a gun into Buck’s hand.
“Shoot him!” a voice said. “He’s got it coming!”
Buck looked down at the gun, then over at Tillis, who had slumped to the ground again. He held out the handgun and aimed it; then he slowly lowered it. “Shooting’s too good for him,” he muttered. “All of you know…what he deserves.”
The crowd was already in a frenzy; many of the men had grudges against Wade Tillis. They pushed Tillis’ bodyguards out of the way and began dragging the man toward a feed store, where a support beam for a pulley stuck out from the upper level. Already a rope was being thrown over the post. The sheriff made no move to stop the crowd. It would have been impossible, even if he’d wanted to prevent them from hanging Tillis. But he didn’t particularly care to.
Buck was lifted then, and carried toward the doctor’s quarters, while several of Tillis’ men hurriedly ran to their rooms above the Mother Lode and began to pack their things, afraid of the ugly crowd that was stringing up their boss at that very moment. They’d be lucky to get away with their own lives.
Buck moaned Harmony’s name as he was laid on a cot.
“Ain’t it somethin’ what that little gal done to this town?” one man muttered. “Things has been hoppin’ ever since that little thing come in here chewin’ out Wade Tillis and declarin’ she was gonna go mine that claim. She sure is somethin’. Look what she’s brought these men to.”
“You’ve heard of the power of a woman,” another man replied.
Buck felt a cool cloth being pressed to his bloodied lips.
“In this case, the power of a little girl,” someone else joked.
“Well, whatever the case, Buck ain’t in no shape to go to her now. Somebody’d better get up the hill and let the little lady know what’s happened. It’s gonna be hard on her, however she looks at it. One was the man she loved, the other was her husband. Now that her husband’s dead, I reckon the little lady is right wealthy. Everything he owned will go to her now.”
“Good,” the doctor answered. “She deserves it. Now help me get this man’s shirt off, and the rest of you get going.”
Harmony sat up in bed as Luke entered, his face drawn. He frowned at the sight of her swollen, discolored jaw. “Ma’am, you should see a doctor.”
“I don’t need one,” she answered slowly, hardly opening her mouth. “Has it…happened?”
He nodded.
Her eyes teared, and he knew immediately who she truly loved. “Buck? He’s…dead?”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am. It’s your husband that’s dead. Buck Hanner told the whole town what he did, and then he beat your husband pretty good, only Buck took a pommeling himself. Then your husband, he grabbed somebody else’s gun and tried to shoot Buck. Buck wasn’t armed and when a man handed him a gun, he wouldn’t shoot back. He told the crowd…they knew what Wade Tillis really deserved. I’m afraid the crowd was pretty ugly by then, ma’am. You know what they do to a man who steals someone else’s gold or tricks people out of what belongs to them.”
She closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks. She nodded. In spite of what he’d done to her, she could not help but feel remorse over the fate of the man who had been her husband, the man who had shared her bed. There had been some good times in the marriage, a few tender moments, but not many, though she now knew Wade Tillis had only been putting on an act. She pressed her handkerchief to her mouth. “Buck?”
“He’s in a bad way, ma’am. He’ll be laid up at the doc’s for a while.”
“I see,” Harmony said. “I’d like to be alone now, Luke.”
The man nodded and turned to leave. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said.
Sorry. A lot of people were sorry, none more sorry than she. Harmony was aware that she probably would own all of Wade Tillis’ property now, but that didn’t seem to matter. The ache in her heart would be with her for a long time. She loved Buck Hanner and she always would, but there was so much between them now. She needed time. They both needed time.
It was mid-October before Buck Hanner could leave the doctor’s office on his own two feet. In his weakened condition the beating had taken quite a toll, and he’d been further depleted by the loss of blood from his neck wound. No one had seen Harmony Jones Tillis. She had not come to town. She had not attended her husband’s funeral. She had not visited Buck Hanner. Her lawyer had gone to the house on the hill, but he’d told no one what had transpired there.
Buck did not ask for her. He knew that wouldn’t be right, not now. How could she visit the man who had brought about her husband’s hanging, despite the way Wade Tillis had treated her, and himself. He only hoped that in time they could again find what they’d had on the mountain. He still loved her, wanted her. He still dreamed of the ranch, Harmony at his side, her belly swollen with his child. His heart ached at the thought of the lost baby, and at the knowledge of what she’d suffered alone. They had both been through so much. They needed time before they could face each other again.
October was unusually hot, and fire watches were posted on the surrounding hills and mountains. It had been a dry summer. Buck saddled his horse, thinking perhaps he should just go away for a while. But he’d not go without seeing Harmony once more, no matter what anyone thought. As he headed out of town, several people watched, noticing he took the narrow road that led up to the Tillis mansion. Soon the town buzzed with excitement.
Buck had felt eyes on his back, and he was glad to get away from them. When he reached the house Wade Tillis and Harmony had occupied, he studied the sprawling veranda and the lovely gardens. Harmony Jones had accomplished a great deal since coming here. It seemed ironic that such an innocent could get involved in such a mess. He dismounted and tied his horse to a post; then he mounted the steps. His heart pounded with apprehension. What would she say? Perhaps she wouldn’t talk to him. He knocked on the door, and a maid answered. She reddened slightly as she looked at the handsome man who stood before her, sensing who he was.
“Is Mrs. Tillis in?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, sir. She’s gone.”
His heart raced with with disappointment. “Gone? Gone where?”
The woman stepped through the doorway and pointed to Pike’s Peak. “To the mountain, sir.”
Buck frowned. “The mountain? Alone?”
“Yes, sir. She refused to take a guide, said she could find her own way and that she didn’t want to be bothered.”
Buck frowned, concerned. “When? When did she go?”
“Just a few days ago, sir. We tried to stop her, but she was determined. She can be quite stubborn, you know.”
He looked up at the Peak. “How well I know,” he muttered.
“Sir?”
He looked down at her.
“She’s been real upset…since her husband’s death, you know,” the woman stated. “He hurt her pretty badly before that—hit her, I’m afraid—injured her jaw badly. She was real sad when she left, said something about not caring about the money and the property—said it didn’t matter if she died up there. I think you should go after her, sir.”
To her surprise his eyes teared. “You didn’t have to tell me to go,” he said quietly. “Do you have some supplies around here, an extra horse perhaps, that I could pack some things on? It would save me some time, and I’d prefer the people in town don’t know I’m going. Can you keep it quiet?”
The girl smiled. “Of course. Come with me. You can tell me what you’ll need.” She led him inside. “I like Miss Harmony,” the girl was saying. “She was always good to me. Some people thought she was uppity and all, but I know she was just hurting way down inside. She was always kind of like a little girl—a scared little girl, you know?”
Buck’s heart ached fiercely. “I know,” he answered. “That’s all she’s ever been.”
Harmony stretched, wondering if there was some way she could avoid going back to Cripple Creek. Her attorney could take care of the liquidation of her properties, and he could put the money into an account in her name. But she would not sell this place where she had known the only happiness she’d probably ever have. She was glad she had come here, proud that she had found the mine by herself. She had found strength here, in the little cabin that still stood on the site of the now-useless mine. The stamping mill was quiet now, but many things had changed. It hurt her to see that so many trees had been stripped away so the mill could be built. That spoiled the view she’d once had from the cabin. But the creek was still there, and the cabin had been used off and on so it was still intact. The window had been replaced. When she’d noticed that, she’d remembered the grizzly—and she’d remembered Buck Hanner’s warm, reassuring arms. He had shot the grizzly, and they had celebrated—with whiskey. Then he had made a woman of her.
How she missed him! She knew now she had always missed him…and this place. It belonged to them, to a memory, to love. Here on the mountain it didn’t matter what happened in the world below. This was a special world, and it was still beautiful, in spite of the mill. There were the green pines, the bubbling creek, and the lofty peak with its multicolored rock formations, a blue sky and puffy clouds above it.
She quickly dressed and went out, to be greeted by a sunny morning and the sound of singing birds. She picked up her rifle, realizing it was the same one Buck had taught her to fire when he’d first brought her up here. Her eyes teared, and she gently ran her fingers over the stock. Buck. He’d been so good to her, so patient. When things had gotten bad, he’d always been there to help. He’d been sweet and tender and good, but at the same time strong and sure and unafraid. When the breeze blew she caught a scent of pine, and it made her think of Buck’s rugged, fresh scent. With Buck Hanner, only with Buck Hanner, she’d been a real woman. She’d known love and desire and passion. She’d been loved by a real man. She’d felt his power, she’d succumbed to that wonderful urge to submit to his strong but gentle hands. She had known the wonderful security of strong arms, the joy of giving and receiving and being one.
She buttoned her sweater and walked down to the creek, rifle in hand, remembering all the things Buck had taught her about survival. She had enough supplies for a week, perhaps two weeks. She wished now she’d brought more. She never wanted to leave this place. Here she could feel close to Buck. She could find the real Harmony Jones again. Here there were beautiful memories. There was peace. She no longer cared for wealth or power, and oddly enough, all her hurt was gone. She didn’t even want to avenge herself on her parents. Here no one bothered her. There was no one to care whether she was rich or poor, to discuss her past or her future, and she didn’t care. In fact, she thought, it might be pleasant to die up here.
She walked to the place where the creeks met and watched the splashing trout. She thought about vengeance, how it only hurt people. She felt responsible for Jimmie’s death, and for Wade’s, as well as for Buck’s injuries. She had hurt people; she would have hurt her parents if she’d found them. She was glad now that she had not.
This was a good place for thinking, for sorting things out. It seemed odd that she could have been through so much and still be only twenty years old. She felt much older. Her life had been a tormented one ever since she’d been left on the docks of St. Louis, even before that, for her parents had never treated her well. It seemed that people had always used and abused her—all but one. Buck Hanner. Buck, she realized, had been the only truly caring person in her life, the only one she could depend on. But she’d spoiled that by being so quick to seek vengeance, by marrying Wade Tillis without knowing the real truth about Buck. She’d been so ready to believe Buck would leave her as everyone else she’d cared for had.
Perhaps it could never be the way it once was for them, but here she could be with him, in mind and heart and memory. This place was his…and hers. Here he had shot the grizzly, had taught her survival. Here he had nursed her after the grizzly attack, and she had nursed him after he’d been shot. She had actually taken a bullet out of him. That seemed to have happened such a long time ago, in another world, to another Harmony.
At least he had kissed her in the garden. Bruising as his kiss had been, surely it meant something. Someday, somehow, they would be together again. A rabbit bobbed up and perched on a rock nearby. She quietly raised the rifle and took aim. He’d make a good meal. She fired, hating to kill the innocent little animal but remembering that survival came first here. Buck would understand.
She stood up and walked over to the rabbit, picking it up and carrying it back up the hill to the cabin to skin it out. That done, she built a fire outside to roast the carcass, careful to clear away the pine needles and to encircle the fire with rocks, for everything was tinder dry. When the rabbit was roasting over the flames, she walked to the cabin steps and looked down at the maze of peaks and valleys, the miles and miles of rugged country that was Colorado.
She’d never go back to St. Louis. Maybe she’d never go back to Cripple Creek. This was a good place, her place. She was free here, free of prying eyes and whispers, of commitments, of decisions about money; free of servants and others who depended on her. And now, suddenly, she was refreshingly free of the thirst for vengeance. She felt she was a woman at last, the kind of woman Buck had wanted her to be in the first place. Now the thought of a sprawling ranch in some peaceful valley, with babies at her side, didn’t sound so bad. What more could a woman want than a good man and life in her belly? She glanced at the little grave nearby, hardly noticeable except to her own eyes.
“I love you,” she whispered. She looked out over the vast mountains then. “And I love you, Buck Hanner!” she shouted loudly, her eyes tearing. “I love you!”
Only the wind replied.
She slept peacefully, in spite of the lightning that pierced the night—there was no rain, only lightning and occasional thunder—and she awoke to a hungry stomach. She rose to put on some coffee, quickly dressing first. She had some rabbit left. She would eat it for breakfast.
She put the pot on the stove, then frowned when she heard strange popping noises in the distance. She went to the window, and high on a distant ridge she saw smoke.
“Oh, no!” she muttered. She studied if for a while. The wind was blowing in that direction, away from her mountain and the cabin. Perhaps there was no danger. She looked around the little cabin. She could not bear it if this place burned. She ran outside to get a better look at what was going on. The smoke was no closer. She watched the smoke for a long time; then she felt eyes on her. She turned to see the coyote, its yellow gaze fixed on her.
“Amber?” she said cautiously. The animal just stood there at the corner of the cabin. “Amber, is it really you?”
It watched her, not moving when she went back up the steps to get some of the rabbit and bring it out. She waved it at the coyote and it came a little closer, then took it from her and backed away a few feet. Her eyes teared. She’d always wondered what had happened to the animal, if the men had shot it. “Oh, Amber!” she said softly. It felt so good to see something from that special time, something alive that was a part of her stay on the mountain. The animal quickly ate the meat; then it sat down and just looked at her. “Amber,” she said with affection. “At least you didn’t desert me. You remembered.”
When the wind changed slightly, the breeze picked up, and Amber got up and stood, whining and sniffing the air. A few birds flew overhead, calling out loudly, and some small animals skittered past. Now Harmony could smell smoke.
She turned to see fire and smoke coming downward. There was a loud explosive sound, and the wind carried a ball of fire right over to the next ridge. She watched in wonder as that ridge was suddenly ablaze. Amber whined again and darted off.
“Amber, wait!” she called. She was panic-stricken. Would the fire come to her ridge after all? The wind seemed to be rising and it was coming from all directions now. Light smoke drifted over the cabin, high in the sky. She looked around for the coyote, but he was gone. Suddenly the animal was the most important thing in the world to her. She turned and ran around the side of the cabin, calling for him. But he made no appearance. What if he ran into the forest and got lost? What if he got caught in the fire? No! Amber!
She ran farther into the trees. There was no fire near her, but she could hear it crackling and popping, feel heat on the wind, smell smoke. “Amber!” she called again. “Come this way! Come with me!” She ran deeper into the woods. “Please, God, make him come back!” she whimpered. Why did it matter so much that she find one wild coyote? Yet she felt that if something happened to Amber, she would have lost everything. He suddenly represented all that was Harmony Jones, the Harmony Jones she wanted to be. If Amber died, it seemed to her that Buck would die too, that he would never come back into her life. She kept calling to the coyote, until she realized she’d fled far from the cabin. The wind whipped around her in a sucking motion, pulling her hair up with it. It was terribly hot.
She looked back, but the path behind her was engulfed in flames. The cabin! Was that on fire? No! This was her special place! Nothing must happen to it. She turned to look upward again for Amber, but there was no sign of the animal. She ran back down the path. She must find the cabin! She must find it, and save some of her things—the rifle Buck had taught her to shoot with, her horse and gear. She ran blindly through thick smoke, screaming as burning branches began falling nearby. The cabin! Amber! No! This was her place, her special place! She ran and stumbled, beginning to choke on the black smoke now. How could a fire move so quickly? There were explosive sounds all around her now, as huge pines suddenly burst, like bombs, into flame. Her face was quickly blackened by smoke, and salty tears made white streaks through the smudges.
Amber! Poor Amber! Why had he run off? How would he survive? She was confused and afraid, but somehow she reached the cabin. Little flames licked at the roof.
“No! No!” she screamed. “Please don’t burn!”
But in minutes the entire roof was ablaze. The rifle! She had to save that much! She ran inside, thick smoke greeting her when she opened the door. Fumbling through the smoke, she reached the rifle in the corner. It was hot, but she grasped it and made her way back to the door on her hands and knees. A piece of roofing fell in front of her and she screamed, quickly shoving it aside and scrambling for the door. She literally fell down the steps, the rifle rolling with her. Through tears of panic and sorrow, she untied her rearing horse and led him to the creek, where she fell to her knees and watched the cabin burn. For some reason she thought of the bed inside, the homemade bed with the rawhide strips for support, the bed she had shared with Buck Hanner. In it she had become a woman and had known true love.
She sat watching and crying, her body bruised and blackened. The horse reared unexpectedly, and when she lost her grip on the reins, the frightened animal bounded away.
She was alone, and all around her fire raged. She could feel its heat, but she no longer cared what happened to her. She hoped a tree would fall on her and kill her instantly. Amber was gone, her means of getting off the mountain was gone, and her little cabin was crumbling. Nearby the stamping mill was ablaze. To Harmony, the fire was an omen signifying that everything was over for her. She might as well die right here in the place she loved. She lay down on the ground beside the creek and closed her eyes.
How long she lay there, she wasn’t sure. She’d drifted from time to time for she was exhausted. Then she heard her name spoken softly.
“Harmony.” Someone turned her over and splashed cool water on her face. “Harmony, don’t die on me!”
She opened her eyes to see sky-blue ones looking down at her, broad shoulders hovering over her. “Harmony, we’ve got to get to safety!”
She stared at him. Perhaps she had died, and was in heaven. “Buck?”
“It’s all right. Everything will be all right now, Harmony. We’ll go away together and start over. We can do it.”
Tears spilled over her blackened face. Then she reached up, and in the next moment familiar, strong arms were around her, embracing her tightly. “Come with me, Harmony. Hurry.”
“Buck, the cabin—”
“It’s too late. Come on.”
He kept a powerful arm around her and quickly untied his own skittish mount, holding the reins tightly as he hurried with her along the creek, keeping to the water and leading his horse. “I know a place where we’ll be safe,” he was saying.
It didn’t matter. Buck was here. Of course he knew a place that was safe. Buck Hanner always knew what to do. Flaming branches fell around them, but she wasn’t afraid. She stumbled on blindly beside him, as he led her to the place where the waters met and pushed her into a little cove. The rocks formed an arch there, and the water rushed through it. Beneath the rocks it was cooler, and she was sheltered from falling debris. He let go of her then.
“I’m taking my horse to an archway of rock not far from here,” he told her. “You stay put.”
“No!” she screamed. “Don’t go away again!”
He touched her face. “It’s all right, Shortcake. I’ll be right back.” As he left her, she screamed his name, but her voice was lost to the rushing waters and the roaring flames. Several minutes later he was back, just as he had promised. He knelt in the little cove and pulled her close, and she embraced him gratefully.
“Buck, our cabin! We have to have the cabin!”
“We don’t have to have anything but each other,” he told her, kissing her golden hair. “We’ve never needed anything more, Harmony. Not the money or anything else.”
“Buck!” She looked up at his handsome face. “You’re really here!”
He searched her eyes. “Here to stay, if you want me.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she could taste their salt. “Want you? I’ve always wanted you, even when I thought I hated you! I…I came up here because in this place I could feel close to you. I was going to stay here forever…and never go back! I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”
He smiled that familiar, handsome smile. “Why do you think I went through all that hell to get back here? There were times when it would have been much easier to die, Harmony.” He lightly kissed her mouth. “I was so scared when I saw the fire this morning. It was heading right for your area. I about broke my neck to get here in time.”
“Buck, I didn’t know! It was so easy for me to think you’d left me—”
He put a finger to her lips. “It’s all over, Harmony. We’ve both been through hell. But it didn’t change our love. That’s all that matters.”
She sobbed. “But how can you love me now, after what I did?”
“I understand you better than you realize, Shortcake. You’ve just got to learn there comes a time when you trust someone or you don’t.” He kissed her eyes. “My God, Harmony, I could never have survived without being able to picture your face and remember you in my arms. I needed the memory of that winter up here on the mountain.”
“Oh, Buck!” She wept against his chest. How wonderful it was to be able to lean on him again, to feel his arms around her. He still loved her! He was here! Whenever she’d really needed him, he’d come.
“How about the ranch, Harmony? Will you go with me, marry me, have my babies?”
“You know I will,” she replied quickly. “I’d go with you to hell and back. Just don’t ever go away without me again—not ever!”
“I won’t. I promise.” He kissed her hair again. “God, I was so afraid I’d get here too late.”
She snuggled against him, both of them sitting in the welcome coolness of the water. “I was going to lie down and die,” she told him. “I just didn’t care anymore.”
He squeezed her tightly. “You shouldn’t have felt that way, Harmony, but it’s over now. We’ll go back and get a wagon, and load up your personal belongings, and then we’ll leave Cripple Creek. We’ll go someplace new, start a ranch.”
“But first we’ll be married,” she said, raising her face to look into his eyes and assure herself that he was really with her.
Their eyes held, and passion swept through her, the old, wonderful, passion that only Buck Hanner could elicit from her. “First we’ll be married,” he answered. “I’ll make it all up to you, Harmony. I’m so sorry about the baby.”
“It was probably better,” she answered. “But I knew, Buck. I knew when I lost it how much I’d love a baby. I want more. I’m not afraid to have children now.”
He smiled that provocative smile. “Good. Because you might be pregnant quite often, little girl. It will take me a long time to get enough of you, if I ever do.”
His lips touched hers, and the fire he brought to her veins seemed hotter than the fire that raged around them. She pressed herself against him as he leaned against a rock, his strong arms enveloping her and assuring her of love and protection. No. Buck Hanner would not leave her. Not Buck. And they would not leave this place, not truly. It would be with them forever, in their hearts and memories. No matter what happened to this mountain, it would always belong to them. The cabin was not gone. It was still standing, in their mind. They would remember it and those days on the mountain where they had learned to love.
She was lost in him now, oblivious to the light whining sound outside the arch. Amber pawed at the water, smelling her scent and knowing Harmony was inside. But she was with someone and seemed very occupied. A rabbit flashed by, and the coyote rushed off into the now smoldering woods. After all, he had a family to feed.