Chapter Nine
“Put on those boys’ pants you bought,” Buck ordered, rising from his log chair. “We’re going to do a little panning this morning, Shortcake.”
Her eyes widened, and she gulped down a swallow of coffee. “Now?”
“Why not? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Might as well get started learning.”
She set down the tin cup. “Yes, but—Well, I thought you were going to teach me how to shoot my rifle.”
“We’ll get around to that.” He frowned. “I thought you’d be excited.”
She stood up. “Oh, I am! I’m just kind of nervous.” She smiled, rubbing her hands together. “I’m really going to pan for gold?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You really are. Now get into those pants. I’ll be outside.” He turned to leave.
“Buck?”
He glanced back at her anxious face. “What?”
“Do I have to put on the pants?”
He sighed. “We’ve been through this once, Harmony. Now put them on. I’ll get things ready outside. This afternoon you can practice shooting your rifle while I build a sluice. Tillis’ men destroyed the one Brian built. Now quit wasting time. I have to get back to Cripple Creek before winter sets in!”
“But it’s only the first of July!”
He put his hat on. “Well then maybe you get my meaning.”
He walked out and she stared after him a moment before hurriedly removing her riding skirt. She picked up the pants, heavy, dark cotton ones, making a face at the sight of them. Deliberately she pulled them on, buttoning them and realizing she’d better get out a belt, for they were too big in the waist. There wasn’t one part of them that fit her right. They were baggy, and too long. She tightened the belt, then rolled up the legs and pulled on her boots.
She took a deep breath then. If he was going to see her in pants, it must simply be done. She marched to the door, feeling awkward and ridiculous. She felt her cheeks go crimson when she opened the door and stepped onto the wooden steps. Buck looked up from the edge of the creek where he stood, able to tell more now about the shape of her hips and legs even though the pants were too big. He suddenly ached to run his hands over the gentle curve of those hips, to touch places made more inviting by the pants. But he covered his desires with a smile, then a chuckle.
“You look absolutely ridiculous,” he told her. “Believe me, Shortcake, if you think wearing those baggy things is being too forward, think twice. You’d be more inviting in a gunny sack. Come on. Let’s get started.”
She slowly approached, her lips in a pout. “I look that terrible?”
He wanted to tell her she was beautiful. But he didn’t dare. “That terrible,” he answered. “But practical. You’ll see soon enough why you need those pants.” He looked closer into her green eyes. “Don’t tell me you care how you look to me,” he teased. “It’s not supposed to matter, remember?”
She reddened even more, and the now-familiar anger began to rise in her green eyes. “Buck Hanner, you know I don’t care how you think I look—not the way you mean!” She stuck up her chin. “I just like to wear nice clothes and look like a lady, that’s all. No lady dresses like this.”
He grinned. “That could be answered in a lot of ways. I think I’ll leave it alone. Just remember there’s not anyone here to see you except me, and I don’t care. Nor do the horses or the mules. Now get over here and sit down on this board. Put your feet up on the rocks.”
He led her to a place where he had laid a flat board over the stream. In order to sit down on the board one had to straddle the stream. She placed her feet on the rocks as he directed, and the pose was almost more than he could ignore. Never had he seen a prettier, more innocent, more tempting girl in such an inviting position, made more so by the pants rather than a skirt. He cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he took a gold pan and dug deep into the loose sand and gravel of the creek bed, scooping up a panful of dirt.
“Believe it or not, there is probably gold right here in this dirt,” he told her. He began swirling it, tipping the pan and spilling out a great deal of water, mud and small rocks.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “If there’s gold in there, you’re losing it.”
He shook his head. “Gold is very heavy, Shortcake. It settles to the bottom. All you do is keep swirling, gently spilling out all the dirt and rocks that come to the top. You keep doing that until you get down to what is called drag. Some men call it dregs. Whichever, it’s a heavy, black-looking sand, and if you look real hard, you’ll see some very obvious gold specks, and if you’re real lucky, some tiny nuggets. You’ll see a few red stones, also. Those are garnets. They’re worth keeping, although they’ll not bring you anything near what the gold will bring you.”
He kept swirling, spilling out, gently dipping the pan just enough to get a little more water into it, then swirling what was left, spilling out, and dipping for more water. For almost ten minutes he continued the procedure, until a small amount of black residue was left.
“There, see?” he told her, holding it up close to her. She looked hard, her face very close to his own, and he allowed himself the pleasure of looking more closely at her soft, peachlike cheek. He could smell her, a clean, soapy smell. He wanted to nuzzle her hair, kiss her soft cheek. She was so lost in looking at the drag that she didn’t even realize he was looking at her.
“I see some!” she said excitedly.
He tore his eyes from her face to look at the pan. “Yup. Touch the specks with your finger, Shortcake. Just let one stick to your finger, then touch it to the water in the jars beside you there. It’s heavy. It will float right to the bottom of the jar. That’s how you capture it.”
Her face was bright with delight and excitement. She touched a flake, then put it in the jar of water, watching it float to the bottom. “It really does go down!” she exclaimed.
He washed the drag a little more, and she picked out more flecks of gold, and a few garnets.
“There’s even a little silver there,” he told her. “Pick that out, too. See it?” He pointed some out, putting it on the end of his own finger. She didn’t notice the strong hands, the powerful forearms that worked the pan, the handsome face that was watching her. She saw only the pan—the gold.
“Let me try it!” she said excitedly.
He grinned and handed her the pan. She dipped it, scooping soil from the bottom of the stream, and she began to swirl it, letting just a little run off before refilling the pan with water.
“You can get rid of more than that first round,” he told her. “And don’t put too much water back in. You need just enough to work it, make it swirl lightly. Dump out more dirt next time.”
“I feel like I’m throwing away gold when I do that.”
“You won’t be. Remember, it goes to the bottom. You won’t lose any.”
She smiled. “This is fun!” She swirled more, dumped, dipped, swirled. She did it clumsily, but he let that go. He’d learned to be diplomatic with Harmony Jones. He liked being on speaking terms. He’d let her find her own way a little, then gently point out what she was still doing wrong.
“Oh, Buck, I’ll be rich!” she told him, picking out a few gold flecks after several more minutes of swirling the drag. “If I sit here every day and do this for six months or so, I’ll have a ton of gold!”
He chuckled. “Not exactly. But you’ll do well enough. Just be careful to pick out the right stuff. There’s a lot of gangue in the drag.”
“Gangue?”
“Worthless minerals. All you’re interested in is the gold and silver. The garnets are okay, but nothing to worry about.”
She dipped the pan again. “This is easy,” she bragged.
“Do it for a few hours and you’ll change your mind. You’ll be mighty sore the first few days.” He began to roll a cigarette, then sat down on the ground next to her, watching her swirl the mud and rock. “Gently,” he spoke up, “and get rid of all that junk on top.” He lit the cigarette. “Later on, after you’ve panned this way for a few weeks, you’ll want to dig down into the ground at different spots along the creek. Use the shoveled dirt to wash out in a pan. Chances are good you’ll find a lot more. And maybe—just maybe—you’ll discover a bonanza.”
“What’s that?”
He took a drag on the cigarette. “A very rich vein of gold—or silver,” he answered. “There could be one around here, but like I told you, don’t be too sure of it. You’ll work a lot faster once I build that sluice for you. I’m glad I brought a little lumber.”
“What will a sluice do? How does it work?” Harmony asked.
“It will speed you up. It’s kind of a rocker. You shovel the dirt into it, and we position it along the creek so that the water runs right through it all the time, keeping the dirt washed. You rock the dirt back and forth and it gets constantly washed away until all that’s left is the drag with the real stuff in it, just like in your pan, only on a bigger scale. You can use shovels full instead of little pans full.”
“Oh! Then build one right away!” she said excitedly, picking out more gold from her pan.
His eyebrows arched. “I intend to, but not until I smoke this cigarette.”
She laughed lightly. “You know what I mean.”
He leaned over and studied the drag in her pan. “You’ve got quite a bit in that one. Lots of color. Keep up the good work.”
“I could do this forever!” she commented, shifting slightly on the board.
Again he noticed her hips, the roundness of her bottom against the hard board, the way the pants fell around her thighs, outlining slender legs he knew must be silken. The way she sat, her knees bent, dipping the pan between her legs, her face alight with enthusiasm, he wondered if he’d ever seen such beauty, or ever wanted so badly something that he could not have. Yes, he had. Once before. Mary Beth. But she had wanted him back, and if it hadn’t been for Wade Tillis, he’d have had her for his own. Harmony, on the contrary, wanted nothing to do with men, not in that respect.
“You’ll talk differently after doing it for a couple of days. Your back and arms will regret that statement, Shortcake.”
He got up and walked to the stack of lumber he had brought, retrieving a hammer and nails. For the next few hours he pounded while she swirled dirt and water. Once or twice she glanced at him, noticing his sureness and strength, grateful for his constant help and patient instruction. Buck Hanner was a pretty good man, if there was such a thing as a good man. Of course there was. Brian had been a good man. But Buck was different. Buck made her look at him the way women looked at men who were desirable. That made her angry, not at Buck but at herself. She kept forcing back her feelings, the little urges she didn’t understand. They frightened her. Panning for gold helped tremendously. This was exciting! Real gold! All her own! She really did own this claim; and this really was her gold.
She settled in and panned right through lunch, forcing herself not to look at Buck Hanner as anything but a friend. The work helped. Soon he would be gone, and that would be even better. She’d be fine then. She’d forget him and that would be that.
Harmony stared at the blurry cards. “I don’t care if the ace is worth more than the king, or the other way around,” she complained. “I’m too tired.”
“I’m just trying to teach you a few games you can play alone, Shortcake,” Buck answered. “Believe me, you’ll need to know them, because you will get so lonely you’ll be talking to the rocks. Did you bring some books like I told you to do?”
“Yes. Can I go to sleep now?”
He took the cards from her hand. “If you had stopped panning when I told you to, you’d not be so tired now. Tomorrow you’ll practice with the rifle and not do any panning. Give your back a rest. After that I’ll be about done with the sluice. I’ll teach you how to use that, then we’ll see if you can shoot yourself some game. Then it will be about time for me to get going. Luckily Brian left quite a bit of wood. I’ll chop some more over the next couple of days, and more when I return in a couple of months.”
“A couple of months?” She met his eyes. She had grown used to his friendship, his companionship—perhaps too used to it. “I’ll kind of miss you, Buck.”
He smiled almost sadly. “I’ll kind of miss you too, Shortcake. Go on to sleep now.”
Somehow she walked to the bed and Buck tucked a blanket around her and she wasn’t afraid. The next thing she knew it was morning. Buck Hanner was making the breakfast. Two huge kettles of water were heating on the stove, and a washtub sat in the middle of the floor partially filled with water.
“Good morning,” he said when he caught her staring at him. “You can eat whenever you want, after which you can take a bath. I heated some water for you. I figured you’d like a bath again—a real one. I’m going out to finish the sluice. When you’re ready, come on out and I’ll give you some pointers with that rifle.”
She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “I have to pan for more gold. I should do it every day.”
“Yes, you should. But you did two days’ worth of work yesterday, so take today off. Do as I say. I give the orders until I’m gone, at least when it comes to how you should operate up here. I’m supposed to be teaching you, right?”
“I’m supposed to be the boss. You’re just a guide.”
“And I’m guiding you in how to pan for gold and how to survive. So do what I tell you.” He winked at her and then left.
Harmony nibbled at some bacon and drank some coffee. Then she undressed and poured the hot water into the tub, easing herself into it. He was right. Her back and neck and shoulders ached. The warm water felt good. Maybe she would take a day off from panning at that. Besides, he was nearly through with the sluice. She could use that tomorrow and catch up.
She sponged herself off, looking at her body and wondering what a man like Buck Hanner would think of it. Would he think she was pretty? Womanly? She scowled. Yes. She would miss him, but it was a good thing he would be going soon.
She finished bathing and dressed, and soon the mountainside echoed with her own rifle shots. She struggled to ignore the pleasant warmth that moved through her when Buck had put his strong arms around her to show her how to hold the gun. Everything about him was strong and sure. That was not good. It made her forget how strong and sure she had to be. She must not let someone else be strong for her. That was dangerous.
She practiced most of the day with the rifle, while Buck finished the sluice and chopped wood. The day grew warm, and he removed his shirt. She glanced sidelong at him occasionally as she reloaded her gun, catching the ripple of muscles as he chopped, the glisten of sweat on his tan skin. She still didn’t know what a man really looked like, not completely. Seeing Buck Hanner’s bare chest gave her mixed feelings. She was fascinated and frightened. She didn’t like the thought of a man’s hard muscles and bare skin against her body, yet there was a distinct animal quality about Buck Hanner that evoked desires she did not understand. There was a power about him. She felt that he knew exactly what to do with a woman, just as he knew exactly what to do about everything else. And that was all the more reason to stay clear of him. Nothing and no one must control her, nor should anything or anyone interfere with her plans to become economically independent.
The day passed quickly, and finally it became too dark to do any more shooting. Her neck and shoulders still ached, and now her arms as well, from holding the rifle. But her aim had vastly improved by the end of the day. She got up from where she sat and walked over to set up some woodchips for targets.
“I’ll practice more tomorrow,” she called out to Buck, who set aside his axe. “It’s getting too dark.”
“Agreed,” he answered. “Time for more cards, then bed.”
Their eyes held a moment before she marched past him into the cabin. She sat down at the homemade table while Buck washed at the stream. He came inside then, still shirtless. She glanced at his broad, powerful shoulders, then quickly looked away.
“I don’t feel like cards,” she told him. “I’m too tired.”
“All right. Just go to sleep then. Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to use the sluice, and maybe we’ll do a little hunting. In a couple more days I’ll have to get going, Shortcake. Be thinking about anything you might want me to bring next time I come.”
She nodded, suddenly wanting to cry. She didn’t want him to go. She was terrified of his leaving. It was like her parents abandoning her, like Brian leaving. They, too, had said they would come back. Now Buck Hanner was saying it. But would he? Probably not. No one else ever had. Buck would go, and she’d be alone…forever. She’d never even be able to find her way back, and she wouldn’t even have a horse to ride. She had to trust him to come back, or she would probably die on this mountain. Trust, how she hated the word! Leaving, she hated that word too! She swallowed back tears and went to her bed, lying down and curling up on the mattress they had fashioned out of clean blankets and feathers from the old mattress. She pulled a blanket over her shoulders.
“What’s wrong, Shortcake?” he asked. “You having second thoughts about staying up here alone?”
She sighed deeply. “No,” she finally answered.
“It’s only natural if you do,” he told her. He ran a hand through his thick, sandy hair. “Do you want me to stay longer, or do you want to go back with me? Nobody would blame you for either, Harmony.”
“I’m not going back,” she said in a tired voice. “I’m not giving up. And there’s no sense you staying any longer than necessary. I have to be alone sometime, so what’s the difference?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t want to leave you here. I suppose you know that.”
She met his eyes. “Why? I’m just another customer. You’ve left plenty of other miners up here.”
“You damned well know what I mean, Harmony Jones. They aren’t seventeen-year-old girls who know nothing about survival in the mountains.”
“You’ve taught me what I need to know. And some seventeen-year-olds are as mature as full-grown women. Anyway I’m too stubborn and unfriendly for any human or animal to get the better of me.”
He grinned a little. “You’re probably right there. But I still don’t like it. Leaving you here will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
She was tempted to tell him that letting him leave would be the hardest thing she had ever done, but she thought better of it. She didn’t want to give him ideas. There was already too much hope in his eyes when he looked at her, too much admiration, too much desire. If she had been more mature she’d have realized that all of that added up to love, but love was something she’d had little of and did not fully understand, for love also meant trust, and she had learned to never trust.
“Well, I’m just another miner like the others,” she told him. “So rest your conscience, Buck Hanner. Leaving me here is what I want and that’s that.”
“You sure about that?”
“Just as sure as I am that I want to go to sleep now.”
He sighed and stood up. “All right. I’ll see you in the morning, Shortcake.” He walked over and patted her head. “Sleep tight.”
She watched him walk out, then turned over and wept. Why, she wasn’t even sure. Perhaps it was fear. Perhaps it was loneliness. Perhaps it was even…love.
The next two days were filled with panning, shooting, chopping wood, skinning and cleaning small animals, and long talks about the perils of living in the mountains, about safety precautions. Harmony learned to work the sluice. It was exciting to see how much more earth she could filter with the sluice than with a pan. Neither of them spoke about Buck’s leaving. Neither of them wanted to think about it, each secretly wishing they did not have to part, neither fully convinced it was right to stay or to go.
Another day was spent just riding, exploring the side of the mountain on which Harmony Jones would spend many long months alone.
“Watch out for places like that, especially in the spring.” He pointed out a rocky ledge. “At that time of year a good rain can bring down a lot of soil and rocks. Everything is already softened up from the melt. Fact is, this is a dangerous spot right now.” He rode farther into some pines. “Trees will protect you some if you do get caught in a rock slide. Try to get into a stand of trees. Brian did right building that shack where he did. There’s a shelf above it and the ground goes back a way before going up again. That ledge will protect you if anything does come sliding down.” He looked back at her. “And don’t be afraid of the thunderstorms. Up here they can sound pretty scary. You’re right in the clouds sometimes and the storm is beside you rather than above you. But it’s still just thunder and lightning and rain. Stay inside till it’s over, then be sure to check right away for signs of fire. If you see any signs of it, watch the wind, Shortcake. Don’t run into the wind, because the fire will be coming right on it. Run with the wind—and I mean run. If there’s no escape, get into some water, if you can find any, or lie flat in a creek.”
He halted Indian and lit a cigarette. “Now, about bears,” he added. “You’ve got to keep your head if you see one. Do you know the difference between a regular black bear and a grizzly?”
She patted Pepper’s neck. “I think so. Grizzlies have big humps on their backs. But if one was chasing me, I wouldn’t care if it was grizzly, brown or black. I’d be scared to death!”
He grinned. “Well, never stray far from that shack without a rifle. If a bear chases you uphill, you’d better stand and shoot, and hope that if you miss, just the shot will scare it away. If it’s chasing you downhill, chances are you can outrun it. Most bears are very clumsy running down steep embankments. Remember that. You can almost always lose one that way, and if you’re headed downhill, you’re better off running than standing and shooting, because the bear will reach you too fast. A black bear will give up quicker than a grizzly. Grizzlies are more persistent. Keep fresh meat inside the shack, not outside where it can attract other animals. And if you ever see bear cubs, stay away from them, no matter how cute they look. I know how women are about soft, cuddly little things, but if you touch a bear cub, its mother will have you for supper. Remember that.”
“I’ll remember.”
“You’ll probably end up making pets out of some of the small animals. There’s no harm in leaving food for the squirrels and such. You’ll welcome their presence after you’ve been alone long enough.”
Their eyes held and she felt a rush of warmth. She looked away, turning her horse in another direction. Never had her emotions run so high or been so confused. It seemed a million thoughts and feelings were rushing through her, for although she did not want Buck Hanner to leave, she was excited about being alone here on a mountain, learning to fend for herself, facing a challenge few girls her age would even consider. She was anxious to prove to all of them at Cripple Creek that she could do this. But more important, she suddenly wanted to prove it to Buck. Deep inside she knew he would admire her more for trying this venture and for succeeding at it. If she went back now, Buck Hanner would be disappointed in her and she would be disappointed in herself. She could not live now without knowing whether she could survive, and perhaps find a mother lode and become independently wealthy.
“Maybe I’ll even have a rat for a pet,” she joked.
“Maybe,” he answered with a light laugh. “You remember how to set those traps?”
“Of course. I can shoot a Winchester and actually hit something. I can pan for gold and I can work a sluice. I can clean animals for eating and I can chop wood. I know enough to stay away from rocky hills and to remain inside when it storms, to watch for fires and run downwind of one, keeping to water. I know I should kill all the small game I can for food to preserve my canned supplies, and I know I should not leave raw meat outside, especially at night. I have plenty of bandages and whiskey and medicine, even some laudanum, in case I should be in a lot of pain. I know I must always stay calm and think rationally, that I should never leave the shack without my rifle. And I even know how to play poker against myself, and how to play solitaire and other card games.”
She turned around and looked at him. “Maybe when I go back to Cripple Creek, I’ll sit in on some card games. Maybe I’ll even gamble against Wade Tillis and win some money from him. That would be fun.”
Buck laughed. “I’d like to see that. But I wouldn’t like to see someone as nice as you sitting in a saloon gambling with men.”
“Well, I’m doing everything else like a man.”
He studied the round hips beneath the pants, as she sat straddled her saddle. The movement of Pepper made her hips sway sideways. “Maybe you live like a man, but you will never resemble a man in any other way,” he teased.
She looked back, reddening slightly, not sure if she should smile or be angry. “I think that is supposed to be a compliment. If it is, I’ll accept it. But you’d better be careful how you talk, Buck Hanner.”
He didn’t doubt that if he told her his true feelings and desires, she’d turn around and use her Winchester on him.
“I’m the most careful man ever born,” he answered.
She looked ahead again. “Is that all you ever did before this, Buck, work on ranches and herd cattle?”
“All I ever knew. Then when the railroads came in, there were fewer jobs for trail men. And I was a little tired of it anyway. I’d been working up in South Dakota. I even considered settling down. But a few things happened that changed all that, so I started wandering, ended up at Cripple Creek doing this.”
“You said once you made a point of following Wade Tillis around. He must have had something to do with you not settling in South Dakota. I know from the way you talked that day you stood up against him that he had something to do with Mary Beth. Were you going to settle down with her?”
When there was no reply she halted Pepper and turned the animal to face him. He was just staring at her, quietly smoking.
“You don’t play fair, Shortcake,” he told her. “I asked you not to bring up that subject.”
“But you know almost everything about me. You made me tell you about Jimmie.”
“That’s different.”
“Why? Aren’t we good friends now?”
He threw his cigarette stub down, dismounting to smash it with his foot, then remounting. “All right. Wade Tillis owned the ranch I worked on in South Dakota. Mary Beth was his niece. Now, are you satisfied?”
“That’s it? What happened to make you hate him?”
He pushed back his hat and sighed. “For one thing, Wade inherited the ranch from his brother. His brother was a good man, worked hard all his life. Wade was always no good. He used people, took anything he could get the easy way. He came to the ranch acting high and mighty. His sister-in-law was already dead, so he became Mary Beth’s guardian. He was suddenly a rich landowner, and everyone else was beneath him, including all the ranch hands, like myself. By the time he came to take over the ranch, I was already in love with Mary Beth Tillis, and she loved me. I’d saved like crazy, had enough money set aside to start a place of my own. We were going to get married. Then along came Wade Tillis. When he found out about our plans, he quickly put me in charge of a cattle drive, never revealing what he really had in mind.”
Buck dismounted again, walked to a rock shelf, and looked out over the valley below. “As soon as I was gone he carted Mary Beth to the nearest train station and put her on a train East, sent her to a finishing school. I wasn’t there, but I know she didn’t want to go. It must have been torture for her to be sent away like that, without being able to explain or say good-bye. When I got back she was gone, and for a long time I couldn’t even find out what school she was attending. Tillis told me I wasn’t good enough for her. The only reason I put up with his insults and stayed on was because I knew Mary Beth would come back sooner or later. Why Tillis didn’t fire me, I’ll never know, except that I think he enjoyed seeing the pain in my eyes, enjoyed lording it over me.”
He began to roll another cigarette, and Harmony dismounted, walking up to stand beside him. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Buck. I guess maybe I shouldn’t have asked.”
He looked down at her, the pain still there. Then he shrugged and lit the cigarette. “I managed to correspond with her finally, through a maid who sympathized with us. Then word came that…that Mary Beth had come down with some kind of fever.” He swallowed, smoking quietly for a moment, looking out over the valley. “Then we got the news that she had died.” He swallowed again, cleared his throat. “It was just like Fast Horse—someone I cared about being sent away, to die alone and never come back. I never saw Mary Beth again, never got to…hold her…talk to her…make her my wife. From that moment on I never hated anyone the way I hated Wade Tillis! And he knew it! He made damned sure he stayed out of my way—had me fired. I wanted revenge, but I knew there would be a better time and place to seek it. It’s pretty hard to get revenge against a man with power and money. And Mary Beth was gone, so nothing mattered anymore. I drifted off. I heard that Tillis had found gold on his property, mined it, and then sold the mine and the ranch for a tremendous amount of money. Other strikes followed and he bought more land, set up supply stores, owned a good share of the towns he occupied—and charged exorbitant prices for his goods. That’s how he got so rich. He’s a good businessman, but he never did a hard day’s work in his life. If he hadn’t inherited that first ranch, he never would have made it and probably wouldn’t be worth anything today.” He took a drag on the cigarette. “At any rate, I kept track of him, stalked him, began following him. Wherever he went, I showed up, making him nervous, reminding him of what he did to poor Mary Beth. I know it bothers him some, and I’m glad. I want him to squirm, to worry. I enjoy that. And someday the time will be right—just right. I’ll know when that day comes, and when it does, I’ll have my revenge!”
The words were spoken bitterly, almost in a hiss. His jaws flexed with repressed anger, and his eyes were watery. She felt out of place, unable to console him, guilty over bringing back memories he would rather forget.
“I’m sorry, Buck. I didn’t know it was anything that bad.” She toyed with the reins of her horse. “Sometimes I feel like that about my parents. I was only six when they abandoned me. Sometimes I wish I could do something to hurt them. I wish I could find them just so I could tell them I hate them, but they probably wouldn’t even care. It’s a terrible feeling to know somebody you love is just…gone…and that they’ll never come back.”
He looked down at her, throwing down the cigarette and stamping it out. He suddenly grasped her arms. “That’s why I don’t want to leave you here, Harmony,” he told her, his grip tight and desperate, his blue eyes suddenly pleading. “I’m afraid if I go away, I’ll come back to find you gone. I don’t want you to be gone! I want you for my own, Harmony Jones. I haven’t cared this much about a woman since Mary Beth.”
His grip frightened her, and suddenly his face came closer. His lips covered her own, searching, pressing, his strong arms pulling her close, pressing her against his hard-muscled chest. He crushed her to him, searching her mouth hungrily, pressing that strange hardness against her belly—it had frightened her so when Jimmie O’Toole had done the same thing—telling her what he would do to her. She suddenly realized that if Buck Hanner thought for one moment that she wanted him, he’d do awful things to her too.
Her heart raced with panic. Not this way! Not this soon! Not at all! She began pushing at him, but his grip was powerful. More and more it reminded her of the night Jimmie had held her wrists, pressing himself against her, kissing her against her will. She had wanted Buck Hanner to kiss her. She knew secretly that she had. Yet now it frightened her.
She twisted her face away. “Stop it!” she gasped. “What are you doing!”
“Damn you, Harmony Jones, I love you!” he said in a husky voice. “Do you know the hell it’s been being up here alone with you and never being able to hold you, touch you? Don’t you have even the smallest idea—”
“You let go of me!” she screamed. “Let go! Let go!”
She kicked his leg hard and his grip lightened enough for her to wrench herself loose. She pushed at Pepper, urging the horse a few feet away from him, and yanking her rifle from its boot, she turned it on him.
“Did you think you could get me by making me feel sorry for you first?” she raged. “You go on back to Cripple Creek, Buck Hanner! You’ve already overstayed your welcome. Now I know why you took so long in showing me everything!”
He stood there, staring at her, looking like a lost little boy. He cursed himself inwardly. What had made him do that? It was not at all the way he’d intended to approach her. He was going to be so careful, so gentle, so tender. He was going to very calmly tell her he loved her and wanted to make her his wife—to take care of her, love her, protect her.
“I’m sorry, Shortcake!” he said, total devastation in his voice. “I…I don’t know what came over me. It was just…talking about Mary Beth—”
“You just thought you’d give it one hell of a try before you left!” she yelled, tears coming to her eyes. “I knew all men were the same—just like Jimmie, pushing and grabbing and hurting! You can leave now, Buck Hanner! I don’t need you anymore!”
Their eyes held. He knew damned well she’d never shoot him…or would she? Sometimes she acted like a crazy child, at others she was a rational woman.
“I mean it, Harmony,” he spoke up. “I’m sorry. I never meant—” He turned and mounted up. “I do love you, Harmony. You think about that. You think about it real good while I’m gone. I’ll ride back now, get my things and get the mules together. You’d better bring Pepper. I’ll be taking her too. There’s still some daylight. I’ll leave today.”
He kicked Indian’s sides, charging past her at a gallop. She turned to watch him go, then put the rifle back with shaking hands. She was not shaking from fear, she realized, but from an awakened desire she’d never known she possessed. She touched her fingers to her lips, still able to taste the kiss, the sweetness of it, the power of it, the message in it. Buck Hanner was all man and could undoubtedly answer her questions about whether or not it was pleasurable to be with a man, but every time she considered finding out, she remembered Jimmie—the ugliness of his touch and the horror of his words. No. Let Buck Hanner be angry and leave. It was best.
She turned and mounted up, sure she could still smell the scent of him even though he was gone—the smell of man, fresh air, leather. She shivered with a feeling she could not even understand, feeling suddenly weak and out of control. Why did the little inner voice tell her it might be exciting to give Buck Hanner his pleasure? Why did she have this terrible curiosity about him, about being with him? Yes, the timing was right. It was good that he leave, right now. It was best.
When she got back to the cabin, he was nearly packed, tightening straps angrily, cursing when something went wrong. He said nothing to her. She realized he had said he loved her. Loved her…How could that be? Nobody loved Harmony Jones. Everyone left her. Surely he’d only told her that to have his way with her.
Her lips puckered. “Go ahead and leave!” she pouted.
“What the hell do you think I’m doing!” he grumbled.
“Good! I have to be on my own sometime. And you obviously have been here too long, Mr. Buck Hanner! You’ve shown me you’re just like all the rest! Don’t talk to me about love! Love hurts! People love you and then they leave you! I want nothing to do with love, and I don’t care to have a man tell me he loves me just so he can do bad things to me!”
He jerked at a strap, then looked up at her. “Well this man doesn’t tell any woman he loves her unless he means it!” he barked. “And I never would have done ‘bad things’ to you against your will, even though I stole a kiss, for which I apologized! If you were more woman than child you’d understand they aren’t bad things at all! They’re good things, Harmony Jones; someday you’ll understand that!” He mounted up, whirling his horse. “And I’m the one who’ll make you understand it!” He picked up the lead rope to the mules. “Now get down off that horse and get your gear off so I can leave!”
She blinked back tears, suddenly wanting to beg him to stay. But that would mean losing the present battle, and she did not like losing. She dismounted, taking off her bedroll and her rifle and canteen.
“I’ll leave the saddle on,” she announced. “It’s rented anyway, and I won’t need it.”
“Fine!” He rode his horse closer and yanked the reins from her hand. “I’ll be back in a couple of months.”
“I’ll be here!” she replied. “I’ll be rich by then, and I’ll be thinking the same way I’m thinking right now!”
Their eyes held, and he suddenly dismounted. When she backed up a little, he came closer to her anyway. “I love you, Harmony,” he said quietly. He bent closer, and she let him kiss her again, she didn’t know why. It was a quick, gentle kiss, soft, sweet, delicious. Then he simply turned and mounted again. “I’m betting you won’t feel the same at all when I come back,” he added.
He turned his horse, taking up the rope attached to the mules and to Pepper’s reins. “You be careful now!” he called out. “Remember everything I told you—everything! I’ll be back, Harmony Jones! You think I won’t be, but I will. You’ll find out you can trust me after all. And by then you’ll know you love me just as much as I love you.”
She watched him ride away, screaming inside for him to come back but making no move and saying nothing. Soon he disappeared amid a thick stand of pines, and the last mule followed.
Tears ran down her cheeks then. “Good-bye, Buck,” she said quietly.