Deep Trouble (7 page)

“No, we can’t.” Gabe shifted as though he was irritated. “The horse is carrying a double load.”

Shannon was riding behind Gabe, holding on with strength born in fear. She’d never done much riding in St. Louis since her family had a carriage. She’d thought she was learning the way of it, though they’d come a long way on the train before turning to horseback. But this wasn’t exactly riding. It was more clinging for dear life. And clinging to a strong, warm man, who shifted his weight and turned to look at her once in a while.

She found holding Gabe very disturbing. Nothing like hanging on tight to the cold, solid saddle horn. She wanted it to be over badly. “He seems like a big strong horse. How far did you say it is to town?”

“We’re gonna push hard all day, and we’ll spend the night with a family of Navajos who run a herd of sheep and have a small settlement near a waterhole. I spent the night there just yesterday.” There was an extended moment of silence. “No, two days ago.”

Gabe shrugged, and Shannon clung.

“As for a town, Tuba City is to the east. To the west, well, I’ve never been all that far west of here, not this far north. I’ll ask Doba Kinlichee.”

“Doba what?”

“That’s the father of the family of Navajos. Doba Kinlichee. They’re the first place east of here I know of. I was coming from that direction because I’ve been out to see my brother in California, so I stayed with them.”

“I thought you said you’d never been west.” Shannon bristled. He was making excuses not to help her.

“I’ve never been straight west. There’s nothing that way because of the Grand Canyon. I came from the southwest.” Gabe twisted around to look at her. “Is that where you want to go?” He sounded almost like he’d consider coming with her if that was her goal.

Shannon saw no sense in burdening him with the truth. “I’d have to check my map.”

“I was heading to see another brother in New Mexico. My oldest brother, Abe. He’s got kids almost grown. It’s a long ride to the waterhole where Doba lives with his wife and kids. Doba’s mother and some aunts and uncles are there, too. Lots of family. It’s a welcoming place.”

“They live alone a long day’s ride from the nearest city?”

“Their family has lived around this waterhole in the high desert since long before there were any cities.”

“And they’re Navajo? Indians? Are they dangerous?” She clung a little tighter to him. It was no hardship.

“They’re good people. Friendly to me. I don’t know ‘em except for the night I stayed there, but I trust ‘em.”

“What will they think of us riding in like this—together and unmarried.”

“I think it will be fine unless Hank Ford is there.”

“He’s the judgmental type?”

“It’s kind of his job.”

“To call people to task as sinners?”

“He’s Parson Ford, a missionary to the Navajo. There is a parson who lives at the settlement with his family, and they’re kind, friendly people. But Parson Ford is… well… he’s big into fire and brimstone, or so Doba said.”

“A little fire and brimstone never hurt anyone.” Shannon had heard a few revival preachers, and she enjoyed them.

“Hearing about it, sure. But honestly, Shannon, a little fire and brimstone never hurt anyone? I don’t think you can say that.”

“True.”

“Parson Crenshaw does live at the settlement with Doba and his kin, but Parson Ford is a traveling missionary. He’s gone for long stretches of time. Doba talked about the parson like he was one to set the devil running for cover.”

“I wish he’d been with me yesterday when my expedition members left me to die alone. The devil was in that.”

“From what I heard, Parson Ford would have terrified them until they ran away.”

Shannon thought of the way Lobo had dangled her over the ledge, the ruthless way Ginger had shoved her and enjoyed hurting her, the way the Lloyd brothers had gone down that ladder without a thought of the fate they were leaving Shannon to, and the cold in Lurene’s eyes—the one member of her party she’d felt a friendship with. The good parson would have had his work cut out for him.

As the day stretched longer, Gabe’s temper shortened.

The horse sidled around a jumble of rocks in the barely existent trail.

Shannon gasped and grabbed a tighter hold on Gabe.

“Stop it.”

Leaning forward, hanging on tight, Shannon poked her head around Gabe’s broad shoulder. “Stop what?”

“You’re strangling me.”

Shannon thought that over for a second. “You’re a good one to talk. You didn’t spend a part of yesterday swinging from a noose.”

“It wasn’t a noose.”

“I was the one swinging. It felt like a noose.”

Gabe growled.

“Hey, it was my belly. I’ll judge if I got hanged… hung… anyway, it was a noose.”

“It doesn’t count as a
hanging
if it’s around your belly.”

“Does, too.”

“Does not.”

“And anyway, what does that have to do with me being afraid of falling off the horse and hanging on tight to
your
belly?”

Gabe growled.

“That’s no answer.”

“Shut up and ride, woman.”

“You know, some things about you are very heroic, Gabe.”

“Well, thank you.” Gabe turned to meet her eyes, a bit less crotchety—for a second.

“And some things, not so much.”

Gabe growled.

The sun glared down, but they had stretches of shade when they’d ride through thick stands of pine. They passed barren stretches with beautiful red rock rearing up out of the ground, and Shannon saw trails wind up into higher ground, dotted with quaking aspens.

Gabe didn’t head for the high ground. He unhooked his canteen from his saddle horn and handed it back to her without turning. “Drink light.” The man grew increasingly gruff and taciturn as the day wore on.

Shannon’s thirst started to gnaw. She wanted to take long gulps out of the canteen but knew she didn’t dare. “Can’t we ride up there and search for water where those aspen grow?” She pointed at what looked like a fairly lush spot on the mountain they were riding past.

“No.”

She felt lucky for that grunted answer. “Why not?”

“Done with that canteen?”

Fighting the urge to drain the water, Shannon took a sip so small it barely wet her throat then handed it back. She noticed, as best she could from behind him, that Gabe drank little more than she did. She squeezed him to get his attention. “Why not? Those trees can’t grow without water can they?”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Holding on so tight.”

Shannon frowned at his back. “I really don’t feel all that safe back here. I need to hang on.”

There was a long moment of tense silence. Shannon loosened her hold, but still she was riding on a tall horse. She needed
something
to hang on to. Besides, he hadn’t answered her question.

“So why can’t we hunt water?”

“I don’t want to climb a mountain and spend an hour searching for water we can do without. We’re already going to be getting to Doba’s late in the day.”

“That makes sense. Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”

Since she was hanging on, she thought she actually heard his insides growl as if he were a wolf getting ready to pounce.

“Say something.” She jostled him a bit with her arms to get him to answer.

“Time for a break.” Gabe rode his horse toward a mountain that was rising up on their left. A clump of aspens offered a bit of shade.

“Hang on to the cantle.”

“What’s that?”

“The back edge of the saddle that you’re sitting so close to. Too close to. Right up against. Hard up against.”

Shannon let go of him with one arm and touched the back of the saddle seat. “Cantle. Okay.” She brushed her hand against Gabe when she gripped it. There was really no avoiding the contact.

“I’ll get off first.” Gabe almost threw himself off the horse and practically kicked her in the head… bad enough with his boot, but the spurs would’ve really hurt. Then he turned and dragged her down. Holding her waist in his hands, when her toes finally touched the ground, she expected, considering his mood, for him to plunk her down and stalk away grumbling. Instead, he held on. “You really want to know why I’m not talking to you?”

“Yes, I really do.” She suspected suddenly, based on the fire in his eyes, that no, she really didn’t.

Their gazes met as he forgot to let go. His strong hands flexed at her waist, and Shannon got the impression that there was something deep in Gabe’s eyes that she needed to see. Had to see. She inched closer.

He was still in his state of forgetfulness apparently.

They stood, Gabe looking as hard at her as she was at him, and suddenly, slowly, as if he wasn’t even trying to stop himself, Gabe very deliberately leaned forward.

“This is why,” he spoke against her lips, and then he kissed her.

It felt right to slide her arms up his broad chest and wrap them around his neck. She’d been holding him all morning. He was familiar and heroic and kind—except for the one-word answers and the grunting.

The kiss ended long before she was ready. Gabe eased back just inches. “All your talk last night of what’s proper?”

Shannon vaguely remembered that… while she lay awake alone in that cold, definitely-not-haunted-but-only-because-there-was-no-such-thing-as-ghosts cave. “Yes.”

“This is why we shouldn’t be alone together for long stretches of time.” He kissed her again, and her toes weren’t even touching the ground. Gabe was holding on tight, but for a fact, she felt like she was floating and it had nothing to do with his grip and everything to do with his lips.

“Does this happen
every
time a man and woman are not chaperoned?” In truth she’d never had such happen to her before. But then she’d never spent any real time in the company of a man, and certainly not alone. Not even with poor Bucky, whom her mother was determined she marry.

“Not every time. But it can. Especially when a woman is as beautiful as you.” He lowered his head again and tightened his arms, and Shannon was lost.

What time passed, passed without notice. Finally, Gabe pulled away and reached up to unfasten her arms from his neck. “We’ve had a long enough break. We have to go on to the Kinlichee hogan.”

“Now?”

“Oh yes. Right now. Right this very instant before things get out of hand and I end up hunting down Parson Ford.

“The one you said might insist we get… married?”

“Yep, that’s the one.” He rested his forehead against hers, and she wanted another kiss, just one more. One more moment that was not at all proper.

She sneaked and got herself one. And Gabe sneaked, too. A couple of times.

“What would you hunt him up for?” Just because her thoughts had gone to one idea didn’t mean his had.

“To do some… insisting of my own.”

G
abe pushed his poor gelding as hard as he dared. But he couldn’t run away from himself.

Shannon kept a snug hold on his waist all afternoon, and that meant he couldn’t run away from her either.

He knew, in the most reasonable part of his mind, that he couldn’t be falling in love with Shannon. Just because her arms around him made him light-headed with pleasure, and he wanted to kiss her senseless, and he felt an almost uncontrollable need to protect her, and he kept picturing her standing in front of the potbellied stove in his house back in Wyoming, and he wanted to take her to meet his brothers, and he could imagine what their children might look like. Just because of that, it did
not
mean he was falling in love with her.

A man couldn’t fall in love with a woman he barely knew. Add to that, he’d never been around many women. Really only Annette back in Wyoming. And seeing as how she was married to another man, that hadn’t worked out all that well.

What with a house full of brothers and a cavalry full of soldiers, there’d been no women to tempt him. He might well fall in love with any woman he ever spent ten minutes with. How could he know?

Add to that, a lot of what he did know about this particular woman wasn’t reassuring. She was bent on hunting all over the western lands for gold, of all stupid, hard-to-find things. Most gold hunters would make more money driving a stagecoach. Work less, too. And sure as shootin’ live better.

Even worse than digging for gold, she had some half-witted notion that she’d find a city built out of the stuff. And she hadn’t even shown him the map. If he agreed to ride along with her, he didn’t even know where he was going.

West.

That was all she’d really said.

West.

Like that wasn’t vague.

It figured a city of gold that had never been found would likely be in a real hard-to-find place, like the middle of the Sonora Desert or the top of some snowcapped mountain. Both of those were west—kind of.

But even knowing she was probably a lunatic, Gabe had never felt anything sweeter than Shannon’s arms around him. He thought of Annette back in Ranger Bluff, and how he’d connected with her instantly.

A sister. He tried to convince himself of that. A sister. He’d felt
brotherly
feelings for her. Why not? He’d never had a sister. That could be how a man felt about his sister.

And she’d already been as good as spoken for when Gabe had finally gotten close enough to her to know how sweet she was. Up until then, he’d thought she was a likely culprit in the death of his ma. No romantic notions there.

But he’d felt for Annette much of what he was feeling for Shannon, and there was no one to stake a claim on Shannon. Less than no one. The woman was in desperate need of someone to protect her, love her, feed her, care for her, talk some sense into her.

They were riding alone, and Gabe had kept his mouth shut mainly out of a rock-solid fear of what would come out if he spoke. But now he realized he was wasting time. If he didn’t know her, then he’d just missed out on a huge chance to change that.

He opened his mouth to start getting to know this pretty woman with the tough belly and the very warm, tight arms.

A herd of sheep charged out of a stand of mesquite and spooked his horse.

Before the chestnut was done rearing and Gabe had it back under control, Shannon was hanging from the side of his saddle, her legs dangling, still clinging like a burr to his waist.

He looked down, smiled at her ashen face, grabbed her, and pulled her back, in front this time, onto his lap. He liked having her there, and he was done talking himself out of it. She needed him. And he certainly needed her. “Shannon, will you—”

“Sorry. Crazy
dibeh
. Crazy sheep.”

Gabe’s attention was torn from Shannon to a young woman who came bounding up out of that same scrub brush. He’d noticed her at the settlement yesterday… or the day before. Whenever he’d been there. She was the daughter of the parson. What was her name? Gabe fumbled around for it and finally remembered. “Emmy.” That was it. “I’m Gabriel Lasley. Remember me?”

The girl was a beauty. Dark hair pulled back in a single braid. Her skin tanned by long hours in the desert sun. Eyes an unusual shade of bright, strong blue. What he’d noticed though was the mischief in her expression. After five minutes in her presence, he caught the close supervision of her overprotective mother and the indulgence of her sentimental father. She also had lived with the Navajo so long she knew their language and their life. She was a wild one. She smiled at Shannon with teeth so white they glowed in her tawny skin. “You’ve rounded up a lady to travel with in a single day, Mr. Lasley?”

“Well, it’s been quite a day.”

Emmy laughed and looked at Shannon. “I’m Emmy Crenshaw. My father is the parson at the Kinlichee settlement.”

“I’m Shannon Dysart.” Shannon rested her head against Gabe’s chest as if only his strength were holding her up. Her brown hair had come out of its untidy braid thanks to the long day and the recent brush with catastrophe. Her face was streaked with dirt, she acted like riding a horse was one long brush with death, and she’d been awhile between baths.

By comparison, Emmy was tidy and clean and comfortable in her skin. And her smile was all for Gabe.

“Yes, Emmy. We’ll see you after you catch your crazy sheep.”

The girl laughed and hurried after the flock.

“You mentioned Parson Crenshaw had a family, but you didn’t mention a young, beautiful daughter.”

“I didn’t mention any of ‘em. He’s got a passel of young’uns.”

Shannon glared at him for no reason Gabe could imagine.

Gabe rode on into a green oasis in the middle of land that up until now had sprouted more rock than grass. The first thing he saw was a line of heavily loaded mules, obviously ready to depart Doba’s settlement. Gabe had left here just one day ago. He furrowed his brow. Not one day, two days? He wasn’t sure.

This team must have come in from the south, from Flagstaff, after he’d headed east. There were boxes and bags all over the ground, and the now much more lightly loaded mules would probably head… where? Somewhere with a telegraph office hopefully—which Gabe could make use of to explain the delay to his brother.

Gabe had come to Flagstaff from California on the Beale Wagon Road. Lieutenant Ned Beale had laid it out using his famous Camel Corp. The camel experiment had finally been abandoned, and many of the camels were set loose in the wild. Gabe had seen a pair of them himself during his cavalry days. All he knew about camels was that they had a reputation as mean-natured critters who’d charge a passing horse, so the cavalry riders had learned to stay clear of them.

“I need to talk to that mule handler over there. I should send a message to my brother Abe telling him I’ll be late.”

Shannon nodded.

“You want to let your ma know where you are?”

Her head stopped moving as if she’d been frozen solid. Shannon’s chin trembled then lifted just a bit. “Mother has washed her hands of me, I’m afraid.”

“Surely it’s not that bad.” Gabe couldn’t resist touching that little dent in her chin. Which drew Shannon’s wide-eyed attention to him. “You could at least send a few words letting her know you’re all right.”

With a little shrug, Shannon said quietly, “I don’t have the price of a telegraph message, Gabe.”

“I do.” He smiled at her struggle with pride. He’d figured out she wasn’t used to being penniless, and she had no talent or inclination for begging or borrowing. “Go ahead and send her a message. It might make things a mite easier when you get back east.” If she got back east. Gabe was thinking about keeping her.

“I—well—all right.” Shannon frowned. “Thank you, Gabe. I appreciate your generosity.”

“Glad I can help.” He rode to the man in the lead of the line of ten sturdy mules.

“Where’re you heading?” Gabe saw the sharp intelligence in the homely face of the mule skinner.

The man rode a buckskin mare and was checking the ropes on his string of mules. He took overly long studying the way Shannon hugged up next to Gabe. Then he scratched his whiskered face and spit a brown stream of tobacco on the ground. “Ridin’ straight through to Tuba City.”

“Can I send a message for you to wire to my brother, and another from Shannon here to her ma?”

“I reckon I could get a couple of wires off.” The man was as lanky as his mules and smelled about as good. But Gabe knew the kind of man who rode a hard trail like this. He was trusted with packages and money, and no dishonest man could make a living at it. If a mule skinner gave his word, he’d keep it.

“Obliged.” Gabe reached out a hand. “Gabe Lasley.”

The man shook.

“And this is Shannon Dysart.”

“Not your wife?”

“No.” Gabe wouldn’t lie, but it occurred to him that he and Shannon should have discussed just what to say.

The mule skinner scowled over Gabe’s answer but didn’t comment.

Gabe fumbled in his shirt pocket for a piece of paper and a pencil he kept there. He jotted a few words to his brother Abe, telling him where he’d gotten turned aside and not to expect him anytime soon. Shannon got a few seconds with the pencil and paper, too. They handed the notes over along with enough money to send the wires, and the mule train headed out.

Gabe watched them go, still holding Shannon. He was about to dismount just as a heavily accented voice drew his attention.

“Back so soon, my friend?” Doba Kinlichee greeted Gabe with a smile. Gabe wouldn’t exactly call the man a friend since they’d only met the once, but he was certainly friendly. It didn’t hurt that he had possession of the best waterhole in the area. People came by. Doba was friendly. People paid for food and a place to sleep while they got a drink, watered their horses, and filled their canteens.

Doba held the horse’s reins while Gabe swung down with Shannon still cradled against him, her arms around his neck. He was reluctant to lose the feel of her, even though she’d been driving him loco all day. “Thanks. We’d like to stay the night.”

“You and your… wife? You didn’t mention you were married when you came through before.” Doba smiled as if he had done the matchmaking. His face was weathered. His eyes black as a raven. He wore a soft leather jerkin over a faded red shirt. His pants had fringe down the outside of the legs, and he wore a battered black hat with an eagle feather dangling from the beaded band.

“We have an empty hogan you can—”

“No, she’s not my wife.” Gabe thought again they should have come up with a clear explanation. He stood Shannon on her feet and wished he’d done that a bit earlier.

Doba’s smile faltered. “You travel with your—sister?”

Gabe shared a long look with Shannon. “No. I just found her stranded and brought her in.”

“Just today?”

Gabe wasn’t a bit good at lying. He waited for Shannon to take over and do the talking.

The silence stretched far too long. Gabe finally said, “Well, yesterday. She was traveling—”

“You and an unmarried woman traveled together for days, Gabriel?”

Gabe noticed movement to his side and turned to see a squat, gray-haired man striding toward him. Wearing a parson’s collar. “What is this, Doba?” The man stopped in front of Gabe, standing shoulder to shoulder with his very outraged Navajo friend.

A couple who made the parson look like a youngster were bolder than the other residents of Doba’s little community. They walked up behind the parson.

“Parson Ford, is it?” Shannon swallowed audibly. “Hello. We are looking for a place to stay.”

The parson cut Shannon off with one cauterizing look then swung his eyes to Gabe. The brimstone in the parson’s eyes reminded Gabe of where he
didn’t
want to end up for all eternity.

Behind the parson’s back, Gabe saw the bustling settlement where Doba lived. A dozen or so hogans were scattered in the pretty mountain valley, near a pond fed by a flowing spring. Children were watching them with open curiosity. The adults were more subtle, but Gabe knew they were paying attention.

He didn’t see a sign of the more kindly Parson Crenshaw, though he saw a half dozen stair-step children who didn’t look Navajo, diverted from their play with Doba’s family by Gabe and Shannon.

“Gabriel,” Doba said mournfully, “we talked yesterday. You told me you were a man of faith.”

“And now, today, you ride in with a young woman in your company,” the older man said. “We have children here. We can’t have an unmarried couple traveling together.”

The parson’s eyes snapped with a bit of temper. “Hosteen Tsosi, I’ll handle this. He’s right, Gabe. You have ruined this young woman. And I clearly saw that there was an affection between you. This can’t be allowed. You will stand before me and do the right thing, or I will—”

“Now, Parson, nothing improper happened between us.” Gabe wasn’t about to tell the man of God the details, because Gabe was fairly sure that some of what had gone on with Shannon would not fit the man’s definition of the word
proper
. “I found her. I needed to bring her to safety, didn’t I? You wouldn’t have had me just ride away and leave her—”