Winter Fire Read Free Page A

Culpepper.
    â€œBe easier to winter at Lost River ranch, dammit,” Moody said.
    â€œEasy ain’t always best. Time you learned that. We’re gonna do just what we planned.”
    â€œStay in Spring Canyon?” asked another voice. “ Por Dios , the wind there, she is very cold.”
    â€œIf you and the rest of the breeds got the lead out of your butts,” Ab said, “camp would be snug as a tick in a hound’s ear.”
    Someone swore in disgust but no one spoke up.
    â€œI’ll kill the next man I see rustling Circle A beef,” Ab said.
    No one said a word.
    â€œSame for any man who messes with them white women,” he added.
    â€œEven Big Lola?” Moody asked in disbelief.
    â€œI hear she done give up the sporting life.”
    â€œSure, but dammit, she’s just an old whore, dammit!”
    â€œLeave her be. We’re gonna do what them ’Paches do. Live quiet at home and raid far off.”
    There were restless movements but no voice spoke against Ab Culpepper’s calm, ruthless orders.
    â€œIn a year or so,” Ab said, “we’ll have ourselves a thousand head of stock and enough women for a sultan’s palace. Anyone got trouble with that?”
    Silence.
    â€œAll right. Get your tails back to camp. Kester and me will ride the back trail and see if any Circle A folks take a notion to come calling. You got any questions, talk to Parnell.”
    Shod hooves clicked on stones. The unshod hooves of the mustangs Moody’s men rode made less noise.
    The smell of dust rose up to the shallow cave where Sarah and Case lay motionless.
    After it had been silent for several minutes, she started to get up. Instantly he was over her again, flattening her, silencing her with a hand across her mouth.
    â€œAb” was all Case whispered.
    It was all he had to say. She became utterly still.
    Long minutes went by.
    â€œTold you,” Kester said.
    â€œAn’ I’m telling you,” Ab said, “that someone is out there.”
    â€œGhost.”
    â€œGhost,” Ab mocked. “Ain’t no ghosts, boy. How many times I have to tell you?”
    â€œSeen ’em.”
    â€œOnly at the bottom of a bottle.”
    â€œSeen ’em,” Kester repeated.
    â€œAin’t you the baby. Pa woulda kicked your sorry ass all the way round the holler.”
    â€œSeen ’em.”
    â€œShee-it. Next you’ll be whining about them Texicans following us.”
    â€œAin’t seen ’em.”
    â€œShee-it.”
    With that, Ab reined his mule around and trotted off into the darkness. Kester’s mule followed.
    Case didn’t move.
    Neither did Sarah, for the simple reason that she was still pinned beneath him.
    Finally, slowly, he rolled aside. Before she could move to get up, he pressed a hand firmly between her shoulder blades.
    Together, motionless, they listened to the immense silence of the land.
    If she hadn’t been accustomed to hunting or simply watching wild animals, she would have grown impatient long before Case gave her any signal that it was all right to move.
    But she had spent many years with a rifle or shotgun, providing food for her younger brother and her worthless, treasure-hunting husband. She endured the discomfort because there was no other sensible thing to do.
    Her patience impressed Case as much as her absolute stillness. He had known few men and no women who could be motionless for long periods of time. Sooner or later, most men fidgeted.
    Sooner or later, most men died.
    Lord, but this girl smells good , he thought. Feels good, too. Soft, but not pudding soft. Like a rosebud, all springy and alive .
    Wonder if she tastes like rain and heat and roses all mixed together?
    With a silent curse at his unruly thoughts—and body—Case lifted his hand from Sarah’s back, freeing her.
    â€œKeep your voice down,” he said softly. “Sound carries a long way down these stone