Dead Man's Trail (9781101606957) by Frank Leslie Page B

sigh and handed her his rifle. “Take that.”
    When she’d taken the Yellowboy, he leaned down and picked her up in his arms and carried her through the brush and back to the trail. His Winchester lay between them, the barrel angling up past her shoulder. “Sorry to be so much trouble,” she said as he began following the trail up through the crease toward the cabin.
    â€œI reckon it’s the gold that’s the trouble. That much in one place is bound to be, and I’ll be happy to be rid of it.”
    â€œAre you really going to take it to Belle Fourche and give it to Mr. Clifton’s family?”
    â€œLook,” he said, breathing hard with the climb, “I ain’t no angel, in case you haven’t noticed the lack of wings and a halo. It’s just that I’ve done enough bad things in my life that I reckon it’s time to start makin’ up for a few before I visit my maker. I can’t stand the smell of butane.”
    â€œAnd you think that’s the right thing to do?”
    â€œDon’t you?”
    â€œI reckon.” Trudy’s breath came hard as she jounced in his arms, her own arms encircling his neck. He felt her sort of squirm against him as she said, “Seems like a lot to go through, though. For people you don’t even know.”
    â€œHe went through a lot for me. And—”
    â€œI know, I know. You got some makin’ up to do.” Trudy paused. “I reckon we all do.”
    â€œWhat would you have to make up for—a girl of your few years?”
    â€œThey ain’t all that few. I’m almost nineteen, you know. When I dress up, Pa says I’m goin’ on thirty.” She smiled.
    â€œYeah, well, still.”
    â€œYou can set me down and take a breather, if you want.”
    â€œDon’t need one.”
    â€œImpressive.”
    Yakima walked across the clearing and kicked the cabin door open. He paused just inside to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, then set her down in one of the two ladder-back chairs at the table.
    â€œFoot feelin’ any better?” he asked her.
    â€œIt’s my ankle and no, not really,” she said, leaning back in the chair and lifting her right boot off the floor. “I think it’s swelling a little.”
    He set his rifle on the table. “I’ll get the fire built back up and take a look at it.”
    â€œYou can look at pretty much anything I got,” she said.
    Yakima looked back at her, startled. “Huh?”
    She was looking at him with a lusty grin, cheeks dimpled. “You heard me.”
    Yakima gave a wry chuff and then rebuilt the fire until the flames were leaping and dancing. “What would Old Judith say about that?”
    â€œOld Judith ain’t here.” She narrowed an eye at him as he knelt in front of her and set her right foot on his knee. “And you wouldn’t be my first,” she added.
    Yakima sighed, not liking the direction the conversation had taken. He was a red-blooded man, susceptible to the weaknesses of his ilk, and he didn’t want the temptation. It was a cold, dark night, and they were alone here in the cabin in which he thought he could still hear the sighs and laughter of another woman he’d met here. In such a situation, a man could easily make the wrong decision.
    â€œThat hurt?” he said, gently moving her boot around.
    She sucked a sharp breath through her teeth, scowling. “Yess!”
    â€œSorry.”
    â€œYou’re gonna pay for that, mister!”
    Yakima looked up at her. She was smiling down at him, her eyes sparking in the firelight.
    * * *
    Yakima dropped his bare feet to the floor. Trudy groaned and reached for him, but her fingers only lightly raked the back of his thick upper right arm as he rose from the cot and walked naked to the fireplace.
    The fire had nearly gone out again while he’d allowed himself to be seduced—what the hell was