Dorothy Garlock - [Colorado Wind 03] by Wind of Promise

compartment beneath the wagon bed and took out dry kindling. “Do you think it’s all right to build a fire?”
    “They’ll not expect you to discover the mules are gone until daylight.”
    “Why didn’t the dog make a fuss when
he
sneaked in here?” Vanessa demanded.
    “Mary Ben’s the only thin’ that dog cares for, ma’am,” John said regretfully. “Long as she ain’t bothered, he’ll not do nothin’.”
    “Fine watchdog he is!”
    John started a small fire. Ellie filled the blackened coffeepot with water from the barrel, added coffee, and set it on the grill over the flames. Vanessa stood back out of the light. She looked often at Kain DeBolt as he stood talking to John. In the faint light she could tell that he was dressed in buckskins, wore knee-high moccasins, and had a gun belt strapped around his slim hips. His hat was pulled low over his eyes, and his face was turned toward her. Damn him! He was watching her.
    Henry came out of the back of the wagon, yawning and scratching his head. “Is it time to hitch up?”
    Vanessa went to him before he reached the circle of light and urged him back against the wagon. “The mules are gone, Henry. Those men we met yesterday stole them.”
    “Well, golly! I didn’t think they were very nice fellows anyway. They looked mean. Is he one of them?” he asked in a low voice, but it carried in the stillness.
    “I don’t . . . think so.” Vanessa made sure her voice carried across the camp. “But you can’t trust anyone you meet up with out here in this accursed land.”
    “Henry, come meet Mr. DeBolt.” Henry moved obediently toward his mother. “My son, Henry.” There was always pride in Ellie’s voice when she introduced her son.
    “Howdy, Henry.” Kain held out his hand.
    Henry took it, mumbled a word, and stepped back into the shadows beside Vanessa. He could tell that Vanessa didn’t like this man, so he didn’t like him either.
    Vanessa stood silently beside Henry for a moment, then slipped into the caravan. She pinned her hair up on the top of her head, put on Henry’s old hat and pulled it down over her ears. Kain DeBolt was too smooth and it bothered her. As a matter of fact, everything about him bothered her a lot. He was so damn sure of himself. The way he laughed at her infuriated her. She wanted to cry when she thought of the mules. Had they been stolen while she sat there daydreaming? The possibility of their being taken by white men hadn’t occurred to her. Indians, perhaps, but not white men.
    One thing was sure, she thought. They couldn’t stay where they were and they couldn’t move without the mules. They had to get them back since they couldn’t pull the wagon to Colorado with one saddle horse. Maybe she could ride ahead and find the army patrol. The more she thought of it, the more she realized that was the only hope they had. She would have to do it and she might as well get started. She stepped out of the wagon to tell her aunt her decision.
    Kain was squatting on his heels with a cup in his hands, talking to Ellie. Vanessa approached the fire and held out her cup. His hat was lying on the ground beside him. He looked younger without the hat until he turned to look up at her and the light fell on the scar across his cheek. Vanessa quickly looked away, but the picture of him stayed in her mind. Until he smiled he looked almost as sinister as the dark-eyed man. But when he smiled it made all the difference. He grinned at her with his lips and his light, fawn colored eyes. She turned her back on him and spoke to her aunt.
    “The only hope we have of getting our mules back is to reach that army patrol up ahead. I’ll ride out and try to find them.”
    “You’ll do no such thing.”
    Vanessa turned slowly, disbelievingly, when she heard those softly spoken words. Kain was still squatting beside the fire. His eyes caught and held hers. He wasn’t smiling. Silence pressed down on the entire camp as the two did battle with