Rue Allyn by One Night's Desire

country from her stint as photographer for the US Geological survey, and soon as winter set in, which it did early in the high country, she’d be virtually impossible to find, especially if she wintered in Smoke Valley. Come next spring, she’d make her way up the divide and disappear into Canada. Well, that was the future, best to concentrate on what had to be done now. Since they seemed to have eluded her pursuers that meant putting supper together.
    The camp was sheltered on three sides, so it would shield their fire from sight and hold the heat. A stream trickled a few yards away. A deer path wandered up and around a gentle slope on the north side of the site, giving easy access to the top of the overhang. As it was his turn, Muh’Weda would spend the night there on watch for pursuers and other potential threats. Still, Kiera doubted she’d get much rest. She hadn’t slept well since she’d escaped from her grandfather more than three years ago. Convinced he’d find her and have her hauled back to Boston, she rarely relaxed, always searching her surroundings for someone who might be following her. Now she knew for certain entirely too many people were looking for her. No, she wouldn’t get much rest tonight.
    She removed beans and bacon from one of her saddle bags. Muh’Weda had the pot warming over the fire. She sliced pieces off the bacon slab, tossing them into the pot. When the bacon had sizzled a few minutes, she added water and beans. Then she returned the remaining bacon to her saddle bags and knelt to look for her hairbrush. While she was searching, she heard the small crack of a broken twig behind her. Casually she reached to where her rifle lay beside her saddle.
    She could use a knife and trap well enough to feed herself. However, she couldn’t hit anything in motion or hit a target farther than three feet away. The only reason she carried firearms was to frighten away predators, animal and human.
    Another sound, like the scrape of a boot over rock. Whoever it was sure was noisy.
    Her hand tightened on the rifle.
    She pivoted on one knee putting the firearm to her shoulder and taking aim as she moved. “Hold it right there!”
    Even in the half-light of dusk she recognized the man with the battered tan hat from the mercantile at Brown’s camp. He had his six-shooter drawn halfway out of its holster and was a lot closer than he should have been. Which meant it was pure clumsiness on his part that she’d heard him at all.
    “You draw and you’re dead.” With her rifle pointed at the man’s chest, she spoke loud to make certain that he knew she meant business. She also hoped Muh’Weda would hear her and come running.
    The man lifted his hand away from his holster. “Now, don’t go doin’ anything both of us will regret, ma’am.”
    Muh’Weda will be back soon; all I have to do is keep this unwelcome guest too worried to jump me while I wait.
    “Set yourself down right there and don’t say a word.” She gestured with the tip of her rifle to where his feet were planted.
    In that instant, a hand came around from behind her, ripping the rifle away before she could tighten her grasp. She started to turn but stilled when she heard a click and felt a cold circle of metal press into her nape. Fear slithered down her spine.
    “Boyd, get over here and put those irons on her.”
    The deep fluid tones sent an entirely different sensation cascading through her.
I recognize that voice?
“No … ” she started to protest.
    “Don’t talk. I sure don’t want to shoot you, Wildcat, but you’re as good to me dead as alive, so I’d cooperate if I was you. Now sit down and put out your hands.”
    Lord have mercy, the marshal and his partner had caught her.
Guess I won’t have to worry about that anymore.
However, she was worried about Muh’Weda.
Where is he? Have they hurt him?
Didn’t matter. He wasn’t here, and Kiera had little choice but to cooperate. She lifted her arms straight out.
    Boyd