Free Christmas for Ransom by Tanya Hanson Page B

she buried the little bones, then washed her hands by rubbing snow between them. Gloves on, she warmed herself by her fire just a little longer before heading to Backbone. It might be just a whim, the tracks were long melted, but he had definitely not been headed for civilization.
    A weak sun pulled out from the clouds, making the ocotillo into a skeleton of shade as she approached Firewalker to mount up. She heard, then saw, a rider approach across the snow-patched grasses. Alert, she rested her hand on her rifle, but the newcomer dismounted, stalking over with confidence if not exactly friendliness.
    “Howdy, honeysuckle. No need for that gun.” He stuck a small spyglass in his pocket and then touched his brim. “Been following you for a while. Didn’t recognize ya’ll in time to join you for grub.” He kicked at the fire. “You’re prettier’n ever, sugar. What brings you way out here? A site far from the Stony, I’d declare.”
    She wasn’t sure how to react, or what to do or say, for this was the last man she’d ever hoped to see again.
    “Howdy yourself, Royal Gitts,” she said at last.
    “Why, I’ll take that as a welcome.” He grinned the grin that one time had sent her toes tingling. Even with a new raw-looking scar, he was a fine-looking man.
    “What you doing all alone out here?” he asked.
    Royal’s tone set her nerves rustling like dry mesquite in the wind. Unlike her erstwhile lunch, the soft wild-eyed rabbit, she wouldn’t let her fear show.
    “On my way back to the ranch for Christmas,” she said. “I teach school now, uh…” She scrambled for a location, being off-kilter from Pleasure Stakes and forced a cough while she considered. “Not far off. Cold Spring.”
    Royal nodded at her stammered explanation, seemed to accept it. “Heard tell you were a ’marm now.”
    “I’ll get to Cahoots by nightfall,” she said.
    “Ain’t stopping in at the Southern Star?”
    Eliza realized her mistake at once. Of course Royal had known the Willowses and Bowdens were great friends. “Uh, no. They’ve had illness of late, and I don’t want to disrupt their healing.”
    Royal tossed her a smile, and she read relief in his expression. Bypassing the Star meant she wouldn’t recognize Oneida, the stolen horse he’d sold Crusty.
    Then he leered, eyeing her up and down in a way she didn’t recognize and didn’t like at all. Before, he’d been tender even if he hadn’t satisfied her. Not now. Her clothes were muddy and snow-damp, but she recalled he knew full well what she looked like without any at all. He stepped closer and she moved back, hard against ’Walker’s flank.
    “Why, all this chit-chat reminds me of what we had between us, sugarplum. Sure puts me in the mood,” Royal drawled. “I’m about to kiss you. Reckon you’ll like it like you did once before.” He laughed out loud. “Make that twice.”
    Fear assailed her, for she was fearfully alone. Best to act like the snooty Eliza Willows he remembered. “You get near me without my invitation, Royal Gitts, and I’ll bite off your tongue.”
    With a deadly grin, he hauled her close. “That suits me right fine, sugar. I’ll sure enjoy having you try.”
    He held her chin firm while he bent his face to hers.
    ****
    “I’m giving you good advice, Ahab.”
    Squatting by a puny fire in a busted-up fireplace, Ransom blew on his frozen fingers, reckoning them kin to the icicles that hung down Gram-maw’s roofline way back when. In his rush this morning, he’d mislaid his gloves in the Southern Star barn. Recollecting last night with Eliza spooned against him got him hard just at the thought and warmed him right up. Truth to tell, if he’d waked Eliza to bid good-bye, he’d never have left at all. He decided to hold off announcing his betrothal to the gang.
    Ahab Perkins had made a cozy-enough nest in a burnt-out homestead at Backbone. He lolled against his saddle, two or three others grumbling over cards in what looked to