The Temptress (Montgomery/Taggert 8)

Tynan merely nodded as he handed Pilar’s inert body to Asher and started toward the horses. “There’s some rough terrain ahead of us, but I don’t think they’ll be able to follow us. I don’t want any heroics, you understand, Chris? If I tell you to go on ahead, I expect you to do it, you understand?”

“I can follow sensible orders. Shall we ride before Dysan’s men find us standing here?”

Asher mounted, then Ty put Pilar in the saddle before him, so that he was holding her in place. “You think you can hold her?” Ty asked and there was a sadness in his voice that Chris was sure came from not being able to take care of her himself.

Within seconds, both she and Ty were mounted and they started to ride.

He was right when he’d said that it would be a difficult trip. They went straight up for a while, then across a boggy area that sucked at the horses’ feet, then across several of Washington’s cold, swift streams. For about a mile, they walked the horses through the water, hiding their trail from their pursuers.

Chris kept looking back at Pilar, whose eyes were still closed as Asher held onto her. She looked even paler.

“Watch where you’re going,” Tynan said in a tight-lipped way that told how much he was worried.

Once, they heard the dogs on a ridge above them and they moved their horses into the shelter of trees near a sharp rapids in the water. Chris’s horse slipped but Tynan caught the reins and pulled her back to safety.

When the men and dogs were gone, they rode down the stream into the forest, going the opposite direction of their hunters.

It was nearly dark when Tynan stopped his horse and stiffly dismounted. “Wait here for me. He won’t want any visitors.”

“Who won’t?” Chris asked but Tynan had already slipped into the trees and didn’t answer her.

“The old man.” It was a ragged whisper from Pilar. “Could I have some water?”

Quickly, Chris dismounted and removed her canteen from the back of the horse. Asher held it to Pilar’s lips while Chris examined Pilar’s wound. The bleeding had stopped, but she didn’t look as if she had much strength left.

Chris’s head came up as she heard the blast of a shotgun from somewhere close.

Pilar leaned back against Asher. “It’s the old man,” she said. “It’s the man that found Tynan when he was born.”

“The miner?” Chris asked.

“Whatever he calls himself. Mostly he sells whatever comes his way.”

“Like six-year-old little boys,” Chris said with disgust as she recapped the canteen.

Pilar didn’t answer as she continued leaning against Asher, while Ash gave Chris a look that told her they needed to rest soon.

Tynan came back, moving silently through the trees, appearing almost as if from nowhere. “We have a place for a couple of days but no more,” he said as he watched Chris remount and looked at Pilar with concern. He stayed back and let Asher go first, then started out beside Chris. “He’s not like other people,” he said to her, his eyes on the narrow trail ahead of them. “Don’t turn your back on him and don’t trust him. Don’t tell him who your father is and don’t think there’s anything good about him. And don’t ask him questions.”

“You really hate him, don’t you?” she whispered.

“Yeah, I really hate him,” Ty said as he moved his horse forward to lead them up the steep hillside to the miner’s cabin.

It was a nasty little building, filthy beyond belief, clinging to the side of a rock wall that fell down into a ravine below. Chris thought that the rock probably wanted to rid itself of something so dirty. There were half rotted carcasses around the doorway and the flies were so thick that they were like a black, moving curtain. Nearby were piles of animal skins and a pot of rancid meat. A scrawny dog that Chris had at first thought was dead was tied to the front wall.

“We’ll leave Pilar out here while we clean this place up,” Ty said as he yanked away the rope that held the starving dog in place. The poor animal limped to a pot of water with scum on it and began to lap greedily.

Ty helped Pilar off the horse while Chris stood and stared at the place, brushing away flies, trying to cover her nose at the smell.

“I ain’t givin’ no charity,” came a voice from behind her. “You pay for what you take. I never asked for you to come here. What’d you let that dog loose for? He’ll eat ever’thin’ in sight.”

Chris turned to see a gnarled little man with black, rotten teeth, his face twisted into an agony of misery as he saw that Tynan had begun to throw the rotten meat carcasses into the canyon below.

The old man ran toward Ty. “What are you doin’?” he whined. “That’s my food. You’re tryin’ to kill me, just like you done your own mother. You wanta starve me.”

Tynan ignored the old man’s hands clutching at his arm and looked over his shoulder at Chris who was staring dumbfoundedly. “See to Pilar,” he commanded, “and, Prescott, see if you can shoot us some fresh game. Chris, take that pot and scrub it out with sand and go up that hill to the stream and get some fresh water.”

“Take, that’s all you ever do. Took a woman’s life before you took your first breath. Now you want to take what’s mine.”