To Tame a Wolf. Susan Krinard

of Tombstone’s numerous corrals, stables and supply stores. By late afternoon she knew that André had indeed bought a pair of mules and all the appropriate gear, and had set off from Tombstone over a week ago. His likely path would take him east, toward the Chiricahuas, but well north of Cold Creek’s little side valley.

      Tally muttered a curse she saved for only the worst situations and returned to the stable where she had left the wagon and horses. Miriam and Federico were waiting for her in the shade of the building. Federico looked as though he’d eaten a sour lemon, and Miriam was furiously knitting the shawl she’d begun on the ride to Tombstone. She stopped when she saw Tally.

      “Bad news?” she asked softly.

      “Bad enough. André gambled the money before he bought any cattle and went back to the mountains with mining gear.”

      “Madre de Dios,” Federico muttered.

      “Elijah?” Miriam said.

      The worry in her voice revealed far more than her dispassionate face. Tally knew how much she cared for Elijah, and he for her. God help the man if he ever made Miriam cry.

      “I can’t find any evidence that Elijah was ever in Tombstone,” Tally said.

      “He’s been gone a week,” Miriam said, crumpling the shawl between her graceful hands.

      “He may be looking for André in the Valley. It’s a big area to cover.” Tally pushed back her hat and blotted the perspiration from her forehead. “We can’t afford a hotel tonight. We’ll sleep in the wagon and decide what to do in the morning—if you don’t mind bedding with the horses, Rico.”

      The Mexican shrugged. “What will we do tomorrow, señorita?”

      “I can find him for you.”

      Tally whirled to face the man from Hafford’s—the one who had made the uncharacteristic shiver race down her spine. His back was to the sun, so she still couldn’t make out his features. But his height was a dead giveaway, and his voice, deep and rough, made her think of dark alleys and smoking guns. He was what the girls at La Belle Hélène used to call a “long, tall drink of water.” Tally’s mouth had suddenly gone very dry indeed.

      She held her ground, staring up into the shadows of his eyes under the black hat’s brim. “Who are you?”

      “Someone who has what you need.” He angled his head so she could see that the slitted eyes were the palest gray tinted with green, nestled in a web of wrinkles carved by sun and wind. His hair was a brown so dark as to be almost black. No single element of his face could be called handsome, yet the overall effect was one of compelling strength and inner power. Few women would fail to look at him twice.

      “You followed me here,” Tally said.

      “I heard you was looking for your brother,” he said, glancing over her shoulder at her companions. Federico took a step forward, compelled against his mild nature to assume the role of gallant protector. “Call your man off. I mean you no harm.”

      “It’s all right, Rico,” she said, never taking her gaze from the stranger’s. “Why do you think you can help us?”

      The man drew closer, crowding Tally up against the wall of the livery. She dodged neatly, keeping her distance. He smelled of perspiration, as everyone did in the desert, but it was not an unpleasant odor. In fact, he smelled different from any man she’d met. He moved easily, smoothly, like a puma or a fox. But he didn’t offer a threat, and if he wore a gun, it was well hidden under his coat.

      “My name’s Sim Kavanagh,” the man said. “I heard your brother ran off to the mountains after losing big at the Crystal Palace. They say he’s a tenderfoot who wouldn’t know a pickax from a shovel, so I figured—”

      “André’s no tenderfoot. We have a ranch on the other side of Sulphur Spring Valley. He—” She wasn’t about to confess André’s irresponsibility to this man. “He has dreams, sometimes,” she finished awkwardly.

      Kavanagh narrowed his eyes. “He’s your older brother? Sounds like you look after him. He gamble away all your money?”

      Tally bristled. “What is your interest in my brother, Mr. Kavanagh?”

      “I was a scout for the army. I know all the ranges—the Dragoons, Chiricahuas, the Mules. Tracking’s what I do. And right now I need a job.”

      His confession startled Tally into silence. A man like this Sim Kavanagh wasn’t the type to admit such a need any more than she was. She examined him more closely. His clothing, though of good quality, was much worn and patched at the seams. He’d been down on his luck for some time…or perhaps he was simply a scoundrel on the run. Surely even an outlaw wouldn’t consider what they had worth stealing.

      Federico appeared at her shoulder. “How do we know you are what you say you are, señor? How do we know you are good at what you do?”

      Kavanagh shrugged. “I’m willing to take half pay before, half after your brother’s found.”

      “I can’t pay much,” Tally said. “You’d do better to look elsewhere for employment.”

      “When your belly’s empty,” Kavanagh said, “even a few pesos look pretty damned good. You got supplies?”

      This was moving much too fast for Tally. She didn’t trust men. That was the principle tenet of her life. “We can’t be sure he went into the Chiricahuas,” she said. “I sent my foreman to look for him, but he hasn’t returned, either.”

      “Soon as I leave town, I’ll be able to tell which direction your brother rode—and your range boss, too, if he was in Tombstone,” Kavanagh said with an offhand conviction that brooked no argument. “Your brother’ll be headed east on the road to Turquoise if he’s making for the Valley. You pay me two dollars now and give me directions to your ranch, and I’ll deliver your brother within the next two weeks.”

      Tally laughed. “Two dollars is your idea of half pay?” She turned her back on Kavanagh, and ice ran up and down her spine. Ice like the color of his eyes. “If I hire you, it’s one dollar now and one when you bring André back. Alive.”

      Kavanagh also laughed, and the sound wasn’t pretty. “He have a bounty on his head?”

      “No. And I might as well tell you that he can’t have much money left himself, so robbing him won’t do you much good. As you said, he can’t tell a shovel from a pickax. If he found anything worth mining, it would be a miracle.”

      Federico laid his hand on her arm in warning. Kavanagh barely shifted, but Tally was aware of the tracker’s movement as if he had been the one to touch her.

      “You don’t think too highly of me, do you, boy?” he said with a faint smile. “What taught you to be so suspicious so damned young?”

      Life, she wanted to answer. And men like you. She turned and met his cold eyes. “I don’t know you,” she said. “I don’t know if anything you say is true. I could spend another day asking around town for references, but I don’t want to lose any more time.”

      “I give my word that I’ll do exactly as I say or forfeit the money.”

      His word. A man’s word meant as little to her as a snap of her fingers, but Kavanagh’s gaze held so steady that she began to believe him. Those eyes…

      She shook her head to clear it. “There’s only one way I’ll hire you, Mr. Kavanagh, and that’s if I go with you.”

      “I work alone.”

      She ignored him. “Federico, you take Miriam back to the ranch and wait. Maybe Elijah and André will turn up while I’m gone.”

      Federico’s black brows furrowed above his brown eyes. “No, seño—no, Mr. Bernard. I will not leave you alone with this man.”

      “You don’t think I’m afraid?” She smiled at Kavanagh.