第 20 页

"Morning, Devon."

She frowned at his rather subdued greeting. Normally when Bear came to the post he was grinning from ear to ear. Taking his arm, she led him to the table and pulled out a chair for him.

"Here, sit. I'll make us some coffee."

He did as he was told.

At the stove she cast him a sidelong glance. He was so quiet. And he looked tired. "Are you all right?"

"Cornelius sent me."

His tone of voice chilled her to the bone. The coffeepot slipped through her fingers, hitting the stove with a resounding clang. It took her a moment to gather the courage necessary to ask, "Why?"

"He left. Said he was goin' up to Rabbit Creek to take pictures of the minin'. There's talk that strike of Lyin' George's might just pan out after all."

For one heart-stopping moment Devon thought she was going to burst into tears. Then she got control of herself. It wouldn't do any good to cry in front of Bear; it would only make him feel uncomfortable. She went to the table and sat down. Squeezing her eyes shut, she counted silently to ten.

She opened her eyes and found Bear staring at her. The sadness in his big brown eyes almost severed her hard-won control. Tears threatened again.

"He could have said good-bye." She'd meant the words to sound angry, but they came out croaked and desolate.

Bear scooted close. She thought for a moment he'd take her hand, but he didn't. Instead he said, "Maybe not."

"Struck mute, was he?" she said with unaccustomed bit-a terness.

"Now, missy, don't get all snappy with me. I'm liable snap right back but good."

Devon heard the smile in his voice and immediately felt like a spoiled child. " Sorry."

"Maybe Cornelius couldn't say good-bye. Maybe it took all his guts just to go."

"Oh, my, yes. It certainly takes courage to run away."

"Ah, Devon, I'm disappointed in you. Cornelius always said you was smart as a whip."

She bristled. "I am smart."

Bear wedged a dirty toothpick between his two front teeth and leaned back in his chair, studying her. "Then answer me this, miss smarty-pants, why do most people run away fromsomethin'?"

Devon thought about that for a moment. "I don't know. I left St. Louis because I was afraid of what I'd become if I stayed."

"Aha!"

Devon sighed impatiently. "Don't look at me like you've just solved my every problem. So what if I ran away because I was scared of staying. What does that have to do with Stone Man? What on earth does he have to be frightened of?"

This time Bear did take her hand. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Gettin' hurt."

Devon was stunned into momentary speechlessness. If anyone else had suggested such a ridiculous notion she'd have laughed in his face, but not Bear. He knew Stone Man too well.

"Stone Man has to know I'd never hurt him," she said finally.

"He ain't a thinker like you, Devon." Bear leaned closer, looking her right in the eyes. "You ever seen a lone timber wolf?"

"No."

"Well, if you had, maybe you'd understand Cornelius a mite better."

"Help me to understand him, Bear. Please."

"Sometimes a wolf gets shunned by the pack, and he has to wander the woods alone. When he sees a campfire, he draws close. He can smell the roasting meat and knows he can kill the poor fool sitting by himself. But the wolf don't move; he just stands in the dark, waiting and watching."

"And that's Cornelius? Drawn to the fire and yet afraid of it?"

"Something like that. Remember, missy, Cornelius lived alone a long time. He's lived by gut instinct so long he don't question it. When his gut says run, he runs."

"And somehow I frighten him." She sighed."But I would never hurt him." This time the words were spoken with an aching softness.

Bear smiled at her. "I know that, missy. When Cornelius figures that out, he'll be back. A man can only howl at the moon so long."

Devon tried to laugh. "I hope he figures it out quickly. Patience has never been one of my strongest traits."

"Well, I wouldn't get all twisted up over it. He'll come back when he comes back." He winked at her. "You think he'll figure somethin' like this out quickly?"

Devon smiled involuntarily. "No, I don't suppose so."

"Well," Bear said, "I'm here for you till he does. I'm gonna come by every mornin' to walk you to the post, and I'll be keepin' my eye on you durin' the day."

"Oh, that isn't nee-"

"It was to Cornelius. He said I was to watch over you like you was my own kin."

Devon's heart tripped. "He did?"

"He did."

She felt light enough to fly. He did care about her, and that's why he'd left. Because he was scared by his own emotions.

She hoped he was scared to death.

Stone Man huddled under the sagging, shivering branches of a half-naked tree, watching rain pummel the Yukon River. Tugging the fleece collar of his mackinaw closer around his stubble-coated chin, he hunched his shoulders against the biting wind. As he skuttled backward, searching blindly for the tree's trunk, a huge blob of rain plunked in his open eye.

"Damn it," he hissed, wiping his eye. Damn the rain, damn the cold, and damn her. Most of all, damn her.

He felt like a frozen pile of dog crap. Just thinking about her made him mad.

All his life he'd been moving, drifting, but this was the first time he'd ever run from anything.

And he was running from a goddamn woman. Where was the self-respect in that?

Worse yet it wasn't going well at all. He'd been gone less than twenty-four hours and already he was tired, cranky, and sore. He was too damn old to be gallivanting around the countryside in the shadow of winter, too old to be playing the self-reliant mountain man. Hell, if he'd wanted to spend his nights hunkered down in the mud he wouldn't have built a nice, cozy tent.

Nice, cozy tent. Unbidden an image of home flashed in his mind. Not the sagging, stinking tent he'd built ten years ago, but the home she'd made for him out of clean sheets, good meals, quiet laughter, and wildflowers. It was the first home he'd ever known. Oh, he'd had lots of places to hang his hat, lots of roofs over his head, but he'd never had a home. A place where he belonged.

A place he missed when he wasn't there.

No. Those were precisely the type of thoughts he was freezing his ass off to forget. He didn't belong there, didn't belong with her. He didn't belong anywhere, and he didn't want to. He was a loner, a recluse. Through the eye of his camera he observed the building of life by others. He took no part in building one of his own.

The only consolation was that he'd left in time, before she wormed her way into his life. She may have sneaked into his post and into his tent and (he was forced to admit) into his affection, but she damn well hadn't become a necessary part of his life. Not yet. He was still his own man, ruled by no one, accountable only to himself. Hadn't he proved that by walking away from her so easily?

He'd simply had a momentary lapse of judgment-and even that hadn't been his fault. She'd tricked him. She'd made him feel so comfortable he'd let down his guard. But no more. From now on his guard was up. All he had to do was break the habit of liking her.

How tough could that be? he wondered. She was just a woman. It couldn't be any harder than giving up whiskey- and he'd done that in a single day.

Yep, he figured he'd meander up Bonanza Creek way, take a few photographs, kick Devon from his thoughts, and then return home the same man he'd been before she stepped into his life. It shouldn't take more than a day or two. Three tops.

Pulling his hat lower on his brow, he folded his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. Eyes closed, he leaned heavily against the tree trunk.

Yep, two days away from her and he'd be as good as new. "Stone Man" MacKenna.

But his last conscious thought before drifting off to sleep was of a pair of green eyes.

Chapter Fourteen

Devon curled her gloved fingers around the tin cup, drawing some small bit of warmth from the metal. She took a sip, sighing contentedly as the hot tea slid in a river of warmth down her throat.

From her seat beside the stove she glanced idly around the post. It was perfect, spotless. There was absolutely nothing to be done. Nothing.

Darn it. Stone Man hadn't been gone a week, and already she was bored to tears. And lonely.

"Hiya, miss."

Devon's startled gaze flew to the tent flaps. Digger Haines was standing just inside the post, and for the first time since she'd met him he wasn't smiling.

"Hello, Digger. Would you like some tea?"

He shuffled over to the little stove and pulled out a stool beside her. With a heavy sigh he slumped onto the hard wooden surface. "Call me Marvin. I don't feel much like Digger today."

Devon leaned toward him. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing much," he said with unusual bitterness. "I just made about the biggest discovery of my life, and I can't do nothin' about it. That's all." He stripped off his thick winter gloves and laid them on the floor in front of the stove. "Yeah, guess I'll have some o' that tea after all."

Frowning, Devon poured him a cup. "What do you mean?"

He took the cup greedily, wrapping his stubby fingers 151 around the hot metal."I-me, Marvin Joseph Haines-found, a mistake on Eldorado."

"A mistake, on the creek?" : "Yep. You know how each man's claim is fifty feet long! along die banks? Well, I found a place where there's a fifteen-foot gap." He stared at her hard for emphasis. "Fifteen; whole feet on Eldorado. Unclaimed. Think on it, miss. It's! worth a fortune." His shoulders slumped suddenly.

"To someone, that is."

"Why not to you?"

"Well, I claimed it, o' course, but now there ain't nothin' I can do but sell."

"Sell? But that's crazy, Digger. You're a miner yourself. Why don't you just-"

"Can't afford it, miss. I'd have to work all winter without making a nickel. No trapping, no hunting, nothing. Just digging. See, up here you gotta pick a place on your claim and start digging for the gold. You light a fire every night and let it burn till morning. Then in the daylight you dig till you hit ground that's still froze. The diggings get all piled up, and the durn pile freezes solid.

You don't know if you got a dime or a million till spring."

"It sounds difficult, but you're strong and-"

"Strong don't put beans in your belly. I need a grubstake."

"Jack Kelley-"

"Is tapped out."

Devon took a sip of her tea. Stone Man wouldn't like what she was thinking. He's gone, darn it. If he were so all-fired concerned about how she ran the post, he should have stuck around. A small smile curved her lips. It was her post now. And her decision. "Digger, I'd be proud to grubstake you."

He gulped hard. "Oh, no, miss. I couldn't let you do that. Stone Man, he's got some mighty firm ideas on grubstaking. Fact is, he thinks its only slightly better'n stealing."

"Do you see Stone Man here?"

"N-Nope."

"Have you seen him here at all in the last six days?"

"Nope."

She smiled. "Then it's safe to say that I'm running Ms post, and as operator I'm deciding to grubstake a friend."

Digger wet his lips nervously. She could almost see the battle raging in his mind. Half of him wanted desperately to take her up on the offer, but the other half was scared spitless of Stone Man's wrath.

"Well?" she prodded.

Greed won out. "Well, durn it, okay. I'll let you grubstake me, but only 'cause I know this is the big one. It ain't no risk at all."

"Good!" She walked briskly to the counter. Extracting a piece of snow-white linen from her embroidery bag, she lay the material flat on the counter and retrieved her Cross Stylographic fountain pen from its stand under the counter. She dipped the silver tip in the blue ink, shook off the excess, and carefully printed the words, "MacKenna's Post agrees to exchange winter supplies for a forty percent ownership in..."

She glanced at Digger. "What's your claim number?"

He hurried over to the counter. "Ogilvy recorded it as fourteen A."

She penned that in then handed the receipt to Digger.

He took the linen scrap from her. Dirt seeped from his fingertips into the material, leaving a scalloped pattern of dull black smudges. "What's it say?"

"It says that this post is a forty-percent owner in claim number fourteen A, Eldorado."

"Most folks're chargin' fifty."

"I know. But forty's plenty for me. After all, you're doing all the work."

Pride puffed out Digger's scrawny chest. "I won't let you down, miss."

She smiled. "I know. Now," she said, clapping her hands together. "Let's get your grub together.

You've got work to do."

Long after Digger had gathered his things together and left the post, Devon was still smiling. If Stone Man heard that she was grubstaking miners, he'd hightail it home.

Fortunately Digger Haines just loved to talk.

* * *

Devon clamped her chattering teeth together. Shivering, she edged closer to the hot stove, her trembling fingers splayed above the sheet-metal top. The thought of taking off her woolen nightgown was positively repellent.

Unfortunately she had no choice. Men depended on the post's hours. Grimacing, she whipped off her nightgown and hurriedly donned four layers of wool; stockings, vest and drawers, underskirt, and overskirt. Buttoning up her boucle jersey, she strode briskly to the door and peeked outside, gathering in a glance the information she needed.

After a fortifying sip of coffee, she sat down at the table and began to write.