Savage. Part 52

That last was an ornery thing to say, but it plucked a laugh out of me. I locked my arm around Jesse's head and clamped it tight and gave her a few gentle punches in the belly. Then she slipped her head free, flung herself against me and bowled me over sideways. I didn't struggle much except to swing my boots clear of the fire. While I concerned myself with that, she got me onto my back and straddled me. With her knees, she pinned my arms to the ground. I was still laughing, spite of her weight on my chest.

"I always knew I could take you," Jesse gasped.

"You've got me."

"Yup." She gave a bounce that made the air grunt out of me. "Gotcha right where I want you."

"Delighted to be here," I said.

At that, she backhanded my face. Not so much a slap as a pat. "Don't get crude, Trevor."

"I meant nothing crude. Not at all."

She fetched my face another whap, a bit harder than the last. "Did too."

"You're the one that's put me between your legs!"

"Ah-ha!" She whacked me again.

So I kicked up my legs, swinging them up till I hooked her shoulders with my boots, and flung her backward. She let out a whuff when she slammed the ground. I scurried up right quick, knocked her knees out of my way, and dropped down flat atop her. She squirmed under me, laughing fit to bust.

Instead of pinning her arms, I used my hands to dig into her sides. She fairly squealed. She bucked and thrashed and grabbed at my hands, trying to hold them off.

"Quit!" she blurted between her squeals. "You quit!"

"Gotcha right where I want you!"

"I mean it! Quit, now! 'Fore I bust a seam!"

"Have at it."

"Trevor! I'm gonna wet!"

So I quit. Jesse spent a while giggling and gasping underneath me, but she finally settled down.

By and by, she said, "It's downright mean, tickling a body."

"Meaner than slapping?"

"I didn't hurt you."

"I didn't hurt you, either."

"You dang near split my gut."

"Shall we call it even, then?"

"Give me a kiss."

Well, that suited me. So I lowered my mouth to hers, fixing to kiss her real sweet, and she gave my lip a nip.

"Ow! b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l!"

"Now, we're even."

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l! You bit bit me!" me!"

"Ain't the first time."

I licked my lower lip and tasted blood. "You made me bleed!"

Smiling, she nodded. "Don't fret about it none. I ain't got the rabies. Not as I know about, leastwise. Did I ever tell you about that feller down El Paso way that...?"

"You told me."

"Let me kiss your hurt and make it better."

"And give you another go at chewing on me?"

"I said said we're even. Don't you trust me?" we're even. Don't you trust me?"

"You've got some mighty peculiar ways about you, Jesse."

"That may be. But we're pardners, ain't we? You can't trust your pardner, who can can you trust." you trust."

"Do you promise not to bite?"

"Word of honor."

So I eased my face down toward hers, not quite knowing what to expect. What she did, she slipped out her tongue and licked the blood off my lip. Then she raised her head off the ground and kissed me, just as soft and gentle as you please.

Pretty soon after that, I rolled off her. We lay on our sides, holding each other.

I felt ever so peaceful and contented. But it didn't last. Before long, I took to feeling all hollow and achy inside. This was to be our last night on the trail. Tomorrow, we'd be riding into Tombstone. No matter what else might happen, it would mean the end of our times together in the wilderness. Our times alone, just her and me.

It would all be over.

Things would be different, starting tomorrow, and I didn't want that at all.

I might never again find myself stretched out on the ground by a campfire, holding Jesse in my arms.

It gave me the fantods, thinking about such things.

And it didn't make a lick of sense, really. We'd still be together in Tombstone. But I couldn't shake it out of my head that our fine times together were just about over.

I squeezed Jesse tighter, and she did the same to me.

"It'll be all right," I whispered.

"Glad you think so."

"Still fretting about Sarah?"

"It ain't only just her."

"Whittle?"

"I just don't want to lose you," she said. "I've got me some bad feelings about tomorrow."

"We don't need to go in straight away," I said, and suddenly felt like whooping with joy." We won't go in at all We won't go in at all! We'll head on somewhere else. Perhaps we'll have a go at Tucson."

Jesse's fingers curled into my back. "I don't know," she murmured, but I could tell she liked the notion. "What about Sarah? What about Whittle?"

"They aren't likely there, anyhow." Even as I said that, I realized I didn't quite believe it. I was lying to myself, lying to Jesse. They might might be in Tombstone. And I realized then that Sarah and Whittle were the two reasons I wanted no truck with that town. The be in Tombstone. And I realized then that Sarah and Whittle were the two reasons I wanted no truck with that town. The only only reasons, when it came smack to the truth. "I want nothing to do with either of them," I said. "I want nothing to do with anyone except you, actually." reasons, when it came smack to the truth. "I want nothing to do with either of them," I said. "I want nothing to do with anyone except you, actually."

"Oh, Trevor," she murmured, and brushed her cheek against mine. "You can't just let on they don't exist. I can't either. We've gotta face 'em. Might as well be tomorrow, if that's what's meant to be."

"If it's meant to be, then there's no call to go rus.h.i.+ng after them."

"It don't seem right."

"Do you want want to go into Tombstone tomorrow?" to go into Tombstone tomorrow?"

I felt her head shake.

"It's settled, then."

Jesse didn't say anything for a while after that, and I thought she might be asleep. But then she raised her face off me and brushed her lips against my mouth and whispered, "I sure do love you, Trevor Wellington Bentley."

"Not as much as I love you, Jesse Sue Longley."

"That so?"

"That's so."

"Well, at least you didn't sell me to the German."

Then she kissed me again and pretty soon I rolled so she was stretched out on top of me, the way we'd taken to sleeping every night since the flood. We lay still, not saying anything more. All my bad feelings had gone away, dragged off by my decision to stay shut of Tombstone. I heard the fire crackling and popping, heard a coyote howl off in the distance, heard Jesse's breathing close to my ear. Before you know it, I was asleep.

In the morning, we had us one more discussion about Tombstone. Jesse wondered if we ought to go on in just long enough to outfit ourselves with another horse, some equipment and supplies. I allowed as how such things would make our trip a sight easier. We'd only need to spend an hour or two in town, then we could be on the trail again.

We agreed to do it.

Jesse mounted on General, me walking, we made our way around the rise and headed for Tombstone. Going straight toward where we'd decided to avoid.

Even though neither of us wanted to go there.

We'll only be in town for a bit, I told myself. Even if Sarah is is there, seemed likely we wouldn't run into her. And Whittle, he'd probably hightailed the night he killed the Clemons women. there, seemed likely we wouldn't run into her. And Whittle, he'd probably hightailed the night he killed the Clemons women.

In my head, though, it worked out otherwise.

In my head, we no sooner started down the main street of town than Sarah popped out of a doorway and her eyes lit on me. All surprised and joyful, she called out my name and ran to me and threw her arms around me. Wept and lavished kisses on my face as Jesse looked on. So then I had to shove her off me and say something like, "Stop it, Sarah. Please. I'm afraid another woman has..." Just what would would I say? If she was there, it meant she hadn't given up on me. It meant she still wanted me for herself. Whatever I might say or do, short of giving up Jesse (not a chance of that), was bound to give her loads of pain. I wanted no part of such a scene. I say? If she was there, it meant she hadn't given up on me. It meant she still wanted me for herself. Whatever I might say or do, short of giving up Jesse (not a chance of that), was bound to give her loads of pain. I wanted no part of such a scene.

Nor did I want a showdown with Whittle. Not in the streets of Tombstone, not with Jesse nearby where he might get ahold of her. Much as I told myself he was long gone, I knew there was a chance he might be there. Maybe he'd found himself a job, or maybe he was living high and mighty off the loot he'd stolen from the True D. Light. True D. Light.

My common sense told me he wouldn't be there. For that matter, he might not even have been the bloke who murdered the Clemons women. Sarah wouldn't be there either.

That's what my common sense said.

But my stomach told me different.

We were on the trail leading into Tombstone for near a mile when I finally said, "Hold up, there, Jesse."

She halted General and turned her head toward me.

"This isn't at all where I want to go," I said.

"I ain't looking forward to it much, myself."

"So then, why are we doing it?"

She shrugged her shoulders. Then her face lit up with a big smile. "How many days to Tucson, you reckon?"

"Long as it takes."

She turned General around.

We put our backs to Tombstone.

I quickened my pace to catch up, and felt like I was leaving all the grief of the world behind me. I felt so chipper that I actually ran for a while, and left Jesse behind until she put her boots to General and trotted up beside me.

"Don't go and wear yourself out," she said.

"It's a grand morning! Smas.h.i.+ng!"

It sure is peculiar how things work out. If we'd gone on into Tombstone that day, we would've missed Barney Dire. We might've avoided Whittle altogether.

Instead, by turning away from town, we started down a path that would lead us straight into Whittle's lair.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT.

Apache Sam "h.e.l.lo the fire!" came the voice out of the darkness.