"That damn horse is as spooky as a mustang," he said, rubbing his hand against his chest as though to remove the tactile memory of soft skin and delicate bone structure.
Janna blinked, wondering what had made Ty so irritable. She wished that he would put his hand beneath her chin again. His palm was warm and firm, his fingers were long and gentle, and it had been years since she had felt a comforting touch from another human being.
"Zebra is a mustang," Janna said huskily. "When she's not with me, she runs free."
iy s head turned toward the mare with renewed interest. He studied her carefully, especially her hooves. They had been trimmed by stony ground rather than by a pair of steel nippers. She was sleek without being fat, strong without being big. Nowhere did she show the marks of man-no brand, no ear notch, no shoes, no nibbed places on her hide where bridle or saddle had rested.
"Do you ride her?" he asked.
"Sometimes, when it's safe."
"When is that?"
"When Cascabel isn't around," Janna said simply. "He's been around a lot the past six months, which is why Zebra is so lonesome. I guess the Army is making life hard for Cascabel."
"Or Black Hawk is tired of being blamed for Cascabel's raids and is clamping down," Ty said. "Black Hawk is a war chief and a leader. Cascabel is a butcher and a raider. Hell, I'm surprised that renegade hasn't tracked you down and cooked you over a slow fire just for the sport of it."
Janna shrugged off the implicit question. She had no intention of telling Ty that to most Utes she was Shadow of Fire, una bruja, a witch who walked with spirits. Ty thought of her as a boy, which was both irritating and quite useful-especially as long as he was sitting around stark naked while she rubbed medicine into his cuts.
The renewed realization of Ty's nudity brought heightened color to Janna's cheeks. It took every bit of her willpower to keep her hands from trembling as she smoothed the herb paste over his skin.
Ty noticed the fine tremor in the slender fingers and swore under his breath.
"Sorry, boy. I didn't mean to scare you," he said gruffly. "Once we get free of Cascabel, I'll take you to the Army post at Sweetwater. You'll be safe there."
Janna shook her head and said nothing, concentrating on keeping her hands from revealing the uncertain state of her emotions.
"Don't be silly," Ty said. "You might have survived out here in the past, but it's different now. The Army has been fighting Black Hawk for nearly three years, since the end of the Civil War. They've had a bellyful of fighting Utes. There will be a big campaign before winter. The Army figures to have it all wrapped up by Thanksgiving and to have Cascabel's ears in the bargain. Between Black Hawk and the soldiers fighting each other, and Cascabel killing everything that moves, it won't be safe for man nor beast here, much less a boy who's as skinny as a willow switch."
"If it's so dangerous, why are you here?"
"Lucifer," Ty said simply. "I figured this was my best chance. Once the Utes are quiet, every man with an eye for prime horseflesh will be trying for that stallion. Even if no one gets him, sure as hell some money-hungry mustanger will put a bullet through his black head just to get at his colts." Ty looked at Zebra again. "He sired her, didn't he?"
"Yes."
"It shows in her long legs and well-shaped head. The barb blood in Lucifer comes through no matter what he breeds with. Does she run with his bunch?"
"Yes."
"How did you get close to her?"
Janna wiped her fingers on her pants as she looked critically at Ty's cuts. "Her mother was a runaway ranch horse. She liked salt and grain and human company. Zebra grew up with me petting her. There are others like her in Lucifer's bunch. They accept me. After a time, so do some of the true mustangs. I take care of their cuts and scrapes and scratch the places they can't reach, and they tell me when there are men around. That's how I've kept away from Cascabel. Lucifer can smell him a mile off."
"Does Lucifer let you pet him?" Ty asked intently.
"He's as wild as a storm wind," Janna said, not answering the question.
"So is that one," Ty said, looking at Zebra, "but she followed your trail like a tame old hound dog. Will the next horse through that gap be Lucifer?"
"No. I've survived by being inconspicuous. Anyone standing next to Lucifer would be as conspicuous as lightning."
Thunder belled suddenly, but Ty didn't look away from Janna's face.
"Have you ever tried to get close to Lucifer?"
"No."
"Why not? Is he a killer?"
Janna shrugged. "Wouldn't you try to kill a man who wanted to put you in a cage?"
"Horses have been bred by men for thousands and thousands of years. It's a partnership, like men and dogs."
"Not to a lot of men."
"Those same men are cruel to other men. I'm not. I don't fight for the pleasure of it, but to get the job done."
Janna looked at her knife, which Ty kept within easy reach at all times. She remembered how he had held the knife-as a weapon, not as a tool. There was no doubt in her mind that he could "get the job done" better than any man she had ever seen, except Cascabel.
The realization should have frightened her, for despite Ty's injuries he was far stronger than she was. Yet she was no more frightened of him than she was of Lucifer. In the past her instincts had proven to be very good at picking up the presence of senseless viciousness or cruelty; she sensed none in either Ty or the big black stallion so many men longed to own.
But what if I'm wrong this time? What if Ty is just another man greedy for whatever he can get from those weaker than he is?
There was no answer to Janna's silent question but the obvious one-if she took Ty to her private refuge and discovered there that she had been wrong about his essential decency, she would have made the worst mistake of her life.
And probably the last, as well.
Chapter Five
The sudden downpour of cold rain was like a blow. In spite of that, the rain was welcome, for it would wash away Ty and J anna's trail.
"Ready?" Janna asked.
Ty nodded grimly. He was still angry at having lost the battle of the shrinking blanket. Over his objections Janna had cut the blanket up into a breechcloth, bandages for his bruised ribs and a makeshift poncho. He hadn't objected to the breechcloth, had given in on the bandages, but had been damned if he would wear a blanket while a child ran around with no more protection against the thunderstorm than a ragged shirt and pants.
Yet here he was, wearing the blanket; and there the kid was, wearing only a shirt and pants.
"Stubborn as a Missouri mule," Ty snarled, but his words were drowned out by thunder.
Zebra took the lightning, thunder and pelting rain with the indifference of a horse born and raised out in the open. She watched with interest as Ty and Janna negotiated the rocky rubble at the head of the hollow. While the mustang wasn't completely relaxed around Ty, she no longer shied at his every movement.
It was a good thing. Ty made some very sudden movements as he clawed over the rockfall, hobbled by his injuries and the increasing slickness of the rocks. Though he said nothing, he was grateful that his ribs were bound, despite the fact that it made breathing deeply impossible. He was also grateful for the small, surprisingly strong hands that helped to lever him over the tricky places-although he had nearly yelped with surprise the first time he had received a firm boost from behind.
Janna passed Ty just beneath the crest of the rockfall. She motioned with her hand for him to wait. When he sank into a sitting position, she peered through a crevice between two rocks. All but the first two hundred feet of the slope was veiled in sheets of rain. In the stretch of land that she could see, nothing moved but rain itself. She turned and went back toTy.