Fire and Ice Read online

  She had known all right. She’d tried to homestead inside the canyon when she was scouting for a likely spot to claim and had seen that beautiful grass. She’d found out Coulter owned it the first minute she’d asked.

  And then she’d asked about the trail into the canyon, and lo and behold, it was unclaimed.

  “You may be a bur under my saddle, Miss Wilde, but I can tell a shrewd rancher when I see one. I know how good a shot you are, too. A man don’t get shot at nearly every day for two weeks and not learn if the one doing the shooting knows where to put her bullets. Just from walking through your herd this once, I can see it’s well tended. Your cabin’s solid and true, and Shannon and Kylie told me you helped build theirs.”

  Bailey was strangely warmed by his compliments. It was an odd feeling to be flattered and want to punch a man at the same time. It was so confusing to hold both feelings at once . . . her skin was getting a little itchy.

  “Of all the poor folks struggling to survive in this rugged land as homesteaders, you’re one who’s suited to living out here, and I can see you’ve got the know-how to make it as a rancher. That means you’re smart enough to know you were moving your cattle in where there’d been a good-sized herd. Hundreds of cattle leave plenty of sign. ’Tweren’t no accident you staked your claim on this rocky stretch of wasteland like you did, and built this cabin right over the mouth of the canyon. And I don’t rightly believe you had your head in the clouds enough not to hear whose canyon it was, either. The land agent is your brother-in-law; he’d know I owned it.”

  “I claimed it before Aaron came along.”

  “Then the land agent before him knew, and don’t you bother denying it. You built here deliberately so that I couldn’t get back in with my herd.”

  The land agent had known what she was doing, but he didn’t have a right to tell her she couldn’t homestead on unclaimed land. “I—”

  “Don’t protest your innocence.” Coulter made a chopping wave with his hand. “It insults us both.”

  Bailey glared at him. She’d had no intention of protesting her innocence. She’d planned to throw her knowledge right back in his face. Now she waited. Knowing what was coming.

  “What I want to know, Miss Wilde, is—”

  “Just call me Bailey. I’m not Miss Wilde.”

  “Sure you are.”

  “It’s Bailey. If you know I’m a woman, then fine, there’s nothing to be done about it. But I don’t want the whole world to know, so stop calling me Miss. You’re doing it to torment me now, but I don’t want you to get in the habit.” Bailey leaned forward. “Not that I plan to spend much time talking to you. But if you can really get your cattle in the canyon, then you and your men will be in there working. I don’t want them all knowing I’m a woman.”

  “For the love of heaven, why not?”

  “I just don’t.”

  “Well, that’s just stupid.”

  “And don’t call me stupid.” Bailey’s eyes went to her rifle.

  Coulter laughed again.

  She didn’t want to shoot him . . . well, maybe a little. But one good solid butt stroke across the head, that she might enjoy. “Men act different towards a woman.”

  “As true as summer following spring, that’s no great piece of news.”

  “They pester them. They think women want attention and help.”

  “If you ever needed any help, my men and I would—”

  “Shut up!” Bailey slashed a hand at him. Not a butt stroke, but the best she could do. “You see what I mean? Men think a woman wants them to come a-courting.”

  “Most women do.”

  “Well, I don’t. I want none of that. No matter what I say, no man is going to believe I just want to run my ranch, my way, alone. But they’ll believe a young man would do such a thing. So don’t tell them I’m a woman. And keep them away from me so they don’t find out. And I don’t care how steep that canyon trail is, you’re using it every time you come in and out. Not a one of you is crossing on my land.”

  Coulter folded his arms on the table and watched her, his expression dark and intent as if he wanted to see inside her head and figure her out.

  She sincerely hoped he couldn’t. “Well, can you do that? Keep my secret?”

  “How many cattle are you going to have to sell if you don’t have that canyon?”

  “Answer my question.”

  “Answer mine.”

  It made Bailey furious to answer his, because she didn’t want to sell a single one. She’d done a good job of building her herd, better than she’d dared hope. She had over fifty head in less than a year. She’d bought cattle from folks who were selling out and heading back east. She’d rounded up some longhorns she’d found running wild. She’d bartered and pinched pennies and babied her cows so that every calf survived. And now she didn’t have the land to support them.

  Coulter didn’t wait. “I’d say half are going to have to go. I’ve had a good look at your land with all my visits over here to try and talk to you. You’ve got a few good pastures and plenty of heavy forestland, too. I’ll buy twenty-five head.”

  “No!” She shoved herself to her feet. “I’d rather do business with the devil himself.”

  Another laugh. When there wasn’t one thing funny about any of this. The only thing keeping her from grabbing a gun was the plain bald fact that she wasn’t a killer, which sometimes was just a shame.

  Also, he probably wouldn’t let her.

  “When you calm down and quit saying stupid things, consider selling me half your herd.”

  Bailey curled her knuckles on the table and leaned forward. “The next time you call me stupid, I’m going to shut your mouth with my fist.”

  Coulter stood. He was about six inches taller than she was and outweighed her by seventy or eighty pounds. He probably wouldn’t punch her back, though, now that he knew she was female, so she might get away with one good hit.

  “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

  “You’ve called me stupid twice.”

  “I happen to think you’re one of the smartest nesters to come into these mountains. Maybe the best one I’ve seen. So when I hear you say something stupid, I have to wonder about it. Seems to me a smart woman like you must have a reason for most everything she does. Not wanting me to tell my men you’re a woman so they won’t pester you, I don’t see why you can’t just tell them to move along. My men are decent. They don’t harass a woman who wants to be left alone. And you’d rather do business with the devil himself than me? I suspect that’s not a wise thing to say, but it does tell me you’ve got a powerful dislike burning for me, and I’m not real sure why. Except of course because you stole my land, but that doesn’t strike me as fair. Nope, I don’t think it’s all about me wanting my canyon back, and I don’t think it’s about not wanting my men to know you’re female. So what is it about, I wonder? There’s a lot about you that don’t make sense.”

  Again, Bailey felt her hands curl into fists.

  Coulter glanced down and noticed, and his lips twitched into a smile. “I know what you’re thinking. And no, I wouldn’t hit a woman. But I wouldn’t stand here and let you get in a punch, either. And something tells me blocking one of your swinging fists might just end up with us in a wrestling match.”

  Coulter leaned closer, much closer, and suddenly Bailey knew better than to punch him. A wrestling match was a bad idea.

  “I think that ending up in a clinch with me might be about the worst idea either one of us ever had.” He towered over her, almost like he was asking her to take a swing at him. Almost like he wanted to wrestle—end up in a clinch. Something strange twisted deep inside her. She had no idea what it was, only that it scared her right down to the pointed toes of her boots.

  He leaned a bit closer. “Or maybe it’d be the best.”

  Another second passed as those light-gray eyes—that should have been cold—burned into hers.

  “You’ve got eyes like your baby sister’s, exc
ept more colorful like blazing gold, and hot enough to brand a man. Prettiest things I’ve ever seen.” When he said that, she thought for a second he was going to lean closer still. Then he shook his head as if to clear it of whatever nonsense was going on in there, straightened, and headed for the door. He turned his back on her then, as if not caring that she was within grabbing distance of an arsenal.

  When he opened the door he spun around, and those too-pale eyes locked on hers. “I’m going to stop calling you stupid. I apologize for that. Instead, Bailey”—he stressed her first name; no “Miss Wilde” this time—“every time you say something that strikes me as stupid, I’m going to ask myself, What is that little fire-eyed woman up to now?”

  He stepped out the door, but just before he swung it shut, he seemed to look all the way inside where he could see secrets she’d never told anyone. “I’d advise you to get some sleep. My dynamite will blow you wide awake come morning.” Then he slammed the door and was gone—taking her beautiful canyon home with him.

  A home where she’d held her safety in her own two hands. A home where she’d obeyed no man, saluted no man, taken no orders. On her own land she’d never again be forced to stand silent before madness.

  With a single slammed door, he closed away the dream she’d thought was within her grasp ever since she’d seen this canyon and dreamed of building a vast herd to fill it.

  She turned down the lantern, staggered over to her bed, and collapsed onto her back without taking her boots off.

  Was there any way to stop him? Where was he coming into the canyon? She should have asked. She knew the canyon well, inside and out, and couldn’t imagine anywhere a trail could be cut.

  Could she fight him? Trick him? Her mind churned like the muddy waters of the Mississippi in August. She couldn’t think of a plan, but she did decide that whatever he had planned, she wasn’t just going to sit here wringing her hands and let him have his way.

  There was no reason in the world she had to make it easy for him.

  With that, she decided he was right. She needed to get some rest, because she was going to have to beat him to the blasting site in the morning. And that was going to take some scouting because she didn’t even know where to look.

  3

  You’re going to drive your cattle up here?” Bailey stepped out on the trail as Gage rode up.

  How early had the little pest gotten up to find where he was working? Gage reminded himself, and not for the first time, never again to underestimate her.

  She’d come down on the side of the canyon right where Gage was planning to blast. It wasn’t fit to ride on and took a fair amount of mountain-climbing skills to walk down.

  Her voice was different. Completely female.

  She’d been disguising it when she shot at him, the little sneak. It was still a deep voice for a woman, slightly raspy, yet smooth enough to be worth listening to. “What did you plan to do if my men rode with me? They’d have seen you and known in a second you weren’t a man.”

  “I didn’t step out until I saw you were alone. If they were with you, I had plans to get you alone.”

  When she talked about getting him alone, Gage felt something reckless and primitive stir to life inside him. He’d never felt it before and it shocked him. At the same time he couldn’t believe how much he liked it. Strangest thing he’d ever felt, and he had no idea what it all meant or what to do about it. Probably a sign that Bailey Wilde was driving him completely out of his mind.

  He didn’t know much about women, but he knew this one was infuriating and fascinating, and when she wasn’t trying to kill him, he thought she was about the most interesting female he’d ever met.

  Oh, who was he tryin’ to fool? She was interesting when she was trying to kill him, too. Which made her a very hard package to handle. Not unlike the dynamite in his saddlebags.

  He planned to set the charges, blow them, check for loose rocks, and when things were settled, he’d let his men come in and clean up the rubble. It was risky work, and he wouldn’t ask any of his men to do it. Although a couple of them said they knew dynamite—especially Rowdy, his foreman.

  “You’re out of your mind if you think you can get a herd of cows up this trail.” She plunked her fists on her neat hips, and if Gage noticed that and looked too long . . . well, he’d just have to apply himself to getting his eyeballs under control.

  “The out-of-my-mind part might be right.” In the dim light of approaching dawn, Gage swung down off his stallion and ground-hitched him. He closed the distance between himself and Bailey. She wasn’t a big woman, no more than five and a half feet tall, and skinny. When he thought she was a young man, skinny might’ve been right, but now . . . maybe slender was a better word. He’d felt those curves for himself last night. Gage looked close to be sure he remembered right.

  “So forget the blasting, Coulter.”

  But he couldn’t just enjoy looking, not when the woman wouldn’t shut up.

  “Give it up and cut your herd,” she said. “You’ve got plenty of land. You don’t need this canyon.”

  She wore no hat; maybe she’d lost it in the climb. Her hair was too short to be tied back, so tight curls less than an inch long danced on her head in the breeze. Those golden eyes glinted in the first rays of morning light. Shaking his head to get his thoughts in order, he knew whatever her size, she sure cast a big shadow, and that had nothing to do with the way the sun hit her.

  Was she just here to complain or was she up to something?

  “I own this canyon. But this summer I’ve learned the hard way that I’ve been mighty foolish about buying up land. I never dreamed homesteaders would want to settle in such a rugged place. They think they’re going to be farmers, till up the soil and get corn to grow, but this land won’t support crops. It’s for trees and grass and precious little else. And the seasons are too short for any crop I know. Now I’m working hard to buy up every piece I use that’s still available, and I’m waiting and watching for the nesters to come to their senses and figure out you can’t farm the side of a mountain. When they pull up stakes, I’ll buy up their claims. But this canyon is one of the prettiest stretches anywhere. Almost no trees. Perfect shelter from the wind. A stream that flows year round. I had the sense to buy it up right away.”

  “But not the sense to buy the land outside it,” Bailey said.

  “I need to go back to the land office first chance I get and see what other pieces of my land can be locked away from me this way.” Gage couldn’t think of any right now, but he’d better get smarter about such things.

  “You’re too late here, Coulter. You need to quit this madness, admit defeat and go home.” Bailey took one more step toward him as she sassed him, her little nose in the air. Those golden eyes catching the sun as if on fire. Not one speck afraid of him. That was probably a mistake on his part. He probably ought to figure out a way to make her afraid, yet he was downright proud of her for that streak of pure courage.

  “Admitting defeat isn’t my style, Bailey. I will get my cattle in here. I’ll do it if I have to reduce the entire Rocky Mountains to rubble. You know the Bible says every mountain and hill shall be made low. God may have to come in and finish that up, but I reckon I can go ahead and get started on it.”

  That tricked a smile out of her. She shook her head and looked around.

  A moment of less than rage. He knew it was a waste of breath, but he had plenty, so he went ahead and wasted it. “Why don’t you let me pay you a fair price to let my cattle cross on your land? My cows would walk across a few acres, then later walk out. Two crossings a year. I’d do my best to see that they did no damage, and if there was damage, I’d pay you what you thought it was worth.”

  “There’s no space. They’d wreck my yard, knock down my fences.”

  “They probably would.” She was giving him reasons—that wasn’t the same as just hollering no in his face. It gave him hope.

  “You positioned your yard and built fences to bl
ock the canyon for just this exact reason.” Her house covered as much of that canyon mouth as it could. The canyon was too wide, though, and Bailey’s house wasn’t grand. The mouth was probably more than fifty feet across, and she couldn’t shove the house right up against it or she wouldn’t be able get her own cattle in and out. There was a sturdy log fence stretching from the house to a barn off on the south side. No gate. Bailey had to tear a section of that fence down every time she wanted to get her cattle out.

  That wasn’t by chance. Nothing this woman did was by chance.

  “I’ll take your fence down and then I’ll put it back up. I’ll keep my cattle calm and do my best to send them through in singles or pairs. That way, they won’t bother a wide swath of your land.”

  “You ran your cattle over Kylie’s homestead. She had to fix all that damage herself.”

  “I didn’t even know she was there until I rode up behind my cattle. And she fixed it herself before I could offer.”

  Bailey sniffed at him as if she didn’t like his smell. A shame when he was just catching a faint womanly scent coming from her and liking it real fine.

  “And you saw how we handled things at Shannon’s. I rented use of her pasture and water. The fence I built gave her sheep plenty of room and kept them safe. I can do the same here if you want, except there’s one big difference.”

  “What’s that?” Bailey bristled at him like a little porcupine, and her eyes flashed fire so hot he thought she might’ve singed his cheeks.

  “I didn’t own your sister’s homestead. She had full rights to claim that land and water. I do own this canyon, however.”

  “And I own the land you want to cross on.”

  “True enough. But you can’t use all the grass in that canyon. Seems to me we could strike a fair bargain.” Gage figured they ought to trade straight up. She let him cross; he let her cattle stay and graze. He sure wished she’d get to that on her own because, tough talk aside, getting his cattle up this trail was going to be a killer.