the LEGEND of She-Cat

Chapter Twenty One

It smelled like coffee and bacon. He was warm, comfortable despite his pain, and Duncan blinked open his eyes. The cabin, a single glance told him it was a mining shack, was one room, a lit stove and table in one corner, the bed, and a makeshift dresser in the other. Then he remembered. Shree's claim shack, and the miserable two days he'd spent clinging to the saddle, sick and in pain. Voices came in from outside, muffled through the walls. The frame creaked as he slowly sat up and the voices stopped, footsteps sounding before the door eased open.

It was Shree, and catching sight of him she smiled, coming in.

"So, ya finally got tired of sleepin'."

"Thought I was dead," he retorted amiably. "'Til my belly started rubbin' a blister on my backbone."

"Grub's easy enough to make. Want coffee?" At his look, she giggled. "Course ya do. Only a dead man don't want coffee."

"Thanks, Shree," he replied quietly. "Thanks for helping."

Her dark eyes stayed on him for a long minute, then she threw him a coy smile.

"I ain't runnin' no charity. Ya owe me, Handsome. I'll collect."

His lips twitched, but Duncan had no thought of encouraging her, and so controlled it.

"Hartman?"

"Word is he's spittin' mad, but still in Wildwood. Burned my place, thanks to ya boys. You'll owe me for that...too."

"A man only has so much," he warned, but she wagged a finger at him.

"A man is what I reckon ya are...a man who pays his debts." Her meaning was clear, so Duncan chose silence as his answer. Shree thankfully didn't push the issue right then, and soon came over with a plateful of beans, bacon, pan biscuits, and a steaming cup of coffee. He dug in, and she sat silent, watching until he emptied the plate, then refilled his cup of coffee.

"Where's Nash?"

"On watch. Ya don't stay out here, eatin' my food unless ya earn your keep." Her hand rested deliberately on his knee, but Duncan didn't brush it off. Civilized interaction and proper etiquette were things he'd spent his recent years with no use for. It didn't occur to him now to be bothered by her touch.

"How long you reckon 'til Hartman comes lookin'?"

"No ya don't." Shree's tone was firm. "I won't have no war fought on my claim! I lost my eatin' house already, I won't lose this place too! I worked too hard to build it!"

"He'll be easier to take if he's on our ground, not his."

"No." She met him with a hard glare. "I got ya outta jail, in return ya kill him, but not here."

"I won't let him hurt you-"

"Ya got cotton in your ears, Handsome? I'm not riskin' my mine! I can take care of myself, and have since I was sixteen! Hartman comes near this place, ya won't have time to start nothin'. My boys got orders to kill him."

"Then what are you worried about?" He countered with a grin. "You got the firepower to back you, you won't lose anything."

Her lips closed in a thin line, realizing she'd fairly trapped herself, but Shree was stubborn and smart. A calculating glint appeared in her eyes, her hand sliding to his inner thigh as it traveled up his leg. He caught her wrist just short of his zipper and they stared at each other. She noticed that he hadn't pushed her hand away from him, merely stopping her from going further.

"Ya ain't a man embarrassed by a woman's attention," she told him boldly, and he slowly shook his head. "So, unless ya wanna settle with me some other way, Handsome, I expect ya to hold up your end of our bargain. I think ya foxed me with that yarn about Bull plannin' to make a move on my place, but really, I ain't so certain I care anymore. He's made me mad, an' he's gettin' too dangerous to let roam free. Kill him. Ya just kill him."