“Well, I’m curious about what’s cooking in that pot.” He moved closer to her. “Maybe you could go hunting with me.”
“I can’t leave Pilar.”
“She can go with us. It’ll do her good to walk around some.”
“I don’t think so. I need to clean up around here and…”
Ty moved even closer to her, then put his hand to the side of her face. “Chris, please go with me. I promise I’ll behave. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
She took a step away from him. He could use that voice of his to make a person’s resolve melt. “I shouldn’t. I should…”
“Should what?” he asked, following her as she backed away.
“Chris!” Pilar called. “I’d love to get some exercise. Could you go with Ty for my sake?”
“I…I guess so,” she began, looking into Tynan’s smiling eyes. “But don’t you try anything,” she warned. “I’m not going to give into you.”
His eyelids lowered. “Sweetheart, I haven’t even asked you yet.”
After Tynan had eaten most of the stew Chris had cooked, he took his rifle, helped Pilar to stand and started up the little trail behind the cabin. Chris complained twice about his walking on his injured leg, but he just grinned at her.
“Remember the time you and the Chanry boys robbed that bank down in Texas and—” Pilar began.
“Robbed the bank?” Chris gasped. “Robbed a bank!”
Ty winked at Pilar. “She thinks I’m as clean as a new snow, that I’m innocent on all counts.”
“I’ve seen you shoot people. I took him to a picnic and he got into a fight with a man and the man got shot. On a church picnic, mind you.”
“Rory Sayers,” Ty said to Pilar as if that were answer enough.
“I never met anyone who was asking for it more,” Pilar said. “Ty, didn’t you have a garden up here when you were a boy?”
Chris trailed along behind the two of them and felt as if she’d just entered a party and she was the only one who didn’t know everyone. Pilar and Ty talked easily about things that were meaningless to her. They exchanged names of people and places, fantastic happenings such as repeated brushes with the law, shootouts, the names of outlaws she’d only read about.
At the top of the hill, Tynan moved some underbrush about until they saw a little clearing. “It was here,” he said, “and I planted carrots and potatoes and strawberries. The strawberries didn’t make it and the rabbits kept eating the tops of the carrots as soon as they grew above the ground. Look at this,” he said, holding up a rusty can that had been flattened. “One of my first targets. I used to practice up here for hours.”
“Not much else to do,” Pilar said. “Is the old man’s gold mine near here?”
“Not far, just along that trail.”
Pilar turned and started walking but Chris held back. Tynan went to her, and, before she could stop him, he put his arms around her. “Feeling a little lost?”
She pushed at him but he still held her. “Of course not.”
“We could tell Pilar to go away and you and I could go into the bushes. I know a place that was made for making love. It’s quiet, secluded, near a little stream and flowers grow there all summer long. Would you like to make love on a bed of flowers?”
“No I wouldn’t,” she said, but there wasn’t much conviction in her voice. “I don’t want to be any man’s woman of no morals.”
“Morals? What do morals have to do with making love? Chris, honey, I could make you feel so good. We could make each other feel good.”
She twisted away from him. “Leave me alone, Tynan. I’m not going to be one of your women and you’d better get used to the idea. I’m going to go home to my father and I just might stay there and marry some rancher and have a dozen or so children.”
“Who do you have in mind?” he asked angrily. “Prescott?”
“I’m sure Asher would make a fine husband and he has asked me and I just might say yes. What does it matter to you, anyway? You don’t want to be saddled with a wife and kids. You’ve made your choice and I’ve made mine, so what do you have to complain about?”
She could see the anger in his eyes.