The hot day slowly drug by. If Bordeaux was around, he kept out of sight. Maybe he was angry, or maybe he was busy scouting. A horse and rider could cover more distance in a day that the mules could pulling the heavy freight wagons. Pete said a freight wagon the size of theirs would normally only travel ten to twelve miles a day, but the seats he had put in for the riders reduced the weight they could carry. He was proud of the fifteen or more miles his freighters could travel in a day.

Sweat stung her eyes and she wiped her face with her sleeve. It would be nice to get away from the wagons for a while. Wherever Bordeaux was, he was probably more comfortable than the rest of them.

That evening, she climbed from her wagon and beat the dust from her clothes with her hat. Being first in line one day meant being last in line the next. She lifted her canteen from the wagon and took a mouthful. She swished it around in her mouth to wash out the sand and then spit. Dampening her scarf, she closed her eyes and wiped most of the dust from her face.

Something dropped on the ground beside her and she opened her eyes. She screamed and jumped back before she realized the snakes were dead. Bordeaux sat on his horse, looking genuinely surprised at her reaction. She glared up at him.

"Bordeaux," She said through clenched teeth. "If you throw one more dead animal at my feet, I'm going to beat you over the head with it."

He lifted one brow. "Thanks for the warning." His mouth twisted into a wry grin. "I'll see if I can find a deer next time."

She eyed the snakes distastefully. "What did you do with that scorpion this morning - go back and eat it?"

His grin broadened. "Naw, it was burned to a crisp by the time I uncovered it."

She stared up at him. "What next, lizards?"

His eyes twinkled with the very devil. "Funny you should mention that. I caught one today, but he got away when his tail broke off."

She shuddered. "You're disgusting."

He folded his hands over the saddle horn and gazed down at her. "I take it you don't want to fix those snakes."

"If you want me to cook them, you'd better clean them up so they don't look like snakes."

She nudged them closer to him with the toe of her boot. His horse snorted and took a step back.

"See," she teased. "Even your horse has better sense than you do."




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