She spun toward him, an astonished expression on her face, hands on hips. “Lord, Cutter! You don’t even know that much? I—I don’t know… I don’t think I should just let you take her—let me talk to her first.”
Cutter shrugged and raised Elizabeth’s head. “Be my guest.”
Jo’s expression remained incredulous as she stepped around Cutter and shook Elizabeth’s shoulder gently. “Elizabeth…”
Elizabeth let out a dainty sigh, then settled more snugly against Cutter’s back, and Jo jiggled her shoulder a little harder. “Liz,” she coaxed, “wake up, dear.” She slapped Cutter’s shoulder in frustration. “All right, what did you give the poor girl?”
“Not a damned thing,” Cutter assured her. “The woman just can’t hold her liquor, is all. Now, let her be, and go fetch me that ring, please.”
“Elizabeth!” Jo persisted. At last Elizabeth opened one eye with great effort. “Elizabeth... Cutter wants to—”
“Cutter?” Elizabeth sighed, rubbing her cheek against Cutter’s vest.
“Yes, Cutter! He wants to—”
“Mmmmmmhhhh,” she murmured, snuggling contentedly. “Cutter... izh soooo warm,” she concluded with a dreamy sigh. Her head lolled to one side and she closed her eye, ending their one-sided conversation once and for all.
Grinning, Cutter pivoted toward his frustrated sister, a gleam in his eyes. “Satisfied?”
Jo shrugged.
“Now, about that destination?”
“Why should I tell you?” Jo asked. “Seems to me, brother dear, that if Elizabeth had wanted you to know, she’d have told you herself.”
His eyes bore into hers, willing her compliance. “If you don’t say, I’ll just go anyway... and probably waste good time riding in the wrong direction. Besides, Jo, I think you care about the gal, and I know you don’t want her hiring the likes of Dick Brady—or some other bounder.”
“Why don’t you just wait until tomorrow?” Jo asked reasonably. “I’ll talk to her. She’ll listen to reason if I—”
“Because she’s mule-headed, Jo. I can see it in her eyes. She’ll say no, and then she’ll turn around and hire Brady. Better me than him, don’t you think?”
Jo sighed with resignation. “You’re right—as usual. But this time I think you’re takin’ on more than you know.”
He chuckled.
Jo shook her head. “You’re laughing now,” she apprised him. “But she’s gonna be real mad, Cutter. You don’t know Liz like I do. She’s stubborn, but aside from that, she’s got the damnedest temper I’ve ever seen. She’s had to survive since her daddy’s passin’. But,” she interjected, “if you’re so all-fired determined, then it’s St. Louis you’re off to—just let me run upstairs and pack a few of my things for her. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into,” she said before leaving him alone with Elizabeth.
Cutter wasted no time contemplating his sister’s warning, nor in getting Elizabeth outside. He waited no more than ten minutes before Jo finally slipped out the back door, her arms laden.
Seeing that he was already mounted and had his hands full, she placed her contributions into his saddle pockets, stuffing them full: foodstuffs, an extra canteen, and a few other indispensables.
“Her spectacles are in there.” Jo said, indicating the saddlebags. “I found them on my desk. But I couldn’t find any clothes I thought she would wear—just a blouse—and there’s a bit of money, too. I know you don’t need it,” she said, before he could protest. “But you never can tell. Just give it to Elizabeth. I owe her, anyhow.” She looked up at her brother. “Just for the record... I’ve thought about it upstairs, and I’m sure you’re doin’ the right thing. It just took me by surprise, is all. If you hadn’t volunteered, I think I would have asked you anyway.”
He smiled faintly, giving her a nod. “I suspected as much.”
Jo’s eyes misted; she hated the fact that she’d spent so little time with her brother. But Elizabeth needed him more at the moment. She accepted that fact... yet it had been so long since she’d seen Cutter, and he was the only family she had, the only one who’d ever cared for her. Their father had left what little he’d earned as a trapper to Cutter, and Cutter had used every penny of it on her. For the Oasis. She loved him fiercely for it.
But he would be back, she knew. “Take care, little brother.” Patting his buckskin-covered knee affectionately, she stepped back, relatively composed, her fingers toying with the fringe of his pant leg. She shook her head wistfully. “You always have to wear at least one tellin’ piece: britches, vest, something, and it just makes you look more... well, Indian.” She gave him a pleading look. “I swear, Cutter, if you would only wear normal clothes, no one would ever know.”
“Jo.”
It was just one curt word, but it said a multitude. Jo would have gone on, but it wouldn’t have done any good. The discussion was over as far as Cutter was concerned. She knew that he didn’t like the fact that she’d turned her back so completely on their heritage, but he respected her decision. She had to respect his—even if it meant he might get a bullet in the back someday. There were just too many folks who didn’t deal respectfully with “breeds.”
Cutter didn’t flaunt his heritage, and he didn’t look blatantly Indian either. He just seemed to need that small act of defiance. Well, she consoled herself, at least he didn’t look too out of place. Many men of Anglo descent wore buckskin, the difference being, they weren’t part “Injun,” and didn’t take a risk just by wearing it.
“I’ll wire St. Louis,” she offered. And then her expression turned suddenly grave. “And don’t lose my ring!” Glancing down, almost wistfully, at the shiny silver object she held between her fingers, she thrust it abruptly into his hand.
Without looking at it, Cutter slipped the band into his pocket, his jaw taut. He hadn’t counted on the anger he’d feel just seeing the thing again. “See you soon,” he said, adjusting his hat brim. Then, forcing the harshness from his expression, he gave his sister a wink.
