Magnus’ mouth took on a mocking twist. “I hear you,” he drawled, readjusting his wad of tobacco before spitting it out. “I hear you, McKenzie.” He gave Elizabeth a bone-chilling sidewise glance. “Hafta wonder, miss, if you know who it is you’re keepin’ company with?” His gray eyes glittered with unconcealed malice as he took in her lamentable state of dress.
Elizabeth averted her gaze, and Magnus laughed harshly, the sound obscene. “Well, hell, darlin’, maybe you do,” he said cryptically.
There was no doubt in Elizabeth’s mind that the man was trouble, and she suddenly couldn’t wait to be away from him.
“Anyhow,” he carried on, “ain’t lookin’ for trouble with you, McKenzie. Happens we’re out hunting a pack of renegades. Raided a camp about thirty miles east of Fort Riley. Swiped some food and supplies.” He glanced again at Elizabeth, and the look he gave her raised the tiny hairs on the back of her neck. “Stuck one of my men as they were leaving,” he continued with loathing, tipping his head in the direction of the youth beside him. “O’Neill here spotted your smoke last night and... Well, anyhow, you ain’t them. Ain’t happen to’ve seen ‘em, have you?” There was unconcealed suspicion in his question, as though it really didn’t matter what Cutter said. He already clearly disbelieved him.
Cutter was silent a long moment.
“And what if I have?” Cutter asked casually, one brow lifting in challenge.
Magnus responded with a slow sneer. “Well then... I reckon you ought to say so.”
One side of Cutter’s lips lifted contemptuously. “Yeah?” His wintry smile crept into his eyes. “And you say they stuck an officer?” He hoped it was one of Magnus’ colleagues, and he found himself feeling sorry for the kid at Magnus’ side. Sulzberger knew the art of intimidation only too well. Likely he’d have the whelp dancing over bullets for his kicks and believing it was his lucky day for being able to do so.
“That’s right,” Magnus drawled.
Cutter gave him a nod. “Well, now, seems I do recall they went that way.” He pointed halfheartedly in the direction the Indians had, in fact, gone. “Came through yesterday, late afternoon. Four of ‘em.”
Elizabeth’s breath snagged, and her eyes widened. She couldn’t believe Cutter had actually given them away! Didn’t he realize what these vile men would do if they caught up with them? She didn’t find it so difficult to believe that the Indians had perhaps killed a man. They’d seemed perfectly capable, but for some strange reason, she felt connected to them, even grateful. And some little voice in the back of her mind told her that they wouldn’t have killed for sport, that it was perhaps hunger... or even revenge that had driven them, for even in Sioux Falls she had heard tales of Sand Creek. Still, she refrained from saying anything to refute Cutter, only because she knew it wouldn’t help matters even if she did.
Once again Magnus glanced her way, appraising her thoroughly, and his answering grin was malignant. “Much obliged,” he said curtly, never taking his scrutiny from Elizabeth. Then he turned his mount away, and back again. “Oh, and, McKenzie...”
Cutter didn’t respond, only sat back in the saddle and crossed his arms, watching the men before him with keen eyes.
“Reckon you ought to know... General Sully is looking for you.”
Cutter shrugged apathetically. “So let him look,” he replied tersely. “It ought to make you pretty happy when he doesn’t find me, Sulzberger.” And with that, he touched his hat brim in dismissal, spurring his mount closer to Elizabeth’s. Snatching her reins out of her hands, he turned his back to the gawking pair, and led her away without another word.
“Be seeing ya, now,” Magnus called after them, staring.
“If y’ say so,” Cutter responded without turning.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, for all that she tried, couldn’t tear her gaze away from the duo behind them. When the younger man touched the smooth butt of his revolver, she tensed, and started to scream out a warning, but Cutter eyed her sternly.
Elizabeth stiffened, and Cutter said, again without turning. “Draw that gun up out of there, Blue-boy... and you’d better be prepared to use it.”
Astonished that he had known, and dazed by the peculiar exchange she had witnessed, Elizabeth lagged behind and turned to look at his back with something akin to awe and then again to the disgruntled pair behind them. Magnus gave the younger man a vigorous shake of his head, and the youth immediately abandoned his revolver, muttering an inaudible curse.
“How’d the bloody son of a bitch know?” Elizabeth heard him ask.
“Savage in him,” Magnus replied sourly, spurring his mount in the exact opposite direction Cutter had indicated. “Last man to underestimate him ended up with a .44 between his baby blues—but don’t you worry none, O’Neill, he’ll come into his own someday. Real soon—damned redskin-lovin’ deserter!” With that declaration, he cast them a backward glance, smiling with promise at Elizabeth. Tipping his hat, he gaffed his mare.
When they finally disappeared from view, Elizabeth urged Cocoa up beside Cutter’s mount. “How did you know, Cutter?”
“With that look on your face?” Cutter shrugged. “It was evident someone was going after their gun. Sulzberger’s been round long enough to know better... That left little Blue-boy back there.” He shook his head. “Kid like that’s always rarin’ to show off his gun hand. Thing is, he’s like t’ end up six feet under before he ever shaves his first whiskers.”
He led her up the bluff, following the same path the Indians had taken, leaving the river at their backs. Again, Elizabeth lagged behind, musing about what he’d just revealed.
“No,” she said at last, catching up with him once more. “Not that. How did you know that those men would search in the opposite direction?”
Cutter adjusted his hat and sat back in the saddle to better see her. There was wonder in her eyes. He grinned engagingly. “Didn’t,” he admitted with a gleam in his eyes. “Never thought anyone could be so contrary that they wouldn’t believe God’s truth when they heard it... till I met you. Just took a gamble, and it paid off.”
Elizabeth gasped, her eyes widening at the affront. “Contrary! You are... are just... just...” She couldn’t find the words to describe him. What kind of man could make love to a woman and then insult her in the next breath? “The worst!”
Chuckling, Cutter responded, “That bad, huh?” And with that, he winked at her, turning his attention to the steep trail before them.
* * *
