Only 06 - Winter Fire

passel of bullets. Them cartridges just up and hit the trail all by theirselves.”
    Conner snickered.
    Sarah gave Ute a sideways look. His straight gray hair, narrow dark eyes, and high cheekbones should have belonged to a prophet or a priest.
    Instead they belonged to an old outlaw who would kick over a beehive just to enjoy the hullabaloo that followed.
    â€œIf you must bait the Culpeppers,” she said to him, “don’t take Conner with you.”
    Ute looked down at his dusty moccasins. Only Sarah had the ability to make him feel sheepish. He was convinced that she was a gray-eyed angel of mercy put on earth to remind sinners like himself of what goodness was.
    As far as he was concerned, there could have been no other reason that she would have saved his worthless life.
    â€œYes’m,” he said.
    â€œI mean that, Ute.”
    â€œYes’m.”
    â€œBut sis, they’re—” Conner began.
    â€œHush,” she interrupted. “You listen to me, both of you. Stay away from Spring Canyon.”
    â€œBut they’re hunting Hal’s treasure,” Conner said. “Really hunting it, quartering the canyons the way you do.”
    A chill of anxiety went through Sarah.
    That Spanish silver is Conner’s future , she thought. I have to find it first .
    Abruptly she scattered the rest of the corn on the ground. Then she turned away from the bustling, pecking chickens and headed back for the cabin with long strides.
    The men followed at a quickstep.
    â€œSis?”
    â€œLet the outlaws hunt,” she said. “They won’t find the treasure. They don’t know the canyons like I do.”
    There was more hope than certainty in her voice. Since the Culpeppers and Moody’s Breeds had come to the wilderness of stone buttes and mazelike canyons, her treasure hunting time had been reduced to a few stolen hours.
    Since Case had come into her care, she hadn’t found time to look for treasure at all. Between nursing him, keeping an eye on Conner and Ute, and taking care of her normal chores, she had enough work for three women.
    â€œAny eggs?” she asked Conner.
    â€œSix fresh. Some others that will be chicks.”
    â€œThey won’t make it through the winter. You should have been gathering eggs for us to eat instead of playing pranks on outlaws.”
    â€œGhost will watch out for those chicks better than any mother hen,” Conner said.
    Sarah gave her brother a look that he ignored. In silence they approached the cabin.
    â€œWhat about it?” he asked her after a moment.
    â€œWhat about what?” she asked.
    â€œCase,” Conner said, disgusted. “It will do him good.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œOh, c’mon, don’t be a—”
    â€œNo,” she interrupted flatly.
    â€œWhy don’t you ask me?” Case said. “I’m of age.”
    She made a startled sound and spun toward the cabin.
    Case was standing in the doorway, fully clothed from hat to boots. A six-gun was holstered around his lean hips. There wasn’t a crutch in sight.
    He looked dangerous.
    â€œYou found your clothes,” she said weakly.
    It was the only thing she could think of to say.
    â€œThank you for cleaning and mending them,” he said. “I can barely find where the bullet holes were.”
    â€œYou’re welcome. But if you do what Conner and Ute want, you won’t need them.”
    â€œNo man needs bullet holes,” Case said dryly.
    Conner laughed, then coughed to conceal it.
    She flushed. Since that tangled moment when Case had plastered her against the cabin wall and frightened her with his blunt male hunger—and then apologized in a way that made her tingle just to remember it—he had treated her as if he were the blood kin she had asked for.
    I need an older brother like you. Want to adopt me?
    Sometimes she was grateful for his casual manner. Most often, she was irritated without knowing why.
    Yet, when he thought she was too busy changing his bandages to notice, he had a way of giving her a veiled look that made her cheeks burn.
    Just as they were burning now.
    What’s wrong with me? she asked herself angrily. I asked for an older brother and I got it. Teasing and all .
    Hallelujah .
    Yet somehow she didn’t feeling like rejoicing.
    â€œI was referring to your clothes,” she said remotely, “not bullet holes.”
    â€œAre you planning on stealing them