Saddle Up by Victoria Vane

“Is it really worth all the trouble?” she asked.

“I guess that remains to be seen, doesn’t it?” His gaze held hers, making her wonder if they were still talking about the fruit.

“How do you get around the spines?” she asked.

“Easy. Like this.” He picked up her dropped fruit with his gloved hand and impaled it on the end of his knife. Squatting by the fire, he rolled it in the smoldering ashes. “See? It burns the spines off. Then you just peel and eat it like any other fruit.” He proceeded to do exactly that. Slicing through the skin of the fruit, he peeled it back and offered it to her.

She hesitated. “You’re sure it’s safe?”

“Yes. Almost all cacti are edible. Of course, you’re always welcome to the beef jerky instead.”

She curled her lip. “I hate that stuff. It’s like salty shoe leather.” She sniffed and then committed herself to a tiny nibble. It was both sweet and tart, cucumberish in consistency, with tiny seeds like a kiwi. Not too bad, actually.

“Well?” He cocked a brow, urging her to take more.

“It’s all right,” she admitted. Accepting it from his hands, she took a bigger bite. “Did you see any sign of our horses?”

“Yes. I found the carcass and our horses’ tracks.”

“How do you know they were ours?” she asked.

He eyed her levelly. “Wild horses don’t wear shoes, Miranda.”

“Duh.” She gave an embarrassed laugh. “I guess that was a really stupid question.”

“They were headed back in the direction of the base camp,” he continued. “If I’d been riding Little Bear, he would have come back to me, but this was only a borrowed horse.”

“Little Bear? Was he the one you were riding in California?” she asked.

“Yes. He served me well for many years, so I finally retired him. He now has the job of pleasuring the mares on my grandfather’s ranch.”

She laughed. “I can think of a worse life. Don’t you miss him?”

“Every day. But he has a new life now, as do I.” He began burning the spines off another cactus fruit. “The lion will be back,” he said. “They usually take several days to devour a kill. I’d recommend we don’t hang around here any longer than we have to.”

“What should we do?” she asked.

“We can either wait a couple of hours to see if Dave and Donny show up or set out by foot.”

“I’d rather not stay anywhere near that lion,” she said. “And I have perfectly good legs last I checked.”

He looked up with a slow, suggestive smile. “I noticed.”

A flare of heat invaded her face. She hadn’t forgotten what almost came to pass last night, but it was much harder to acknowledge what happened in the dark of night when it was now full light of day. “So what now?” she asked.

“We eat, and then we walk.”

*

Two hours later, Miranda plopped down on a boulder with a groan. “These boots weren’t made for walking. How much farther do you think we have?”

“Probably five miles or so, which equates to about two more hours.”

“I’m sorry, Keith, but I don’t think I can do it. It’s these damned boots.” She grimaced. The insides had rubbed her feet raw. “They were brand new.”

“Let me see.” Keith dropped the heavy pack he was carrying and squatted down beside her.

She hissed in pain as he tugged off her boot. Sure enough, they’d worn the hide right off the back of her heel. “I guess I’m a tenderfoot after all.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think you’re going any farther. You’ll have to wait for me here.”

“You’re going to leave me?” she asked with a surge of panic.

“Do you want me to call in the helicopter instead?”

“For blistered heels?” She considered it, and then discarded the option for fear that Keith would think her a total wimp. “It does seem like overkill, I suppose.”

“Considering the cost of fuel, it does. I won’t be long,” he reassured her. “Traveling alone, I’ll make better time. I should be able to get there and back again with a horse in about two hours.”

“Two hours?” She sank her teeth into her lip. “I guess I’ll survive.”

“Yes.” He flashed his startling white teeth. “You’ll survive. But I’ll leave my rifle with you just in case of trouble.”

She scowled at the rifle. “You know how I feel about guns.”

“Don’t argue, Aiwattsi. It’s only for your protection. I’ll show you how to use it.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” she asked. “What does Aiwattsi mean?”