Warrior's Prize (Panorama of the Old West Book 15) by Gentry Georgina

Author:Gentry, Georgina [Gentry, Georgina]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 1997-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

FOURTEEN

The next several days were ghastly, Wannie thought. Cleve seemed bored with the simple pleasures around the cabin and the tension between Cleve and Keso was so bad, it hung in the air like a dark cloud.

One night, as they sat around the table after dinner, Cleve said, “Wannie, I’d like to explore some of the Western slopes. Isn’t that where they’re making new mineral finds?”

Cherokee frowned. “Yes, but a lot of that area is Ute land, Cleve, so that doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“Some of it isn’t, and it would be such a coup for me if I could expand Brewster Industries into mining and timber.”

Keso snorted. “Looks to me like it’s already been expanded enough. Didn’t you say your father has shipped a bunch of plows and farm equipment to the White River Agency?”

“Yes, that agent, Meeker, ordered them right before I came. That’s what interested Father into expanding still further,” Cleve admitted. “Pots, pans, and other kitchen utensils are being shipped to Colorado, too. More settlers mean more business.”

It all seemed so logical to Wannie as she sat playing with the expensive pin and gold bracelets Cleve had given her and beamed at him. “Eventually, the Utes are going to have to walk the white man’s road.”

“I reckon even the Utes have accepted that,” Silver said. “Tension seems to have died down lately.”

“Good,” Cleve said, “in the morning, I’d like to do some exploring for a few days.”

Keso looked amused. “Good way for a tenderfoot to get lost and die in the mountains.”

“Keso’s right,” Cherokee drawled, “Wannie says your pa sets a heap of store by you.”

Wannie said, “I could go with him—I know the area fairly well.”

“Drat, Wannie!” Silver reminded her, “that would hardly be proper, even if you are engaged.”

“Mrs. Evans is right,” Cleve said sanctimoniously. “As a gentleman, I could hardly besmirch a young lady’s reputation.”

“Unless you got a chance,” she thought she heard Keso mutter.

“Keso,” she snapped, “what was that?”

“Nothing.”

“I might hire a guide,” Cleve said.

Silver frowned. “As a matter of fact, the one person who knows these mountains best is Cherokee, followed by Keso.”

As much as Wannie hated to admit it, she knew Silver was right. All of them turned and looked at Keso.

“No,” he shook his head, “I’m not gonna mollycoddle a greenhorn on a jaunt around the Western slopes.”

“I didn’t ask you,” Cleve snapped.

“Well,” Cherokee said, “he sure can’t go alone.”

Wannie fixed her big, dark eyes on Keso. “Keso, you could do this.”

“N-o, no,” Keso shook his head.

She took his hand, looking up at him as she had when she was very young and attempting to cajole him into doing something that she knew he didn’t want to do. “Please? For me?”

For a long moment, they stared into each others’ eyes. She was abruptly conscious of the warmth of his hand. It felt like a surge of electricity passed between them. She turned his fingers loose is if they had burned her.

“Wannie, I don’t think so,” Keso said.

Cleve seemed peeved.

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