Deborah Camp by Lady Legend Page B

thrust skyward. The cabin had become his haven. Looking upon it, he felt the same comfort he’d known the last time he’d seen his family home in Illinois. That home, he knew, was no more. Home had become this ragtag collection of hewn logs and jutting rocks.
    “Sometimes that cabin is as tiny as a hat box.” Tucker pushed open the corral fence. Gus’ line-backed mule bawled and shook snow from its short mane. “Your visit has put Copper into a good mood. She’s been short-tempered lately. Having you around acts like a tonic on her.”
    “After all the woes that gal’s endured, it’s a wonder she isn’t a jibbering idiot.” Gus grabbed the mule’s halter and led him toward the stables.
    “She’s had a tough time of it,” Tucker agreed.“What with being abandoned by the Crow and all. Why’d they do that to her?”
    “They think she killed her husband.”
    “But she didn’t.”
    Gus grinned. “You don’t sound too sure of that, Yankee blue.”
    Tucker stabled Gus’ mule beside Hauler. “She hasn’t exactly denied it.”
    Gus gave a snort. “She strike you as a woman who could slay her own husband?” He scratched at his flowing beard. “’Course you did say she might take a tomahawk to you, didn’t you now?”
    “You know I didn’t mean that.” Tucker kicked at the packed dirt beneath his moccasins. He hadn’t gotten used to the soft soles and wished for a proper pair of Union boots. “I was blowing steam. I’ve been out of sorts.”
    “Been awhile, has it?” Gus’ randy grin said the rest.
    Tucker grimaced, enduring the twinge of self-pity. “You betcha, old-timer. Lately, I’ve been in a world of hurt.”
    Gus laughed with devilish delight. “Hiyup, that’s something I know about, pilgrim. In these high mountains the women are not so refined, but they sure are warm and cuddly.” He put a finger to his cracked lips. “Got something tucked in my saddle bags for such an occasion.” He rummaged through the packed panniers and pulled out a brown bottle encased in straw.
    “These spirits were made by an old prospector friend of mine. Had to trade him a blanket, eight cartridges, and two ’baccer twists for just one bottle, but it’s worth it.” He uncorked the bottle and tipped it to his mouth. His throat worked. When he handed it to Tucker, Tucker saw that the kick of the liquor had brought tears to the old man’s eyes.
    “Much obliged.” Tucker sniffed at the stuff and his stomach shriveled in response. Undaunted, he upended the bottle and filled his mouth with theliquid fire. He coughed around a second sip and blindly held out the bottle to Gus. For a moment all he could see was black smoke. Flames shot through his stomach, followed by a delicious shiver that began in his gut and spread out to his fingertips and toes.
    “Oooooweeee!” Tucker winked and sucked in the breath of life. “That’s got a powerful punch,” he rasped, barely able to speak.
    Gus cackled and took another swig. “Don’t it though? If it don’t cure what ails you, it’ll at least kill you and put you out of your misery.”
    Tucker bent over and laughed. The joke wasn’t all that funny but—
damn!
—it felt good to let go a laugh.
    “Feeling better, soldier?”
    “That liquor can’t take the place of a woman,” Tucker allowed, “but it sure as shootin’ beats playing five finger stud in the middle of the night. Maybe it’ll keep me from doing something foolish like grabbing for Copper and drawing back a bloody stump.”
    Gus raised one leg and whacked his thigh with the flat of his hand. He released a cheery whoop of laughter. “Tis true, soldier blue. Tis true!” He ran his forefinger over his extravagant mustache and reined in his juicy chuckles. “You don’t have to worry about Copper doing you harm. Not unless you do unto her first. Wouldn’t want to make an enemy of her. After all, she possesses powerful medicine.”
    Tucker hooked his fingers in his belt and felt Copper’s