Apache Ambush

Fargo did not need to guess. He had met men like this prospector before. ‘‘You want to hear yourself talk.’’

Stein’s smirk became a scowl. ‘‘I would watch what I say, were I you. You beat on me. You threw me out in the street. I owe you, mister, for the pain and the humiliation.’’

Tilly chimed in with, ‘‘You brought that on yourself. I kept telling you to leave me be, George.’’

‘‘Now you are calling me by my first name?’’ Stein said. ‘‘Why so friendly all of a sudden? Could it be you hope to melt me with charm so I will let your new friend live?’’

‘‘Please,’’ Tilly said.

‘‘Please what?’’ Suddenly Stein bent toward them, his features those of a mad beast. ‘‘How stupid do you think I am, bitch? You had your chance. I courted you proper and you threw it in my face.’’

‘‘Since when is trying to force a woman to go with a man against her will courting?’’ Tilly angrily demanded.

‘‘I don’t see what you are complaining about. I didn’t hit you or anything, did I?’’

Tilly started to rise but caught herself. ‘‘Is that your notion of love? You treat a woman like she is your slave and you are her master, but you don’t hit her, so that makes it right?’’

‘‘Who said anything about love?’’ Stein retorted. ‘‘I just want a warm body on cold nights. I want someone to do the cooking and washing and sweep the floor now and again.’’

‘‘I was right. You do want a slave.’’

Stein took a half step toward her. ‘‘I want a woman! You have no idea how lonely it can be up in those mountains. Night after night with just you and your thoughts to keep you company.’’

‘‘There is Silver Lode,’’ Tilly said.

‘‘That shows how much you know. Silver Lode is a bunch of tents and drunks, and no women. No women will go up there because of the Apaches. They are too afraid.’’

‘‘I don’t blame them,’’ Tilly said.

‘‘I do. I cannot do without,’’ Stein flatly declared. ‘‘I want one and I will have one, and that one is you.’’

‘‘Why am I so lucky?’’

Stein shrugged. ‘‘You are the first female I set eyes on when I got here. Besides, you are a dove. You make your living pleasing men. You don’t have a husband or kids or any of that baggage. So I am taking you back up into the mountains with me.’’

‘‘You are despicable,’’ Tilly said. ‘‘If I had a knife, I would stab you.’’

Fargo had a knife. An Arkansas toothpick, which he wore in an ankle sheath. While they argued he had slid his hand under his pant leg and was inching his fingers into his boot.

‘‘It won’t be so bad,’’ Stein was saying. ‘‘I will treat you decent. I won’t beat you unless you deserve it, and I have a washtub so you can take baths like women like to do.’’

‘‘I would live like a queen.’’

‘‘Don’t be that way. I may not have much now but when I do you will share in my wealth.’’

‘‘You will give me half?’’ Tilly asked, her tone suggesting she was being sarcastic again.

‘‘I won’t go that far, no. But I will give you what is fair for the time you spend with me. Say, a hundred dollars a month. But only if I strike it rich. If I don’t, I will give you what I can.’’

‘‘And I have no say in any of this,’’ Tilly said bitterly. ‘‘What do you think women are? Dogs in dresses?’’

Fargo gripped the toothpick’s hilt. But he did not use it. Not yet. Not until he was good and sure.

‘‘You say the strangest things,’’ Stein told Tilly. ‘‘Dogs don’t wear clothes and women don’t trot around on all fours.’’

‘‘We might as well. Men like you don’t treat us any better than they do their mongrels.’’ Tilly sadly shook her head. ‘‘All my life I have had to deal with your kind. All my life I have hated them. Give me a man who treats a gal with respect. Give me a man who treats a woman like a woman and not like a cur.’’

‘‘You are making a heap out of nothing,’’ Stein criticized. ‘‘Get used to the idea that you are mine. As soon as I deal with him’’—he jerked a thumb at Fargo—‘‘you and me are heading for the high country.’’

‘‘I will be damned if I am.’’

‘‘You will be dead if you don’t.’’

Tilly showed the whites of her eyes. ‘‘You would really do that? Kill me for not wanting to share your bed?’’

‘‘I am desperate for a female,’’ Stein said. ‘‘I would not have come all the way down here if I wasn’t.’’

‘‘Why not pay for a poke and get it out of your system? I do not do pokes for money but Bucktoothed Mary does. She lives in the third shack past the saloon.’’

‘‘A single poke will not do me,’’ Stein said. ‘‘I want it every night that I am in the mood, and I am in the mood a lot.’’

‘‘Of course you are. You are male.’’ Tilly considered a bit, then said, ‘‘I will go with you willingly on one condition.’’

Stein was as surprised as Fargo by her abrupt change of heart. ‘‘How’s that again?’’

Tilly pointed at Fargo. ‘‘Let him live and I will go up into the mountains with you.’’

‘‘Why so generous all of a sudden?’’ Stein suspiciously asked. ‘‘And why do you care so much about this saddle bum? What is he to you?’’

‘‘I never set eyes on him before tonight,’’ Tilly confessed.