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narrowed. "Why aren't you wearing the sun protection I mixed up for you?"
    "I forgot. I'll wear it tomorrow."
    Now that she wasn't worrying about growing ice, she could enjoy the sun on her face and the warm breeze blowing down the valley. It was nice to reacquaint herself with the music of a river. Nice to watch the animals grazing next to the trail and hear the murmur of men's voices. At this moment, it was hard to believe that revenge was her motive for being here.
    Once they remounted, Tanner rode up beside her. "I figure we're about a mile off the stage road, starting to climb toward the cut up to the Comstock. So could have led this expedition."
    "You're right." She slid him a sidelong look from beneath the brim of her old hat. He looked good on the big bay horse, riding easy and loose. But he looked good whatever he was doingsitting, standing, walking. "But you don't know where we should cut south, or where the best campsites are or how to find the water holes."
    His smile relaxed, almost a tease. "That's when I start getting my money's worth." They rode a mile in silence before he said, "I'm obliged that you changed your mind about traveling with the gold."
    "I get pissy every time I think about it, but there isn't a real choice. If I had a father, I'd do the same thing."
    Fox didn't remember her father, and over time the memories of her mother had faded. Only vague impressions remained, mostly of a sick room and the terrible grief closing her throat. But she remembered her stepfather. Him, she would never forget.
    "I guess your mother is gone, or the kidnappers would have approached her."
    "My mother died shortly after I was born," Tanner said. "I have no memory of her."
    "And your father never remarried?" These questions pushed the limits of what was acceptable, but she couldn't stop herself.
    "My father married again years later, but his second wife died less than a year after the wedding. I never met the woman."
    "How old were you then?" Fox's face flamed. Silently she commanded herself to stop asking personal questions before he got the idea that she was interested in him.
    "I was about ten or eleven. In school back east."
    At least he had a father. Fox thought it must be good to have someone who cared no matter what a person did. She had Peaches, but she would have given anything to have a real mother and father, too.
    When she turned her head, Tanner had dropped back behind the mules. Seems he didn't welcome personal questions. That's what going to school in the east did for a person, installed a reserve. In the west, folks didn't stand on formality, they wanted to know who was talking to them and that required questions. But once the basics were known, it was live and let live. Or maybe she was looking for an excuse to justify her curiosity.
    They rode into Gold Canyon about three in the afternoon. The town was one of the oldest in the territory, strung out along a tight valley near the river. The racket from the mills servicing the Comstock would have driven Fox mad if she'd had to live herethe noise and the lack of sunlight. The dreary town was already in shadow.
    As the town pump was the primary source of rumor and gossip, they paused there to refill canteens and stretch their legs. Fox used the opportunity to ask questions. She didn't like the answers.
    Thinking about the news, she led Tanner's party down the main street and continued out of town, past a few small farms and out to the edge of the desert. The campsite she wanted was still there, nestled beside the river in a copse of tall cottonwoods.
    After she swung down off the mustang, Fox flexed her knees, feeling the pull along the insides of her thighs. She'd be stiff in the morning.
    "All right, let's get organized." Peaches knew what to do, she didn't worry about him. "Lay out your bedrolls, then we need someone to fetch water, someone to get a fire started, and someone to cook supper. You gentlemen work it out among yourselves as to who does what.