Clint and Terry rode in utter silence for most of the first day. For Clint’s part, he was paying special attention to their back trail. He just assumed that Terry wasn’t talking because she wasn’t happy.
But as dusk was approaching she turned in her saddle and asked, “So?”
“So what?”
“Are we being followed or not?” she said. “You’ve been looking behind us all day.”
“Well,” he said, “to tell you the truth, if someone was following us and knew what they were doing, I might not even see them. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think we’re being tailed.”
“And if we were?” she asked. “Why would anyone want to do that?”
“That’s something I thought maybe you’d know better than I do.”
“I haven’t the faintest idea.”
“You really don’t know what your father is up to, Terry?”
“I’ll tell you one thing, though,” she said. “He’s always up to something. He never does anything without a reason.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.” He looked around. “We’ll camp here.”
“Thank God!” She dismounted and rubbed her bottom. “My ass is going to be sore for a week. Let me know when supper is ready. I’m going to sit—”
“You have two choices,” he said, cutting her off.
“Do I?” she asked. “And what are they?”
“You can go out and collect wood and build a fire,” he said. “Or you can take care of the horses.”
“Take care of them?”
“Unsaddle them, rub them down, feed them, picket them—”
“Whoa,” she said, with joking. “Horses get all that care?”
“They do,” he said, “especially mine.”
She sighed heavily.
“I guess I’ll build a fire.”
“Good.” Clint said. “My horse probably would have bit your finger off.”
She stared at him.
“Oh, and by the way,” he said. “You can start cooking supper.”
“Cook?” she said. “I don’t cook.”
“Then make beans,” he said. “You can’t ruin that. When I’m finished with the horses I’ll make the coffee.”
“And you’re welcome to that job.”
By the time Clint finished with the horses Terry had somehow managed to make a fire. He had heard a lot of cussing coming from her, but there she was, with a pan of beans cooking over the fire.
“Nice job,” he said.
“I’m burning them,” she complained.
“Just move ’em around,” he said. “You’re doing fine.”
He got the coffee pot, filled it with water, dropped coffee in and set it down on the other side of the fire. Before long the air was filled with the smell.
“Here,” Clint said, taking the pan from Terry, “you cooked, so I’ll serve.”
He spooned some beans into a plate, handed it to her with a fork, then poured a cup of coffee and handed it over. He served himself and began eating.
“Is this how you always eat out here?” she asked.
“Pretty much,” he said. “I’ll make supper tomorrow, and I’ll add some bacon to the beans.”
“You could have added some tonight.”
“No, no,” he said. “You were doing the cooking tonight.”
She ate in silence for a while, then said, “Maybe tomorrow night you can show me what to do with the horses.”
“I can do that.”
“Without me losing any fingers?”
“We can definitely work on that.”
After supper he showed her how to clean the plates using dirt, and then she watched as he prepared another cup of coffee.
“I don’t drink coffee much, but this strikes me as very strong.”
“It is,” he said. “It’s trail coffee, but it’s also the only way I drink it.”
She drank some more and said, “I like it.”
When they finished the coffee he said, “You better turn in now, We’ll want to get an early start.”
“Where are we going from here?”
“You’ll find out tomorrow.”
“You don’t trust anyone, do you?”
“It’s why I’m still alive.”
“Are you going to sleep?”
“In a while.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I’m going to make sure we weren’t followed.”
“How?”
“While you sleep,” he said, “I’m going for a stroll in the dark.”