Foxfire Bride Read Online Free PDF

how best to distribute the load among the mules. She had everything figured out before she met Peaches at the bathhouse.
    "We want the works," she told the attendant. "Shave, haircut, and bath for him; shampoo and bath for meand we want all the extras, the good-smelling stuff. We want private rooms and sandwiches and whiskey." With a flourish she counted out four dollars then headed toward the women's side of the building.
    It felt good to walk past the communal bathing pool, which had a light scum floating on the surface, and enter one of the private rooms. Fox had only enjoyed a private bathing room one other time in her whole life.
    An attendant had gone ahead and laid out towels that didn't look as if they'd already been used, had lit the lamps and set out fancy scented soap, a pot of face cream, and tooth powder.
    "Food, drinks, and hot water are on the way," the attendant announced cheerfully. "There's a dish where you can put your hairpins. Clothes go on those hooks over there. I'll be back before you've finished creaming your face."
    Fox had never in her life creamed her face. She opened the pot and sniffed the contents. The scent made her think of mountain junipers. Well, why not? Maybe her face was starving for cream. She didn't know about that kind of thing.
    After undressing, she wrapped herself in one of the wonderful towels, then covered her hair before she slathered the cream on her face. A light tingling rose in the chapped areas.
    When she was finally settled in steaming scented water, sandwiches on the small table beside her, a whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other, she closed her eyes, sighed, and gave herself up to true luxury.
    And she wondered where Matthew Tanner was right now. What were the "other things" he had to do today? Was there someone to whom he needed to bid farewell? Did he have some work to finish before he left?
    A frown wrinkled her brow. She'd nearly choked on her whiskey when Tanner mentioned that he worked for Hobbs Jennings. For a moment she'd heard a roaring in her ears, fate shouting to make sure she was paying attention. After that it didn't matter how Tanner answered her questions. Any niggling doubt had fled her mind.
    Relaxing, she blew a smoke ring through the rising steam then swallowed a sip of whiskey. Matthew Tanner. If Fox had lived the life she was supposed to have lived, if she'd been the woman she was supposed to have been, Matthew Tanner was a man she might have set her cap for.
    She thought about that, letting herself daydream fairy-tale fantasies until her bathwater cooled. Then she sighed. She hated it when she let herself dream of might-have-beens. That kind of dream left her feeling inadequate and depressed.
    After she wiped the cream off her face, she looked into a mirror. Maybe her cheeks appeared less red and raw. Maybe. She couldn't really tell.
    What the hell difference did it make, anyway? Matthew Tanner was never going to pay her any attention. And she didn't want him to. Business and pleasure didn't mix.
     
    By the time Tanner arrived at the staging area, minutes before dawn, Fox and Peaches had loaded the panniers and strapped them on the mules. The mustangs that Tanner had bought yesterday were saddled and waiting. Holding a tin cup of coffee, Fox stood to one side, sizing up Cutter Hanratty and Jubal Brown and running her eyes over the mules.
    "I guess you met the boys," Tanner said, leading a mule up to the trains. Fox had put three mules in one train, two in the other.
    "What's this?" she asked, incredulous. Angry and disbelieving, she strode forward to stare at his mule. "We have all the mules we need. Besides, we agreed that I would select the animals!"
    "We needed one more," Tanner said, moving his mule up behind the short train. As the sky brightened, he studied the method she'd used to tether the mules. Excellent. If one balked, the twine lead would break and the other mules wouldn't be pulled over.
    "The hell we do," she snapped, following