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But he knew she was making light of it on purpose, and his eyes shone with understanding. "You are right about one thing, it was bound to happen."
"We're just testing one another, that's all."
He nodded. "Then we will forget it and not speak of it again."
"Alright, that's fine with me." She nodded.
"Friends?" she asked.
"Friends!" he assured her.
They ate in peace now that they explained their actions. He felt better, only he'd wished he'd said it instead of her.
But before they got too comfortable, someone rode up to their camp. Moon pulled her to the rocks, and they hid while a man came into their camp.
"Hello in camp," the man called.
Moon put his finger to his lips and motioned for her to be very quiet. She nodded.
The man was tall, and big and his expression was one of wariness. The seemed to nose his way around the camp, as though investigating it.
"I know someone is here, you don't go off and leave a fire going." The man yelled.
Moon reasoned the man was right, so he told her to stay in the rocks and he'd take care of it.
He approached the man quietly. "You are right, one does not leave a fire going."
"Oh, you're an Indian, so that's why you hid. I guess I can't blame you." He stared at him, sizing him up quickly. "You speak very good English." The man eyed him curiously.
"Yes, I work with a white trapper friend." Moon explained.
"What tribe you from?" the man asked looking him up and down as he slid down off his saddle.
"Arapaho."
"Could I have some of that coffee?" the man asked.
"Sure… help yourself." Moon watched his every move now.
"Thanks." The man grabbed the other cup that was sitting there in front of him and mused over that.
He had dark unruly hair and piercing dark eyes. "Your partner around or are you by yourself here?"
"He's tending to business."
"Oh, I see. So, happens I'm looking for a woman. We think she might have killed a man. She's got dark red hair, and she's small. Would you have seen her?" The man said, his glance sliding up and down Moon curiously.
"What would a white woman be doing with an Indian?" Moon asked with a slight chuckle to his voice.
"Yeah, it is kind of unusual ain't it? The girl run off after killing her beau. Her father paid me to find her. He wants her back. You wouldn't know anything about her, would you?"
"No, not a thing. Is she a child?"
"Not hardly, they call her an old-maid. She's a real pretty little thing from the picture he showed me."
Moon nodded, "I did not think old-maids were pretty?"
The man studied him a moment.
