Shadow on the Land Read Online Free Page B

debate in him. Then he said, against his better judgment: “Shaniko.”
    Deborah’s smile came quickly. “Why, so am I.”
    â€œSupper there?”
    â€œWhy not just wait and ask me there.” There was more promise in her eyes than he had expected. “Will your friend be with you?”
    His eyes narrowed. “What friend?”
    â€œOh, the steward said some man wanted to see you.”
    â€œIt wasn’t important. Not like seeing you in Shaniko.”
    He drew her into his arms, and, when there was no resistance, fire crept into his lips as he pressed them against hers. She was limp and clinging, and a flame touched them, and he sensed that she, too, felt it. Then she pulled from him as abruptly as she had submitted.
    â€œIt was easy, wasn’t it, Dawes? I wonder if you have ever kissed a woman seriously.”
    â€œWhat did you think that was?”
    â€œA trial, I’d say.” Her breath made a little sigh. “I guess you’d better go. We’re landing.”
    Lee paused at the door, his eyes on her speculatively. “Shaniko,” he said, and left the cabin.
    He found himself directly in the path of Hanna Racine. She went past him, her eyes showing no sign of recognition. Lee, turning toward his own cabin for his luggage, felt a sudden uneasiness grip him. He had no way of determining whether Hanna knew whose cabin he had been leaving, but, judging by the way she had hurried by, he was afraid she did. A fine start he had made in this gigantic chess game John Stevens was playing.
    The Inland Belle was cutting in slowly to the landing, the big stern wheel seeming to walk across the water. Lee stood at the rail on the shore side, his grips at his feet. The Dalles spread before his eyes on a flat beneath the huge, brown hills. This was the entrance to much of central Oregon—a romantic town that had seen settlers pouring in from the East and miners heading eastward to the gold-bearing streams. He had been here during the North Bank fight, crossing on the ferryboat from Grand Dalles, where the Hill line had its station. But there was little here now to attract him. One word kept ringing in his ears: “Shaniko!”
    Hanna Racine hurried past, and waited with a studied soberness for the gangplank to be run out. The passengers crowded by, and with some amusement he saw the fat owner of the dog, Willie, come down the passage. His wife was with him, but it was the man who was having the trouble. His arms were piled with luggage that teetered uncertainly, and somewhere in that tangle of arms and hands and bags he found a finger to grip Willie’s leash.
    â€œGet a move on,” his wife was saying ominously.
    It was then Willie saw Lee, and he promptly raced across the passage, pulling his leash across the fat man’s legs. The man stumbled, and a valise bounced to the deck. Willie, disconcerted at finding himself unable to reach the tall man who had become the object of his affections, lunged again, and the fat one, legs tangled, went crashing down in a scattering of luggage. He swore and came to his knees, eyes blazing. He cuffed the dog savagely, and cursed again.
    â€œDon’t do that!” Lee bent threateningly. “Dog beaters come right down at the bottom of the pile.”
    â€œYou saw him trip me.”
    â€œDon’t you want him?”
    â€œWant him? Hell, I’d like to drown him.”
    Lee dangled a $10 bill in front of him. “I want him.”
    â€œHorace, don’t let him have Willie!” the woman screamed.
    The fat man grinned at her as he reached for the money. “Maybe I should take up the matter of you drinking gin slings all day with Pete Royce. I’m tired of walking this dog. I’m tired of dog biscuits on the floor. I’m tired of having dog hair on my pants. You say he’s yours, but I’m the dog maid.”
    The woman sighed, and turned away. The fat man stuffed the money into his