The woman stirred the fire and waited. Every once in a while she lifted her head to survey the surroundings. The cove was protected by the high mountains surrounding it on three sides and the Colorado only a few hundred feet in front. Only one path led down to it, but it was a fairly well used path as this was a well-known camping area to those who walked the Mojave. That was why anyone using it had to be aware of the danger that could come down that path or up from the river.

It wasn't danger the woman was waiting for.

The Courier spotted the smoke before he even got to the head of the path. He had been planning on using the camping area in the cove as he was still a day's journey from his destination. He glanced up at the sun just beginning it's descent over the mountains to the west. Soon the cove would be in darkness. If he was going to see who was down there he had better go now. If they had a fire then they weren't trying to hide their presence. Maybe he could have some company for the night. For once he was travelling alone, all his companions being engaged elsewhere. Making up his mind he headed down the path.

The Courier came down the path with care. He stopped short of the camp to survey the small figure hunched over the fire. It was impossible from this distance and angle to determine anything about it, even its sex. "Hey, stranger, Greetings.", he called. "May I approach?"

The woman looked up and smiled to herself. "Approach.", she called. "And welcome."

He came down the path warily, with weapons lowered but at the ready. The woman- for it was surely a woman's voice- had gone back to tending the fire. The enticing scent of cooking meat and brewed coffee reached him, making him salivate with hunger. He hadn't eaten all day.

The woman motioned him to a seat as he came in to view. "Hey,", he said taking the seat and the dish of food she proffered him. "It's nice to see a friendly face. I'm…", he stopped in surprise as she held up a hand and said "Shhhh."

"I don't need to know your name and you don't need to know mine. Have some coffee", she said holding out a cup.

He took the cup, puzzled at her attitude. She hadn't even really looked at him. He ate the meal in silence, casting an occasional glance at the woman who ate her meal leisurely. She took their empty utensils and simply set them aside. Scooting over to his side she looked him in the face for the first time. He took in the smooth honey colored complexion, soft brown hair, and light, almost golden eyes.

"Make love to me.", she said.

"What?", he asked, pulling back, taken by surprise.

"I want to have sex with you.", she said.

"Um, I don't think that's a good idea.", he said, not wanting to be rude but this was totally out of the ordinary.

"Why not?", she asked.

"Because I don't know you. You might try to kill me if I disarm.", he said, not sure that was what he meant to say but it sounded reasonable.

She rose and walked over to her bedroll, which was up against the cliff wall. She put her shotgun down several feet from the bedroll, and added her other weapons. She took off all her armor and piled it neatly beside the bedroll, then removed her panties and placed them on top. She was now dressed only in a garment that to him resembled a short nightgown but he believed was called a camisole. Many women wore them under the hard, chafing armor.

She walked past him, brushing up against him as she did so. "Watch for mirelurks for me?", she asked, looking back at him. He rose and followed her as she walked into the river. He watched her go under the water and then rise up, tossing her head, the water spraying around her. He felt desire building in him as she rose from the water, walking seductively toward him, a goddess rising from the waters with the last of the sun's rays playing over her golden figure.

She stopped in front of him, raising her face to look up at him with parted lips and smoldering eyes. He put a hand on her bare shoulder, leaning down toward her. "You're cold.", he said softly, feeling her shiver in the cooling air.

"Are you going to warm me?", she asked suggestively.

He shouldn't trust this woman but somehow he did. He almost felt like he should know how her body would feel, that the scar on her arm felt familiar. His lips met hers and desire washed through him. It felt like coming home. He let her take his hand and lead him to the bedroll.

He placed his shotgun beside the bedroll, handy if needed, and let her help him undo his armor. He slid under the warm cover and pulled her close. He wanted to kiss every inch of her, touch every part of her, and have her touch every part of him. Maybe it wasn't safe but he didn't care.

It was nearly dawn when the woman woke from where she was sleeping comfortably ensconced in the bedroll curled next to the big body of the Courier. She softly stroked his face so as not to rouse him. Gently pushing back the hair she ran a finger over the scar on his forehead where he had suffered the wound that changed her life.

"Aw-w-w my love, my husband.", she sighed. "I have so missed you."

She slipped as quietly as she could from the bedroll, covering him over so he wouldn't miss her warmth. Gathering her clothing and pack she moved up the path as quietly as possible to the lookout point. Here she dressed and settled down to watch over him until he rose, then she would be gone as swiftly as possible. He wouldn't know she was here.

She had timed the encounter for one reason. She ran her hand hopefully over her belly. He had another life now, a new destiny, and one she had no place in. Maybe someday he would remember and come home looking for her. If so, she would be there, always waiting. If not, someday she would tell their baby about his father, the Mojave's savior.