"Come on. Climb on the back of the saddle," he ordered, staring firmly in her direction.
"Where are we goin?" she whispered, hugging herself with crossed arms in front of her.
"We're headin' for a creek bed that I found a little ways back," he said, motioning for her to come ahead. "I'm plannin' to take a bath before I go any farther," he added.
"A bath?" she whispered.
He laughed. "Yes. A bath. Haven't you ever taken a bath?"
She gave him a look of utter contempt and put her hands on her hips. Then she eyed her mule. "What about my mule?" she asked, removing her traveling bag from around its neck.
"It'll find its way home, or might wander on into Cripple Creek. Whenever the mood strikes it."
"But the bobcats?"
"Don't you worry your purty head about it, woman," he drawled. "Let's just get ourselves where we can build a campfire for the night."
Eugenia straightened her back and held her chin up. "I do have a name, sir," she said, almost stubbornly. "It be Eugenia Marie Scott."
"That right?" he mused, reaching for her hand to help her to sit behind him.
She settled herself on the saddle, having never been so close to a man before, except for her Papa. Her Papa had kept all available "courting age" fellows from showing their faces to her. Her future was already charted for her, a future that only included the homestead and the running of it—after her father reached the age of retirement.
But now? It made these strange feelings flow through her, to place her abdomen so close to his behind.
But again, his smell distracted any pleasant thoughts that tried to surface. She placed her arms around his waist and tightened her hold. The sweet, crazy feeling in her stomach tried to take control once again, but she wouldn't let it. She took one last look at her mule, experiencing a few pangs of homesickness, and some doubtful misgivings. But she hurriedly brushed these thoughts aside. She had started something and she planned to finish it.
"What might your name be?" she asked, as the horse began its way through the darkness. She sank back onto the saddle. It shook her insides up as the horse began to gallop faster.
"My name?" the stranger finally answered. "You can call me Drew. Drew Jamieson."
Eugenia's voice rattled as she yelled into the wind. "How much farther?"
"Just a mite. Eugenia?" he said. "That's what you said your name was?"
"Yes: Eugenia."
"Lovely name," he drawled.
"Thank you kindly," she answered, settling herself more comfortably behind him. She could smell the aroma of his buckskin cape as the wind whipped its corners up around and onto her lap and exposed legs. She was afraid to try and reach down and push the gathered material down as it whipped around her. She was afraid that she too would go flying with the wind.
Suddenly, before her eyes, she saw something shimmering across the sea of blackness stretched out before her. Then she heard the rushing of water. He pulled the horse to a halt just as Eugenia saw the waterfall cascading down the mountain side, settling in a deep carved gorge, then trickling on outward into a million diamond glimmers beneath the moon's reflection.
"It's beautiful, Drew," she murmured. She felt awkward saying his name for that very first time.
"Thought you'd like it," he said, dismounting. His eyes looked upward, almost devouring her as he reached up for her. She had just about jumped down unassisted, but liked this being treated like a lady. When his hands found her waist and slipped upward to cover her breasts, Eugenia gasped openly. Then when she was safely on the ground, she turned her eyes from him and quickly straightened the gathers on her skirt and checked to see if all the buttons of her blouse were still secured. She watched as Drew began to rush around, gathering dried twigs.
"We'll get us a fire built, then I'm goin' to jump in that creek," he said.
Realizing the coolness of the night, plus the fact that this man was planning to undress—so close to her—sent ripples of chills through Eugenia.
"It's mighty cold," she said, hugging her arms around her once again. She was glad to see the fire take hold. She worked her way to it, bent over, and placed her hands over the flames.
"Never too cold for me," Drew said. He slowly began to remove his clothes. Eugenia sat spellbound, growing more full of wonder with each piece discarded. But, when he got down to his red long Johns she turned her head away.
"Embarrassin' you, huh?"
She didn't answer. She kept her head turned until she heard a loud splash of water. Slowly she turned her head back around to let her eyes search for him in the water. Something made her want to see him after all, maybe find out the mysteries of a man, but she only found his head visible as his gaze met hers.
"Feels mighty powerful good," he shouted. "You should join me."
She swallowed hard, realizing that he had caught her looking. Had he even guessed her thoughts? She continued to sit there, shivering, wishing he would hurry. She felt the campfire's warmth, but yet there was something else causing her insides to quiver…
When he did reappear before her, he was fully clothed. She looked at him more closely. He didn't look much different clean than dirty. Not with the thick beard covering all his facial features. But he did smell better. Her eyes went to his hair. It was cut short, and was extraordinarily curly. But she couldn't help but like its appearance. It made him different.
She continued to watch in silence as he pulled his saddle from his horse and carried it to the ground by the fire. His hands searched deep inside the saddlebag pockets. "I don't have much to offer you for supper," he said. "The time I usually spend hunting for supper was spent rescuin' you tonight."
"I'm sorry," Eugenia said.
"Don't be sorry." He laughed. "You're much better company than a cooked rabbit."
Eugenia was able to create a small titter of laughter. She let her shoulders droop forward more loosely, and relaxed more in his presence. She pulled her traveling bag to her side and opened it. "I have some bread and cheese left," she said, pulling a red-checkered napkin out.
"Damn. We'll have a feast," Drew commented. He went to the creek and put water in a small pan and sprinkled coffee grounds into it. Its fragrance made Eugenia's thoughts wander to home once again—to Papa, Mama, and Elizabeth.
"Tell me about yourself," Drew said, settling himself down on the ground next to Eugenia. He placed the pan into the flames.
Eugenia tore some bread loose and picked some cheese away from the small chunk that she still hadn't eaten and handed these to Drew, with him smiling a big thanks back at her. She took a bite of bread and worked it around in her mouth as the aroma of coffee grew stronger in the night air. She pulled her boots off and wiggled her toes next to the fire, sighing deeply.
"Well, I have a sister named Elizabeth," she began. "And a Mama named Jessica, and Papa's named Hiram. That's all there is to my family. We live on a patch of ground purty much around the base of this mountain."
"Did your family approve of you takin' this trip alone?"
"They didn't know nuthin' 'bout it," she answered. "I sneaked off early this mornin' before anyone knew it. My Papa, he refused to travel around the full base of this mountain to check out the stories of 'gold' bein' found in Cripple Creek. He always scoffed at the mere mention of the word gold.' He always said his 'tater patch had kept his family fed all the past years, and would till he wasn't able to plow the earth no more.'"
"You were takin' a chance doin' this all alone, don't you know?" Drew said, wrinkling deep furrows into his brow. Eugenia studied his eyes, they actually seemed to be bluer than the sky on a clear summer's day. "And what do you 'spect to find waitin' for you in Cripple Creek?" he added.
"I want to go there to become a lady," Eugenia said, tilting her chin up into the air.
"God! What do you mean?" Drew exclaimed. "What I'm seein' is more lady than I've seen in years."
Eugenia's eyes flashed angrily, wondering if he was again referring to her th
ick waistline. How she hated being heavy. She wanted so much to be tiny like Elizabeth. But yet, Elizabeth was a mite too frail. And poor Elizabeth. She wasn't strong enough to ever break away from home and would have to accept any kind of future that Papa had planned for her.
She turned her eyes to Drew and studied him closely, then decided he looked sincere enough and proceeded to tell him her life history. When finished, she laughed awkwardly.
"You're the first person I've ever confided in," she said. She reached over to pick the pan up from the fire, wanting to refill her tin cup with coffee. When she touched it, she drew her hand quickly back and thrust a throbbing finger into her mouth, sucking on it.
"God! Don't you know better than to touch somethin' hot from a fire?" Drew said.
"I guess I've got a lot of learnin' to do 'bout bein' a lady," Eugenia said stubbornly, remembering the times she had watched Elizabeth working around in the kitchen, not wanting to do such menial chores herself. She had always dreamed of being so much more than just a mother and wife who only knew the skills of cooking, cleaning, and raising children.
"Here. Let me see it," Drew said. He took her hand in his and inspected the smooth red spot on the tip of her forefinger. "It's not too badly burned," he said, not releasing it.
Eugenia's lashes fluttered nervously as he looked at her with deep desire. "I want so much to kiss you," he said hoarsely, but not making any attempt to move closer.
Eugenia's heart was pounding so hard, she could hardly catch her breath. His continuing gaze was almost hypnotizing her. She suddenly knew that she wanted his kiss. But she didn't know what to do. She had never been with a man before. She sat spellbound as his hand moved upward to touch her hair.
"I know your hair has to be more beautiful released from its tight confines," he said further. His fingers removed the pins from her hair until the braids fell limply down across her shoulders.
"Please unbraid them for me," Drew said. His hand traced Eugenia's facial features, surprising Eugenia as his every touch seemed to release sparks of fire on her skin.
She reached up and began to twist and turn her hair until the braids had disappeared and her hair hung in long, auburn waves around her shoulders and down her back. She shook her head, making the hair whisk around her face and then back again in place.
"You're so lovely, Eugenia," Drew said, leaning toward her. She shut her eyes and let his lips cover hers. She knew that she shouldn't… but she couldn't help herself. She felt this need growing inside, growing stronger as she felt his tongue exploring deep inside her mouth, so wet, so warm. She trembled as she felt his fingers unbuttoning the front of her dress, thinking wildly that this was wrong, but letting her feelings of passion guide her onward, letting his fingers tease and fondle a breast until both breasts were free, pushing against his chest.
"Oh, God," Drew whispered. He lowered his mouth to cover first one breast and then the other. His lips pursed and sucked noisily until Eugenia thought she would melt into the ground that she was now being stretched out upon. When she felt the warmth of his hand begin to creep up her leg, she squirmed and tried to push him away, suddenly aware of what was about to happen. "Please don't," she said, but her words were swallowed by another lingering kiss, making her head begin to swim, not even caring that her sunburned face was being scratched by the stiffness of his whiskers.
"I won't hurt you, Eugenia," he said. His fingers were now working beneath her panties, and then between her thighs, where her heart now seemed to be pounding.
"Drew, I… just… don't know," Eugenia said. Her eyes were hazy with desire. She was enjoying these strong sensuous feelings this stranger had aroused in her and she ached for more. She was his. A prisoner of his blue, penetrating eyes.
"I'm just about to show you how much of a lady, a woman, you really are, my darling," Drew said thickly, pulling Eugenia's panties down her legs. She didn't protest any further, completely lost in a trance of his gentleness, as he shoved her dress upward, exposing her female area to a man—for the first time ever.
His hands petted and caressed her stomach and thigh muscles, and went again between her thighs, stopping on her swollen, pulsating love mound. When his fingers began to twitch and squeeze it, she beean, to toss her head back and forth, moaning. She arced her body upward as he leaned his body down over her until she felt something long and hard resting between her thighs… and then realized that she was just about to be seduced.
Slowly, gently, he entered her, then one strong push forward made Eugenia cry out with pain. Then, unbelievable to her, the pain began to change to pleasure as Drew's body kept in rhythmic strokes of up and down, making the pleasure mount to unsurmountable heights, making Eugenia want to cry.
"You're becoming a woman tonight," Drew said, sounding as though his voice was coming from the depths of a well.
Eugenia clung to him, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. The feelings were so frantic, and pressing inside her. If this was what it meant to become a woman she couldn't help but wonder how she could have waited so long.
"Oh, Drew," she whispered, feeling his body begin to shake and quiver against hers as the feelings inside her own body rose to such heights she felt as though she would explode into a million pieces of the warm sun's rays. Suddenly her mind was one large wave of this warmth, filling every fiber of her being. Then it was over. A release of pent-up emotions leaving her relaxed and fulfilled.
"Remarkable," Drew said, then pulled away from her, watching her as his fingers sought out her breasts once again. "And your breasts. The best," he mumbled softly.
Now aware of her nudity beneath these searching eyes, Eugenia pushed her dress down and pulled the buttons together on the bodice. Her eyes faltered, now having doubts over what she had just permitted this man to do to her. But she had wanted it, or it wouldn't have happened.
She rose and walked toward the creek, still readjusting the skirt of her dress. The water was so peaceful as it rippled over the shallow bed of rocks. Its peacefulness seemed to match her own feelings, strange as it was to her. She ran her fingers through her hair, straightening it. Then she felt his hand at the nape of her neck, lifting the hair, applying his lips where the hair had lain. She shivered, enjoying this surprise caress from his warm, moist lips. And, God! Didn't he smell so sweet? It was a smell of creek water and roses mingled into one—much different than when she had first gotten near him.
"You're not sorry, are you?" he asked, turning her around so their eyes could meet.
"No. I'm not sorry," she answered. "I've never had such a beautiful experience."
Drew pulled her into his arms and held her close to him. "You were made for sex," he said, burying his nose into the depths of her hair, enjoying the smell of it. "And don't think for a minute that you're not a woman."
She gazed, wide-eyed, up into his eyes. "Would you say I'm… a lady?" she asked softly, innocently.
"Nothing else but." He laughed amusedly.
Eugenia smiled as she pulled away from him. She strolled toward the fire. "I don't even know one thing about you and I give myself to you willingly." She pulled her skirt up and sat down close to the fire once again, her green eyes a picture of wonder. She was glad when he sat down opposite her. She wasn't sure if she could be so dose to him so soon after without wanting to touch him, caress him. She could feel her face reddening just thinking about it.
"What do you want to know?" he asked. He poured coffee into two tin cups and handed one to her.
"Were you really on your way to Cripple Creek?" she asked. She began to sip the coffee, enjoying the warmth it brought to her insides.
He laughed. "Sure am. I'm ready to make a million in gold. Just like I've read about so many other fellas doin."
"Where might you be from?"
"My parents arrived here in the U.S. in eighteen seventy-five from Gaunbalny, Russia. I was born in New York the next year, the year they moved to Saint Louis."
"Saint Louis? I've read so much about it
," Eugenia sighed, remembering the nights in front of the fire with only her Papa's books to keep her company.
"My parents have never been happy there," Drew grumbled, lighting a cigarette. "It seems the Jewish community was much larger in New York."
"You're of Jewish descent?"
He cast her a sweeping, questioning look. "Does that matter?"
"No. Not really," she murmured. Her eyes settled on his thick crop of dark, curly hair. It fit in now. But his blue eyes? She would have expected brown. But it was none of her concern. She hurriedly changed the subject, sensing that she had hit on a delicate subject. "I've heard the streets of Cripple Creek are even paved in gold," she said almost in a sigh.
A loud burst of laughter surfaced from Drew. "Who in hell told you that?" he finally said, wiping wetness from his eyes.
"Why? Ain't it true?" she asked innocently, her eyes wide.
"You've got a lot to learn, woman," he said, flicking his cigarette into the fire.
"Do you mean the streets ain't paved in gold?"
"Eugenia, the streets in Cripple Creek are the same as any streets in any other town."
Disappointment surged through Eugenia. So often she had dreamed of these streets shining, reflecting in goldish tints upward as she walked across them attired in a satin dress. And now?
"And don't expect too much of the town," Drew continued. "There's a lot of meanness in gold mining towns. You might even want to return to your Mama and Papa."
Eugenia set her lips firmly. "Never," she said. "I'm goin' to buy me a lot of dresses made of satin and look real purty just like all the other women in town."
"What do you expect to do to get money to buy these dresses?"
"I'll find me work. Somewheres."
"I'm sure you will," Drew chuckled.
Eugenia wasn't sure if she liked the way Drew's eyes were flickering with that comment. She had to wonder what was behind his amused mockery.
"I will," she demanded. "You'll see."
"Sure. Sure," he said, rising. "But for now, we'd best get some shut-eye."
She watched as he pulled a blanket from his saddle bag. "Come on, honey," he said, guiding her by the arm. "Let's keep each other warm."
Eugenia's Embrace Page 2
