“What the hell are you doing out here?” Blade shouted. “I gave orders for you to stay in your tent!”
She moved closer to him and screamed in his ear. “I had to come. I couldn’t leave Athena out here alone.”
“Dammit, she’s not alone!” he hollered back, and pulled Theodora closer to him with one hand.
To Theodora’s amazement, War Shield was not plunging wildly about. Although nervous and frightened, the well trained animal was listening to Blade. He seemed to sense his master’s composure. Gradually, the high-strung mare, influenced by the powerful stallion, calmed as well, and their owners stood side by side in the torrent, soothing them.
Ducking her head,Theodora tried unsuccessfully to bury herself under her rubber poncho. She had dashed out without her hat, although it was so sodden and limp it would have offered little protection anyway. In contrast, Blade’s wide hat kept the hail off his face, and the rain ran in rivulets down its brim.
Shaking his head at her predicament, Blade opened his rain proof cape and pulled her under its shelter. She fit under his arm like a doll, protected from the driving rain and the stinging chunks of ice.
Theodora put her arms around his waist and buried her wet head on his chest. She was trembling. She wanted to believe it was only from the cold and not from fear of the storm, but she knew better. Roll after roll of thunder crashed above their heads, and she was grateful she couldn’t see the jagged bolts of lightning striking the prairie. The feel of his muscles, firm and taut under his soft buckskin shirt, promised security, and like Athena, her fear dissolved under his steadying influence. Strangely though, beneath the ear she pressed to his muscular chest, his heartbeat steadily increased. She wondered with misgiving if the storm could possibly get any worse. He’d always seemed so supremely self-confident, so unruffled.
Theodora, not the raging tempest, was the reason for Blade’s quickened pulse. But it was not an excitement that he was in any hurry to end. With her slim arms clasped tightly around him, her rounded breasts pressed finnly against his rib cage, and her head laid so trustingly on his chest, he felt desire leap up within him. Not for the first time, he recalled with pleasure the feeling of her soft lips under his own, the satin smoothness of her skin beneath his touch. Since their initial evening on the trail she had treated him with polite indifference, preferring the company of Wesley Fletcher and Peter Haintzelman. But he knew she had responded to his kiss, to his caress, and he was certain he could bring her to that passionate response again. A longing washed over him to hold her silken body next to his, to feel her arch with pleasure at his touch, to ignite within her a throbbing, relentless need, and then guide her to its fulfillment.
Like a warning bell, his promise to Kearny intruded on his lustful fantasies. You are solely responsible for her in every way, and that includes the protection of her virtue—even from yourself.
Bit by bit, the awareness of his tense muscles rippling under her hands replaced Theodora’s thoughts of the storm. The spicy, aromatic scent of the cheroots in his pocket mingled with the masculine smell of leather and filled her senses. Memories of his kiss intruded on her brief feeling of security and she peeked out from under his cape. The hail, much smaller, was falling less frequently now, and the sheets of driving rain had diminished to the status of an ordinary Massachusetts rain storm. She smiled tentatively up at him, hoping he had no inkling of her thoughts, then stepped out from under the shelter of his arm.
“Thank you, Captain,” she said, suddenly shy as she turned and patted Athena on her velvet nose. “You certainly have a way of quieting down distraught females,” she added with a nervous laugh, indicating the mare.
“You’re no longer frightened, I hope,” Blade said gently.
Theodora turned to stare at him, searching for the reason for the tenderness in his voice. “Oh, pooh! I wasn’t frightened. I was speaking of my horse, Captain.”
“Were you?”
A bashful smile played at the corners of her mouth, and she shrugged. “I guess I was a little worried. And when I heard your heart pounding, I thought you were frightened too.”
His boyish smile was devastating. “It wasn’t the storm that caused my pulse to race, vehoka.” His ebony eyes caught and held her gaze, telling her without words what had sent the blood pounding through his veins.
With supreme effort, she pulled her own gaze away. “I’d better look for Tom,” she murmured, and turned to go.
As she hurried away a strange ache spiraled through her body, causing the oddest wish to return to the shelter of his cape and cling once again to those firm, rippling muscles. The dratted man brought on the strangest feelings. If he could do that to her, even after what had happened back at Fort Leavenworth, he was twice as dangerous as any thunderstorm!
Tom was inside their tent when she entered.
“There you are, Teddy. I looked for you after the hail stopped, but I missed you in the rain.” The relief in his voice made her feel guilty.
Theodora hesitated. She wondered how to tell him why he hadn’t been able to find her. “I was sheltering under Captain Roberts’s cape,” she blurted out, opting for the brutal truth.
Tom’s cheery smile creased his freckled face as he pulled off his soaking boots. “That was very generous of Roberts to give up his rain gear. He must be soaked to the skin.” The mischievous look in his greenish brown eyes teased her.
Gratefully, Theodora returned her brother’ s smile. “Wasn’t it?” She grinned, pulling off her poncho and wringing out her dripping hair.
“And it’s a good thing you’re so much shorter than the captain. Otherwise you’d never have fitted so snugly under his arm.”
Theodora laughed out loud at Tom’s words. “Well, you wouldn’t have wanted the poor captain to come down with influenza, standing out there without his rain gear, would you?”
The storm receded as quickly as it had appeared, and by early evening the sky was clear and filled with stars. Wandering to the edge of the camp, Theodora saw the silhouettes of the sentries in a semicircle around them. She spotted a young private, his back to her, seated on the grass with his carbine resting across his knees. She had learned that at night the guards remained on the ground, a position that enabled them to see an intruder’s outline against the sky. No one from the expedition was allowed past the picket line after dark, so anyone beyond its perimeter would be assumed to be an enemy.
With a sense of wonder, Theodora looked out at the treeless horizon and black velvet sky. Only the faint glow from the campfires competed with the brilliance of the countless stars. The air was so clear, so crisp, Theodora felt as though, if she really stretched, she could reach up and touch a nearer star.
“It’s truly magnificent, isn’t it?” a soft voice drawled at her shoulder. “But not nearly as lovely as you.”
Startled, she swung around to find Lieutenant Fletcher standing nearby. He had followed her from the campfire. She sighed as she looked upward again. “Marvelous! What makes them seem so close?”
Fletcher moved to her side. “Out here, Miz Gordon, everythin’ seems bigger than life. The storms, the stars, the people. But it’s only a mirage. A trick of nature. Things are the same size as they are back home, but on the plains there’s nothin’ with which t’ compare them. No handy yardstick t’ measure them by. The same men on the frontier, whisked back t’ your hometown in New England, would seem quite ordinary, really.”
Instinctively, Theodora knew he was hinting about Blade. She wondered if he’d seen her sheltering under the captain’s arm. But if Tom hadn’t spotted her in the pouring rain, it was unlikely that the lieutenant had.
“I can’t imagine Captain Roberts being ordinary in any setting,” she replied with irony as she smoothed the lace at her throat. Earlier she had changed from her soggy buckskins to a simple cotton frock, delighted to find it still dry iside her pack. Although Blade had left behind her fancy evening gowns, she’d discovered several daytime dresses.
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p; Fletcher placed his hand on her arm. “He’s not only ordinary, but also common. Cheap and tawdry. Roberts’s veneer of civilization is as thin as the gold finish on a gypsy’s trinket. Why do you think he discarded his uniform before he even left the fort? That alone should give you some indication of where his true loyalty lies. I’ve had the misfortune of knowing Roberts since we were in the academy t’gether, where his very presence was proof that enough family money will buy acceptance anywhere, even int’ West Point.”
“Captain Roberts’s family is wealthy?” she asked in surprise.
“How else do y’ think he could buy his way int’ polite society? Some people would allow the devil himself int’ their homes, if he were backed by enough gold.” Fletcher dropped her elbow and stepped away, a sneer marring his good looks. “But don’t let that genteel New Orleans background fool y’, Miz Gordon. Scholars claim that a man’s character is formed by the time he is five years old. Roberts lived with the savages until he was twelve. Doesn’t that tell y’ somethin’?”
”Knowing almost nothing about the Plains Indians, Lieutenant Fletcher, I’m clearly unable to make an informed judgment on Captain Roberts’s character. But I find it very hard to think of him as unpatriotic.”
Fletcher smiled and traced the edge of his blond mustache with a thumbnail. “I’ve no need to lie about him t’ you. You’ve experienced his savagery personally.”
His reference to Roberts’s attack on her person startled her, and she looked away, toward the center of camp. There she saw Tom and Lieutenant Haintzelman beside a large telescope mounted on a tripod. Blade was gazing through the instrument, sighting the stars.
“Oh look!” she interrupted, pointing to the small group. “Captain Roberts has set up the telescope. Let’s go see if we can look through it.”
Blade stepped back from the instrument and glanced surreptitiously at the approaching young woman. He smiled to himself at the success of his plan. There’d been no reason to get the telescope out of the wagon, for they were only a week’s journey away from Fort Leavenworth and had no need to take astronomical readings so soon. But he’d known that the telescope would draw Theodora away from that blasted, slick tongued Southerner quicker than anything else he had at hand.
“Sis,” Tom called with enthusiasm. “Come over here. The captain’s telescope is excellent.”
“May I, Captain?” she asked politely, barely able to suppress her eagerness. To her chagrin, she sounded like a little girl asking for a treat.
“Certainly, Miss Gordon,” he replied, guiding her up to the instrument and putting his hands on her shoulders as she bent to look through the lens. “We’ve sighted Jupiter. You can easily see its satellites.”
Tom was right. The telescope was a superbly made instrument, and the heavens swept down toward her through the glass. “Yes, I can see it,” she whispered in awe. “How beautiful!”
Blade knelt down on one knee beside her and reached up to steady the scope. “Look closely. The dark streaks are its belts and the bright spaces between are called zones. Can you find them?”
“Yes,” she answered softly.
“Peter wants a turn, Sis,” Tom interrupted. “He hasn’t had a chance to look yet.”
Tearing herself away from the telescope, Theodora reluctantly stepped aside. “Go ahead, Peter. It’s your turn,” she offered.
Blade stood up. “You can look again when he’s finished, Miss Gordon. I’ll help you find Saturn with its rings.”
A pleased smile lit her face and her green eyes shone like jewels. “I’d enjoy that, Captain Roberts,” she said brightly.
No one paid the least attention to Lieutenant Fletcher, who stood on the far side of the firelight, his long fingers clenched on his sidearm.
Chapter 7
The next morning Theodora awoke to the sound of rushing water. The rains had swollen Vermilion Creek to a fast moving stream, and now she realized why they had stopped so far above the banks. Had they encamped near the water’s edge, their site would have been flooded while they slept.
The thought of the steadily rising waters pushed the travelers along, for they were to cross the Big Blue River that day. But their efforts to race to the upper crossing were in vain, for coming upon the river they found it swollen and dangerous, not only from the recent storm but also from the runoff water from melting snowpacks in the high plains and distant mountains. A swift current turned the normally peaceful river into a frothing, bubbling caldron of freezing water. At the sight of its turmoil, Theodora’s heart lurched.
Wesley Fletcher, riding next to her, saw her terrified eyes. “Y’all right, Miz Gordon?” he questioned as he reined in his sorrel on the banks above the river.
Theodora stared down at the turgid waters and gulped. “It’s just that I . ..I can’t swim, Lieutenant.”
“You’re probably not the only one who can’t. Don’t worry. We’ll get y’ over safely.” Fletcher studied her for a moment, sympathy on his handsome features. “Y’ know, y’ can still return t’ Leavenworth,” he pointed out. “It’s not too late. I’d be happy t’ escort y’ back t’ the fort and then catch up with the expedition.”
Tempted beyond belief to accept his kind offer, Theodora swallowed her fears. “That’s very generous of you, Lieutenant, but I can’t give up so soon. I may not be able to swim, but I’m sure Athena can. And a Gordon never cries off.” Touching the ends of the reins to her mare’s side, she turned her mount and started toward the riverbank.
When she reached the others, Theodora found Twiggs busy unloading the Yankee spring wagon.
“Can I help?” she offered, puzzled that he would be taking out the tin plates, the frying pans, the coffeepot, and the kettles so early in the day.
“Yes, Miss Theo. Sure can. Got to take everything out of this wagon.” Twiggs jumped up inside and started to hand things down to her.
Theodora set the milking buckets on the grass, then turned and reached up for the ax, hatchet, and spade. “Why do we need to unload the wagon?”
Twiggs grinned and shook his white, grizzled head. His soft brown eyes glowed with pleasure. He always seemed to delight in explaining the wonders of the journey to her. “Going to turn this wagon into a boat. Yes’m. A boat. Float it right ’cross that river.”
“How can we do that, Julius?” Intrigued, Theodora lifted down the medicine chest with its supply of quinine, opium, and cathartics.
“How be the captain’s problem. He said unload, so he can make a boat. Old Twiggs unloads. Captain makes the boat.” He handed down the barometer, chronometer, thermometer, sextant, and telescope, each carefully wrapped in its own canvas bag.
Theodora watched the men work while she helped unload the supplies. The packs were removed from the horses, and the four mules were unhitched from the wagon. Two dragoons came over and assisted with the rest of the supplies, and soon the wagon was emptied. Then Sergeant O’Fallon and two privates released the axles and tongue from the wagon bed, and it was lifted up off its wheels and set on the ground.
Next water casks were emptied, stoppered tight, placed inside the wagon bed and secured with ropes. On the outside of the wagon, one cask was lashed to each side at the center. Finally, O’Fallon and six of the troopers turned the entire wagon bed, casks and all, upside down and carried it to the water’s edge.
Seeing Tom and Lieutenant Haintzelman toting packs to the bank, Theodora followed them down to the river.
Blade, who’d been checking the ropes, walked toward them. “Okay, Gordon. It’s time you started earning your keep. Calculate the distance across the river and let me know how much rope we’ll need.”
“You bet,” Tom called. “Let’s go, Teddy and Peter! You can give me a hand.”
When he’d finished his computations, Tom ran to Roberts. “Sixteen hundred feet, Captain,” he said, barely resisting the urge to salute. Since the beginning of the journey, Tom had grudgingly come to admire Blade for his strong, decisive leadership. He’d also seen the
way the captain’s features softened whenever he looked at Teddy, and knew instinctively that Blade was captivated by her. Far from mistreating her, since they’d left the fort the captain had behaved toward her with such old-fashioned courtesy that several times Tom had had to hurry away before he laughed out loud.
Blade nodded. “That’s about what I’d figured. Let’s measure out the line.” He looked up and seemed to notice Theodora for the first time. “Sergeant O’Fallon,” he hollered as he passed by her, “I’m putting you in charge of the princess.”
“Aye, sir!”
Theodora glared at the captain’s back. Just when she’d started to change her mind about him, he behaved like the oaf she knew him to be. Well, she certainly hadn’t expected him to take care of her!
All of the men, except for the soldiers who tended the live stock, the sentries who guarded the perimeter, and Tom, who came to stand at her side, gathered at the edge of the Big Blue. In the center of the circle stood the captain, hatless and shirtless and holding a coil of thin cord in his hand .
Theodora put her hand on her brother’s arm. “What’s he going to do?”
“He’s going to swim the river.”
Her fingers tightened. She looked out across the roiling water. “How can he possibly make it?”
“I don’t know, Sis, but he’s sure going to try.”
Blade walked down to the churning river and, laying the cord on the ground, sat down and yanked off his leather boots, then his socks. Standing, he stripped off his buckskin breeches and stood naked on the water’s edge. The sinewy muscles of his back and thighs rippled like molten copper in the sunlight. His broad chest was covered with straight black hair that narrowed to a thin line descending across his abdomen.
Theodora knew a genteel young lady should look modestly away, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He stood like a statue—a superb example of the male body, poised gracefully over the raging torrent. He held one end of the thin cord in his teeth. Without a backward look, he splashed into the river and dove into its roaring depths. It was heart-stopping seconds before she sighted his dark head bobbing to the surface.
Cherish the Dream Page 8
