“If anyone can survive out there, Zeke can,” he reassured her. He dismounted and lifted her down, then pulled his canteen from the saddle pommel. “Right now, I want you to have a long drink of water and then get under the shade of our tent and rest. We’ll be traveling all night.” He lifted his canteen to her lips and held it while she drank. When she pushed it away after a quick gulp, he raised it to her mouth again. “Take all you want, Theodora,” he urged in a deep, coaxing voice. “Just because the men are being rationed doesn’t mean you need to go without. You’re half the size of the smallest man here. You’ll dehydrate in half the time as well.”
She started to protest, but her thirst had become overpowering. “I’ll have a little more, then,” she said, and her voice cracked in her dry throat. She took the canteen and gulped the water, warm from the metal container, careful not to spill a single drop of the precious liquid.
Blade watched her, his midnight eyes telling her without words that he was remembering the first time she drank from his canteen. Every detail rose in her own memory, as though it’d been only days ago instead of weeks. Unconsciously, she lowered the container, as she had that first time, and held it close to her breast. The fire in his gaze was hypnotic. Mesmerized, she reached up to touch his cheek and stopped when her fingertips were only a fraction of an inch from his face. His rugged features were partially hidden by a full beard now, for he hadn’t shaved since the rendezvous, and she longed to feel it. How many days had it been since she’d touched him? From deep inside she felt the anguished cry of her achingly lonely spirit. How could she continue to love him so much, when she knew there was no future for them at the journey’s end?
When she started to draw her hand away, he grabbed it and pulled it to his face. He kissed her fingers, letting her feel the softness of his thick black whiskers.
“Miz Gordon’s tent is ready for her,” Wesley Fletcher announced in a caustic voice. They turned to find him right beside them.
Theodora snatched her hand away and shoved the canteen at Blade. “Thank you, Captain,” she mumbled, and hurried away.
As they rode in the darkness that night, the desert was ghost like and nearly soundless. The air was surprisingly cool. Beneath them the ground was a mixture of gravel and sand on which only woody, prickly shrubs existed. All Theodora could hear was the cracking of the salt crust under Spitfire’s hooves. After ninety-five days on the trail, Athena was tiring easily, and Theodora only rode her every fourth day in the hope the spirited chestnut would recover her stamina.
On the starlit flat the glint of salt crystals gave the feeling of another world, eerie and supernatural. Against the night sky they could see the dark outline of the high mountain the Bannock chief had told them about. As the dawn light broke, the desert breeze became very cold, and Theodora rode huddled under a buffalo robe.
They stopped to rest while Julius prepared the morning mess of jerky and pemmican. Coffee was being rationed like rare wine. The men sipped it slowly from their tin cups, trying to make it last as long as possible. Too tired to move, Theodora watched a private gather dry thorny shrubs, which burned quickly. Fires were lit to mark their location in the hopes that Conyers and Chardonnais would see them.
Then through the silence of the desert morning came the sound of hooves beating on the sand. With a flourish Chardonnais pulled into camp. “There’s water ahead, bourgeois,” he shouted. “And grass. It will take most of the day, but we’ll be out of this god-forbidden desert by nightfall.”
Chapter 27
They rode west reaching, at last, the river spoken of by the Bannocks. They followed the alkali river for two weeks and then turned in a southwesterly direction for three more. They skirted a series of lakes with meadow grass, sweet water, and groves of tall cottonwoods. On the last day of September they had their first view of the eastern wall of the Sierra Nevada. They camped beside a river for a day while scouting parties searched for a pass and for game. By this time provisions were low. The dried buffalo meat prepared in Bear Valley was nearly gone. One by one the hunters returned that evening empty handed. No one had found a pass. No one had seen any sign of game.
Early the next morning they followed an Indian path that Blade discovered, which he hoped would lead them through the mountains. The trail was difficult, and they were slowed by rocks and steep escarpments. When they camped the second evening, there was nothing for the horses to eat, since the ground was covered with snow, and only berries to eat for the exhausted travelers. Everyone felt the bitter cold after the warmth of the desert. They’d made poor speed, but little by little they’d reached an elevation high enough to look out onto the plains they’d just crossed. The view to the east was magnificent.
After the skimpy meal Theodora walked with Blade to the cliff edge and looked out over the desert beneath them, stretching unbroken for as far as they could see. Rivers wound across it like ribbons of silver. The very rivers they had recently followed. From their lofty vantage, they could see the lakes they’d camped beside, with the meager stands of cottonwoods. Before leaving camp Blade had quietly come up behind her, lifted off her wool shawl, and slipped a coat fashioned from a buffalo robe over her shoulders. It was cozy and warm, with the thick fur on the inside.
“Where did you get this coat?” she asked as they stood gazing at the vista beneath them. She looked up at him over her shoulder in delight. “It’s beautiful!”
His pleasure at her surprise lit his eyes. “I bought this for you at Horse Creek. I wanted to be sure you’d keep warm crossing these damnable mountains.”
“But you didn’t even know if I was coming with you then.”
“No, but I hoped you would.” He smiled and slipped his arms around her, pressing her against his hard frame. He spoke in her ear. “I see you’re wearing the moccasins Two Moons Rising gave you.”
With a chuckle Theodora looked down at her toes. She stuck out one foot and admired the intricate beading. “Yes. The fur lining keeps my feet cozy.”
“We’re going to have some rough traveling in the next few days, Theodora. I want you to take it as easy as possible. We’ll keep changing your mount so you’ll always have a fresh one. With your light weight, you won’t break an animal down like the rest of us.” His voice betrayed his anxiety as he lowered his head and softly kissed her temple. “Sometimes I’ll have to go ahead with Zeke and the scouting party. When I do, I want you to stay close to Julius. And I want you to carry your carbine with you at all times.”
Theodora turned in his arms and placed her hands on his elbows. She searched his rugged features, partially hidden now under the heavy black beard. During the desert crossing he had resumed the daily target practices with her. “I have the feeling you’re guarding me, Blade. But from what—or whom—I can’t imagine.”
Thrilling to the feel of her slim form in his arms, Blade pressed her against his hungry body. He touched a curl the wind had blown against her cheek. It was the first time she’d willingly accepted his embrace since the rendezvous. He’d waited patiently for her to realize they were meant for each other, that she belonged to him. “I just want to be sure you’re safe,” he murmured, gazing at her soft, beckoning lips.
“I feel very safe right now,” she admitted as she looked up at him.
He bent and kissed her gently, holding down with a tight rein the carnal need that reared up inside him like a rutting stallion. “I’d never hurt you, vehona,” he whispered achingly. “All I ever want to do is love you.”
A shudder went through him as Theodora slid her hands over his biceps and across his shoulders, her grass-green eyes searching his face for reassurance. Shyly, tentatively, she caressed his neck and jaw. She took his face, covered with its thick whiskers, in her dainty fingers. “I like your beard,” she admitted, a blush tinting her smooth cheeks. “It feels softer than I thought it would.”
Blade’s heart kicked against his ribs like the recoil of a Kentucky rifle. “It won’t scratch you,” he promised, his vo
ice low and hoarse. “Not even your silken thighs.”
At his words Theodora felt raw, wanton desire spread through her limbs. Her breath caught deep in her chest as he pulled her against the rigid proof of his need. Ignoring the warning voice in her head that chided her foolish behavior, she lifted her lips for his kiss.
This time he wasn’t gentle. His full, sensuous mouth covered hers. Insistently, his tongue slid across her lips until she allowed him to enter. Beneath her open fur coat his strong hands moved over her buttocks as he rocked her enticingly, beguilingly against his lean, hard thighs. Fully aroused, she breathed deeply, trying to slow her racing pulse. She pulled back against his tight hold and shook her head. Her voice was quavery and uneven. “This won’t change anything, Blade. We still have no future together. After the expedition is over, I’m returning to Cambridge—to my family and my studies.”
He released a long, harsh sigh of impatience. “How much longer do you think we can go on like this, Theodora? Not touching each other? Not loving each other?”
“As long as it takes to get to California,” she answered.
With one hand cupped behind her skull he pulled her lips toward his. “You’re wrong,” he whispered roughly, his other hand moving beneath her furry coat. “And I’ll prove it.”
He kissed her passionately, lifting her off the ground and against his rock-hard body. He held her bottom in one strong hand, and the bulge of his firm arousal pressing against her brought a longing so familiar she trembled. Before they had made love, it had been only a vague, undetermined ache for something she couldn’t even define. Now it was a driving need that threatened to overwhelm the carefully constructed barrier she’d built between them. She wanted to remove his clothing piece by piece and then her own, until they were naked in each other’s arms and standing on the edge of a precipice that over looked the entire world.
She tore her lips from his. She knew that if she allowed him to continue nothing would be solved, and she would regret her surrender in the morning.
“Let me go, Blade,” she said, and her determination must have communicated itself to him, for he released her.
Even the heavy beard couldn’t hide the tautness of his clenched jaw. “I’ve tried to be patient, princess, but I’m coming to the end of my rope. I’ll give you a little more time, but what’s going to happen between us is inevitable.”
The pass Blade had hoped to find didn’t appear. Instead, they began to encounter masses of snow in the hollows, and the animals were swamped, unable to break a trail. While the snow had been only two feet deep, the horses had walked through without much difficulty, throwing aside the snow and opening a track. Now they waded in the drifts with exertion, struggling until their strength gave out. They grew stiff and slow to manage, and the crust on the surface cut their legs so badly that a few refused to continue.
“By gar, must be four foot deep,” Conyers reported to the captain when he returned from a fruitless hunting trip. None of the advance party had found game, and it had been four days since they’d had food.
Blade turned to his second-in-command. “I want all the animals taken to the back of the column, Lieutenant Fletcher. And bring every available man up front. Give the lead men forty-minute intervals, then allow them to wait at the side of the track while the others pass.”
“How long can they keep this up, Captain?” Fletcher sneered.
“As long as I tell them to, Lieutenant,” Blade snapped. “Now carry out your orders.”
They camped late that afternoon in near silence. When Blade entered their tent, Theodora was huddled for warmth on her bedroll. He opened his pack and withdrew a handful of pemmican.
“Here’s your supper,” he told her quietly. He’d given her the same meal for the last four evenings.
Theodora took the food from his outstretched hand and looked up at him, her eyes huge with worry. “Fletcher told me today that the men haven’t eaten since we found those berries when we first entered the mountains. He says the soldiers are slowly starving to death.”
Blade clenched his fists in disgust. “Someday I’m going to cut Fletcher’s tongue out.”
“How can I eat this when I know what’s happening to them?” she asked in an appalled whisper. “I thought they were eating pemmican in their own shelters.”
Blade knelt on one knee in front of her. “Theodora, not one man out there would begrudge you this food. No one would take it from you, if you offered it to him.”
“And that’s why you’ve given it to me every night in the secrecy of our tent?” she accused, her face white with apprehension.
“Not secrecy. Privacy. I knew you wouldn’t want to eat it in front of the others, especially if you thought no one else had food.” He braced an elbow on his knee and rubbed his forehead. “You can’t weigh much over a hundred, little girl. Those men out there can afford to shed some pounds. You can’t.”
Tears blurred her emerald eyes. “I could share it with someone.”
“Who?” Blade’s sharp reply betrayed his irritation. “Which man, out of the entire thirty-eight, would you like to give it to?”
Motionless, she stared at him. Her lips trembled. “You.”
Startled, he looked at her anguished features and read the love there. Touched to the depth of his soul, he kissed her on the tip of her nose with all the tenderness he felt for her. “Thank you, nazheem. But your husband happens to be a Cheyenne warrior. Going without food for a few days is considered no more than a minor inconvenience.” He placed his hands on her hips and squeezed gently. “I don’t want you getting too skinny. I like your luscious curves just the way they are.”
A voice called loudly from just outside their closed tent. “Captain Roberts, we’d like to talk to you.”
Blade rose and held the tent flap open. Wesley Fletcher stood in the doorway in front of a small group of soldiers.
“Come in, Lieutenant. Men.” Blade moved back and allowed the soldiers to enter.
Fletcher stepped into the shelter, followed by Corporal Overbury and three privates. “Miz Gordon, I hope y’ll excuse our intrusion,” Fletcher drawled as he touched his hand to his cap.
“What is it, Fletcher?” Blade snapped. “State your business.”
A mocking smile played on the lieutenant’s pale features. “I’m speaking for these men, as well as myself, Captain. We want t’ turn around and go back. The idea of crossin’ these mountains is insane. We don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of making it.”
“You’re the one who’s crazy, Lieutenant. The only hope we have to stay alive is to keep going.”
“We want to go back, sir,” Overbury piped up. “Even the horses can’t make it. What good will we be on foot?”
Blade looked at the men. Then he raised the tent flap once more. “Tell Sergeant O’Fallon to assemble every man in camp,” he told the private guarding the front of the tent. “That includes the French Canadians. I want this whole thing settled once and for all.”
Chapter 28
In response to Michael O’Fallon’s shouts the entire brigade gathered in the snow-packed center of camp.
“I understand that a few of you want to go back,” Blade said in a voice that carried through the crowd.
Chardonnais and Guion exchanged surprised glances. “C’est de la folie,” Chardonnais called out. “That is foolish talk. We’d never make it to the first lake.”
“Even if ’n we did,” Conyers added, ” ’twouldn’t do no good. There’s no game for thirty days’ ride, ’cept’n a few mangy jackrabbits.”
“We’ll all perish if we continue as we are!” Fletcher shouted. “We haven’t eaten in days. The horses are foundering. There’s no sign of a pass through these mountains, and the snow gets deeper every day. I say, let’s go back.”
“Sure and you’re barmy, Fletcher,” O’Fallon proclaimed, his Irish accent more pronounced in his agitation. The burly sergeant looked at the other four soldiers standing beside the sneering lieuten
ant. “The man’s a fool. If you want him to lead you across that desert, you’re as crazy as he is. I’m staying with the captain.”
A rumble of agreement spread through the ranks, but the group of dissenters hadn’t been swayed. “We just don’t think we can make it through the Sierras,” Corporal Overbury complained. “I haven’t had anything to eat but a handful of berries since we left the desert. I can’t go on much longer without food.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Calvin Belknap said. “You’ll starve for sure if you go back.”
Blade held up his hand for silence. “All right, men. I’m going to give you a choice. If any of you want to go back with Lieutenant Fletcher, you’re free to do so; But no one’s taking any horses or equipment with them. Those supplies belong to this expedition, and we’re keeping them. We’ll need everything we have in the next few weeks, and that includes our ammunition. If you go, you’ll leave with the clothes on your back, your rifle, and the powder you have now. Nothing more.”
One by one, the dragoons moved away from Fetcher to stand beside Chardonnais and Guion. Overbury looked at the lieutenant and then back at his comrades. “Well, shoot,” he said sheepishly. “I guess I can last for a few more days.” He walked over to the others, refusing to meet Fletcher’s irate gaze.
Alone on his patch of snow, Fletcher clenched and unclenched his fists. “Very well,” he said at last. “I can’t go alone. But I’m tellin’ y’ now, I warned y’. We’re never goin’ t’ make it t’ California alive.”
Blade ignored his bitter words. He turned to Julius, who stood beside Theodora, watching. “Twiggs, take these four men,” he said, nodding toward the would-be deserters, “and see that they slaughter the two weakest horses.”
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