Memories of the prior night made her blush, and if there had been room to pace the floor, she would have worked off her nervous restlessness that way. She had torn the incident apart from every angle imaginable and could only conclude the fault lay in their familiarity in that lonely cabin. She simply did not kiss strangers!
She should be furious with his presumption, of course, but she knew she was as much at fault as he. What would he think of her now? True, he had not tried to invite himself in last night, but how long would that last? Her mother had warned her that one thing led to another, and Alicia now had some glimmer of understanding of what that meant. Holding hands led to kissing, and kissing led to more kissing, and beyond that she chose not to imagine. She would have to put an end to this nonsense immediately, or she might wind up an Indian squaw in the backwoods of the Louisiana Purchase.
From the opening in the sheer rock cliff above the river, a red-flanneled arm scratched at an odorous armpit while its owner sighted along the rolling river. A grin broke out on the man’s bearded face as he recognized the approaching keelboat, a grin that revealed the blackened stumps of his teeth.
“Up and at ’em, laddies,” he cried. “Mattie told you he’d find you a woman. Here she comes now.”
With varying degrees of enthusiasm, curiosity, and drunken disinterest, the motley inhabitants of the cave straggled into the dawn’s light. Since Mattie had arrived last evening bringing word of a female on a keelboat, they had stayed awake drinking and scheming. Women were rare in these parts, even more so as the river travel slowed with the coming of winter. But a woman on a keelboat full of men was a rarity indeed, and deserved serious consideration. Any woman who could service a keelboat crew would provide several nights’ entertainment for the bored outlaws of the cave.
As the others spied the boat, they began to scramble down the narrow path between rocks and shrubby sassafras and pine to the river’s edge. Judging from identical crops of thick, bushy black hair and beards, three of the malodorous group were related. The others merely possessed the mean, hungry look of the chronically unstable, men who could not live in peace with their neighbors, but took what they wanted without fear of consequences. None stayed for long in this isolated outpost, but the present gathering had come together just long enough to reach the camaraderie that made this raid possible. Brave in numbers, they clambered into the waiting skiffs at the river side and shoved into the current.
Alicia heard the first shout of warning without registering its significance. She lay on her small bunk with a book in an attempt to ignore the light tread of moccasins overhead. She did not know how Travis balanced on that angled roof, but he walked it with astonishing agility. It was the urgent pound of those footsteps racing to the bow that caused her to jerk upright.
The dawn silence had changed its tune. So accustomed had she grown to the crew’s curses that she had not noticed when they had started up again. But instead of their usual jovial bantering, they issued threats this day, a growing rumble that sent chills down her spine.
The answering cries weren’t the bragging challenges of keelboatmen. While Travis’s men bellowed their intentions of ripping the competition from stem to stern, chewing them up, and spitting them out for breakfast, the shouts from the other boat or boats were little more than a drunken roar. Alicia wished desperately for some means of looking outside.
With the crack of a gun and the crash of one wooden keel against another Alicia stumbled backward into the bunk. Though Travis would not thank her for being underfoot at a time like this, the awful helplessness of taking no hand in their fate brought tears of frustration and anger to her eyes. Fate had been too cruel before; she could not trust in it again.
More gunshots roared, and Alicia’s blood run cold at a man’s scream. The seriousness of their situation finally sank in. Her Indian guide had seemed invincible, but he was just a man and could die like any other, like the man groaning on the other side of the cabin wall now. She had no idea how many attackers there were, but their bold shouts didn’t seem daunted as they collided against the keel again. Sheer terror swept her as the battle intensified.
She could hear Travis shout orders, but never from one place. Alicia choked on the stench of gunpowder through the planking, but she muffled the coughs in her pillows. The gunfire had diminished as fired weapons were thrown aside and hand-to-hand combat ensued. Above her, she heard the grunts and curses of men rolling about the decks. She had seen the wicked knives the men used for everything from shaving to gutting fish. She shuddered as she imagined the manner in which they were employed now.
To her horror, someone crashed through the outer door, into the cabin where the freight was kept. The partition that separated her bunk from the freight was a thin one, meant for privacy and not protection. She reached for the reticule where she had stored the small pistol. She did not even know if it were loaded, but she wrapped her trembling fingers around the cold ivory handle.
Outside her door a scream of fear stopped short and died in a gurgle that made Alicia want to retch. She had heard no other footsteps in the cabin, but she knew that Travis had followed the intruder. He was out there now, standing over the body of a dead man. No one else could move that silently.
A moment later, he ran on light feet back to the battle.
A loud thunk in the roof over her head caused her to swing from one horror to the next. Alicia muffled a scream, hoping to conceal her presence. Hand over mouth, she backed against the far wall as the sound crashed against the roof again, this time with an ominous splinter.
The battle shouts raged louder. The ax continued mercilessly tearing through the split wood shingles, ripping at Travis’s carefully honed handiwork.
Just as she could see the gleam of the ax, and ear-piercing war whoop ripped through the air above.
The brute on the roof continued mindlessly hacking a hole to his prey.
The opening grew large enough for Alicia to have a full view of the outlaw’s uncovered, furred chest and massive hands. Her heart nearly stopped at the raw lust in his narrow eyes as he caught sight of her. Trapped like an animal in a cage, she suffered the horror of an earlier day when a man had looked at her like that. The memory of a heavy weight pushing her down, his groping hands pawing, the violation that had destroyed her life… froze all thought. It was instinct only that lifted the pistol. She aimed upward, striving for the strength to pull the trigger.
Although she heard no gunfire, the outlaw abruptly staggered backward, roaring in anger. Blood splattered on the bare floor. Alicia closed her eyes, but she could not shut out the sight emblazoned across her eyelids. Through the gaping hole Travis stood half naked, knife in hand, carving the outlaw as if he were a piece of wood. The savagery on his bronzed face as he drove the knife home curdled Alicia’s blood.
With his enemy dispatched to a hell of his own choosing, Travis glanced down through the splintered wood. Despair swept him as he saw the pale face of the stricken woman holding a gun below. She should never have been subjected to the river’s savages, but he didn’t have time to console her. Without a second look, he leapt to the deck to rid his vessel of the outlaws.
As they chased the last of the pirates back into their skiffs, Travis gave orders to clean up and move on. The look of horror on Alicia’s face haunted him as he worked to get the boat back on course and out of danger of running aground. He had not known she possessed a gun. He did not doubt that if he had gone a step closer, she would have used it on him.
But he could not let her terror stand in his way. He had plans for that lady. He had not yet met a challenge he could not conquer, and he had no intention of being defeated by a woman.
Travis underestimated the stubbornness of Alicia’s pride or the precariousness of her sanity. He discovered both when—with his duties done and his boat on course—he knocked on the door of his passenger’s cabin. Receiving no reply, he attempted to open the door, only to find it blocked by her heavy trunks.
“Alicia!” Angry and afraid that she might have been hurt, Travis pounded on the thin partition. “Open the door!”
“No, thank you,” came the polite but distant reply.
“How in hell am I supposed to talk to you through a damned door?” he shouted.
“Don’t,” was the pert reply.
Travis’s eyebrows nearly rose to his hairline, and his features formed into a thunderous expression. He was unaccustomed to having his orders defied.
At the black fury on his face as he erupted from the cabin, the crew dug in and kept silent as Travis aimed.for the hole in his cabin roof.
Alicia screamed and pressed against the wall as he dropped through in front of her. The tiny chamber scarcely held room for one. He glared at her pale, frightened face and cursed. At least she still did not point a gun at him.
Without a word he lifted the trunk blocking the door and flung it back in the corner. Then he opened the door and placed himself in the doorway. “I have told you I will not tolerate disobedience. The next time I call, you will answer.” Travis strode out, slamming the door behind him.
This time her scream was one of outrage, and Travis smiled grimly at the whack of the book hurtling against the hollow partition. At least he had succeeded in destroying that ladylike aloofness.
For the moment perhaps, but not for long, he discovered with regret later when the next meal was served. Alicia appeared when called, her head held high, her hair pulled into a knot, and her high-necked gown enveloped in shawls. She accepted the cold offering handed to her, and just as promptly returned to her cabin without speaking a word.
The crew glanced from one to the other, and hid their snickers. Never had they seen their captain thwarted by any man, much less a woman upon whom he had turned his attentions. This promised to be one hell of a fight, and they sat back to relax and enjoy it.
To their surprise Travis only scowled and returned to his meal. The lady ate alone.
The tense silence lasted until they arrived at the swampy land spit that marked the end of the Ohio River and the beginning of the Mississippi. A cluster of shanties had been built on this meeting place of two grand rivers, but other than a horde of mosquitoes, none of the inhabitants greeted their landing. The sound of the boat scraping the rocky shore brought Alicia from her cabin, and Travis threw her a look of annoyance when she appeared on deck.
“Go back inside. This is no place for a lady.” His words were curt to the point of rudeness as he leapt to the soggy bank to help drag the low-lying keel on to dry land. No dock existed, though a number of the craft along the bank indicated the need for one.
The day was overcast and a wind off the river picked up the fringes of Alicia’s shawl and whipped it around her. She studied the collection of shanties and wondered about their occupants. They couldn’t be pirates if Travis felt free to land here. She was tired of her own company and the same four walls. It was time she learned to fend for herself.
“Then pretend I’m not a lady,” she replied, following the rest of the crew and stepping from the boat to dry land.
“Suit yourself.” Travis turned on his heel and stalked toward the largest of the log buildings.
He could just imagine the reaction of the men inside when she appeared, her cheeks pink from the wind, chestnut curls peeking from that abominable bonnet, blue eyes wide and innocent, and wearing one of those damned skimpy gowns that revealed every curve. When the stampede began, he’d have to rely on his crew to get her out of there. Then maybe she would learn to take orders.
He had not taken into account the effect Alicia’s ladylike grace had on men who had seen nothing but prostitutes and little of them in countless months. They stared, they looked away, and they edged away in embarrassment. Travis’s lip curled as he watched one man after another sidle from the tavern after Alicia settled at a table in the corner. These men may have stayed too long in the company of other men, but they remembered the standards of cleanliness preferred by their wives and mothers. Travis reckoned the tavern’s lone bathtub would receive a good workout this night.
Understanding none of this, Alicia studied the cabin’s crude interior with interest. Mud filled the chinks between the logs, and no window broke the large expanse of walls. In summer it must be stifling, but the large fireplace at the far end kept the place pleasantly comfortable on a day like this. She wasn’t certain what kind of place it was, but the large number of plank tables and assorted crates and stools used for chairs indicated it was a gathering place of sorts. She was disappointed that no other women appeared to be present. Travis’s promise to provide a maid and the other accoutrements of respectability had taken on new meaning now that they had reached this crossroads. St. Louis waited just upriver from this intersection of rivers.
Alicia watched as Travis questioned the men who remained inside. His black hair had grown out to brush the collar of his deerskin coat. There was almost an aristocratic elegance in the proud line of his angular profile, in just the way he moved his shoulders and carried his weight. She knew men born to the society of drawing rooms who could not hold themselves with such grace as this savage. She hated him for appearing one thing and being another, like all the rest. If she were ever to have peace of mind again, she must free herself from violent men.
Vowing not to be trapped into complacency again, she swiveled her attention to a movement at the curtain dividing this room from a room in back. The light from the fire did not provide more than shadows, but gradually Alicia discerned a slight figure watching her.
Casting a furtive glance to the man serving drinks at the back of the room, the small figure eased past the curtain. Before she made it halfway to the fireplace, the tavern keeper cursed, strode across the room, and cuffed her.
Alicia instantly came to her feet.
Her movement alerted Travis and his crew. Hands reached for knives as she approached the object of the tavern keeper’s wrath..When Alicia knelt to help the fallen child to her feet, Travis stepped between the tavern keeper and her, his hand on the hilt of his bone-handled knife.
The girl scrambled to her feet, and to Alicia’s amazement, she realized that this was a woman, not a child. The expression in the young woman’s dark eyes and on her thin lips spoke of bitter experience. She might be young in years, but older than Alicia in experience. Standing, she cast Alicia a quick glance, as if to be certain of her protection, then she faced her attacker defiantly.
“I heard the man. You promised to put me on the next boat to St. Louis.”
“He’s looking for crew, not passengers. Now get back in there where you belong.” The tavern keeper’s heavyset bulk moved threateningly toward the rebellious waif.
“I am looking for a maid,” Alicia said crisply. “Come back to the table with me and we will talk about it.” She turned a cool expression to the burly tavern keeper. “Bring us something suitable to drink, please.”
Fury bottled inside, Alicia strolled to the table she had occupied earlier. She might know little about frontier life, but she understood that had the tavern keeper been a man at all, he would never have treated any young woman in such a manner.
The girl scurried after her. Sitting in the chair indicated, she craned her neck to watch as her tormentor drew mugs of ale from kegs and handed them to Travis at his demand. Alicia tensed as he expressionlessly carried the mugs back to the table.
“We’d better have a talk before you make any rash decisions.” Travis kept the tone of his voice neutral.
“Very well,” Alicia agreed. “You are the captain and I would not wish to interfere with your journey.”
The muscles in Travis’s jaw bunched and his hands knotted into fists. The girl cringed, but Alicia maintained her composure. The girl had probably never seen a man restrain himself before, and with his fingers near his knife, he wasn’t exactly the type of man she might expect it from.
Travis glared at Alicia’s companion. “If you have any possessions, pack them,” he ordered, jerking his h
ead to indicate she leave.
The girl understood and scrabbled quickly from her seat, leaving Travis to face Alicia’s cold stare.
“If you mean to take her, then there is no need for further discussion, is there?” Alicia kept her voice deliberately without inflection, although her heart pounded a little faster.
“I just want you to realize that I nearly had to kill a man over a two-bit whore. I hope your need for a maid justifies the cost.”
Alicia blanched. She didn’t know whether to believe him or not, and she allowed anger to rule her reply. “You have no right to speak to me in that way. If you object to my helping a child in distress, you might phrase it more politely and give rational reasons for doing so. Otherwise, we have nothing further to say to each other.”
Travis controlled his rage with an obvious effort that should have cost him a blood vessel. Alicia waited for him to do something violent, to confirm her opinions of him and men in general. Instead he took a step backward and made an icily correct bow.
“Forgive me for intruding. I only meant to warn you the child has been sleeping with Hans in exchange for room and board since she arrived here, and will most likely feel obligated to do the same in return for her fare to St. Louis. I trust her reputation will serve to protect yours.”
He strode away then, leaving Alicia to stare at his broad-shouldered back with incredulity and growing despair. Damn the man! Did he always have to be right?
Chapter 10
Sitting beneath the tarp Travis had nailed over the hole in her roof, Alicia listened to Rebecca Whitefield’s sorry tale. The girl was reluctant to speak and even more reluctant to tell the truth. The only time she grew animated was in her insistence that she would learn to be a proper maid and live a proper life now. Alicia had her doubts, but like Travis, she could not abandon the young woman to the brutality of the tavern keeper.
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