Refusing to comment or even look at Wesley, she put on her much smaller pack. She was swearing to herself that she’d show no fear.
Kimberly stayed close to John and it was unusual to see her up so early in the morning. Usually she stayed in bed until breakfast was cooked. Leah wasn’t sure if Kim wanted to be near John or if he was insisting she stay there. But Leah was too caught up in her own problems to worry about Kim.
“Ready, Mrs. Stanford?” Wes asked.
Leah wouldn’t look at him, but when he started walking, she was behind him.
Now they’d been walking for hours. Leah was tired, and long ago they’d left all sights and sounds of other people. Only she and the buckskin-clad man in front of her seemed to be left on the earth.
“Can you climb up there?” Wes asked, stopping and pointing.
Leah looked up at the steep climb to what seemed to be a cave opening. Curtly she nodded, but she wouldn’t look at Wes.
“Give me your pack.”
“I can carry it,” she said, starting forward.
Wesley caught her pack and half pulled it from her back. “I told you to give me your pack and that’s what I meant. You give me any more trouble and I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you.”
Still without looking at him, she slipped out of the pack and handed it to him. It wasn’t an easy climb, especially in her long skirt, but every time she had difficulty, Wes was there with a hand freeing her skirt edge, steadying her at her waist, and once giving her a boost on her seat.
When she reached the top, she didn’t thank him but stood on the ledge, flattened against the stone wall and peering into the blackness that was the cave. “Do you think there are any bears in there?” she whispered.
“Maybe,” Wes answered unconcerned as he put their packs on the ground. “I’ll have a look.”
“Be…be careful,” she murmured.
“Worried about me, are you?”
She met his eyes. “I don’t want to be left here alone.”
“I guess I deserved that,” he half grunted, removing a heavy knife from the sheath at his side and a candle from his pack.
“Shouldn’t you take the rifle?” she asked, aghast.
“Rifles are useless in close combat. How about a kiss before I enter?”
“I’m to reward you for putting us in the middle of nowhere in front of a bear’s den? Maybe there’s a whole family of bears in there and we’ll both die.”
His eyes twinkled. “If I could but die with your kiss on my lips…”
“Go on! Get it over with.”
Wesley’s face turned serious as he disappeared into the cave. “It’s bigger than I thought,” he said, his voice sounding hollow. “There’re some Indian paintings on the walls and some signs of camp fires.”
She could hear him moving in the cave and when he spoke again his voice sounded farther away.
“Doesn’t look like there are any signs of bears. A few bones. Looks like lots of people have camped here.”
For a few minutes he said nothing else and Leah began to relax from her rigid stance and took a step closer to the cave opening. She could hear Wesley walking about and now and then see the flicker of his candle flame.
“Is it safe?” she called.
“Sure,” he yelled back. “Clean as a whistle.”
In the next few seconds everything happened at once.
Wesley said, “Uh oh,” then bellowed, “run, Leah! Hide!”
Instantly, Leah froze right where she was, smack in the middle of the wide cave opening.
In a lightning flash of buckskin fringe, Wesley came tearing out of the cave, and inches behind him was a big old black bear, its fat rippling as it lumbered after Wesley.
The bear brushed past Leah so closely that her nostrils flared at the smell of it. But she could no more move than the rock behind her could.
The bear didn’t seem to notice her at all in its pursuit of Wes.
Only her eyes able to move, Leah watched Wes tear down the hillside.
“Climb a tree, Leah,” he yelled back at her.
Tree, Leah thought. What is a tree? What does it look like?
She was still wondering this when she heard a loud splash to her left.
“Move, Leah,” she commanded herself. But nothing happened. “Move!”
When she did move, it was quickly. She ignored Wes’s order to climb a tree and took off, running toward the sound of the splash. She stopped, chest heaving, by a little pool of water that was surrounded by rock. Everything was perfectly quiet. There was no sign of Wesley or the bear. Just the birds singing, the late afternoon sunshine, the smell of grasses.
The next thing she knew her ankle had been grabbed and she was being dragged downward. Instinctively she began to struggle.
“Stop kicking!” Wes’s voice hissed—his voice alone, because Leah still saw no one.
When she paused in her struggles, Wes jerked her into the water.
“What—?” She gasped just as Wes put his hand on the top of her head and pushed her underwater.
Her breath held, furious, she saw him submerge and she glared at him through the clear water.
He pointed and she looked. There above them, sniffing the air, was the bear. Wes motioned for her to follow him underwater and she did.
He swam to the opposite side of the little pool and stuck his head up behind some hanging greenery. Leah came up struggling for breath and instantly Wes put his fingers to her lips.
With a sideways glance Leah saw the bear in the same place and she moved away from the animal, which happened to be nearer Wesley. His arms opened and he pulled her to him, her back against his front. She couldn’t struggle because the sound might carry to the bear.
Wesley caught her earlobe between his teeth and began to nibble on it.
She tried to move away.
He released her ear and nodded meaningfully toward the bear.
She tried to tell him with her eyes that she almost preferred the bear’s mauling, but Wes’s grip wouldn’t let her move.
He began to nuzzle her neck, his kisses trailing upward to her hairline.
The water was warm, heated all day by the sun, and it was relaxing Leah’s tired muscles. As Wes continued to explore her neck and the side of her face, Leah leaned back into him, turning her head to give him freer access.
“The bear’s gone,” he murmured.
“Mmm?” Leah said, her eyes closed.
Wesley ran his teeth down the sensitive cord in her neck and Leah turned a bit in his arms. Her body felt as soft and liquid as the water surrounding her.
“The bear’s gone,” Wes repeated as the tip of his tongue touched her earlobe. “Shall we finish this on land? Of course maybe we could continue in the water. I’m certainly willing.”
She whirled about, treading water. “How dare you—.”
“How dare I!” He laughed. “Why do you keep lying to yourself, Leah? All I have to do is touch you and you’re mine. Don’t leave. Let’s stay in the water. I’ve never—.”
Leah, who was trying her best to make a dignified exit to the shore, turned to face him, her eyes flashing fire. “If you are planning to inform me of your previous conquests, please restrain yourself. I have no interest in what you have or have not done. And for your information, I react to all men who touch me just as I react to you. It’s something all of us Simmons women are born with. I thought you knew that. After all, isn’t your interest in me due to my whorelike nature?”
“Damn you, Leah!” Wes seethed, moving near her. “Why do you keep saying those things about yourself? I saw you with Justin. I’ll wager he never touched you.”
“Then you’d lose your money.” Grabbing her skirt she left the pool to stand on the bank, wringing out the wetness.
Wesley stood beside her, his big body outlined by his wet buckskins. “You’ll give me what I want, Leah.”
When she didn’t look at him, he moved away. “We’ll camp over there,” he
said, nodding.
As soon as Wesley was gone, Leah’s shoulders drooped. With her wet skirt dragging behind her, she sat on a rock. She couldn’t give in to him. She could not allow herself to do that. How many times had she already lost him? They’d made love and he’d tossed a coin at her and walked away. They’d been married and he’d left her alone, bruised and pregnant. And when he’d returned from Kentucky he’d refused to look at her, he’d said he wanted Kimberly and had again rejected Leah.
Three times, Leah thought. He’d left her three times and now she was supposed to trust him? Did he find pleasure in toying with her, watching her fall for him, then leaving her? Did he need that to make him feel like a man? To him it meant nothing more than a night’s pleasure, but Wesley was something special to Leah. She’d loved him so deeply for so many years. When her father had beaten her she’d lain in pain and thought how someday Wesley Stanford would come to save her. When she’d lost their baby she’d cried, but she’d known there’d be other children—Wesley’s children. But now that she knew what he was like she feared that he’d discard her as soon as she was pregnant. After all, her usefulness would be past.
And what about when they left the forest to go to Wesley’s town of Sweetbriar? Wesley was willing to admit to a few close friends that Leah was his wife, but what if he wasn’t willing to announce the fact before a whole town? No, a Simmons must be hidden in the woods, kept secret, not allowed into polite society.
Of course Wesley was a man and, as he pointed out every few minutes, Leah was a lusty woman. So he’d take her to the woods, play a nasty little game with her where she had the choice of his bed or months in the forest, and when she gave in to him, then what? Why of course, he’d return to his clean little farm and all he had to do was announce that she’d tricked him into marriage and that she was a loose woman and any judge in the land would grant a decree of divorce. Wes would be free and Leah would be…
Leah stood, taking a deep breath. Leah would once again be left with a broken heart. And there were just so many times a woman’s heart could be torn apart and still heal. If she fell for Wesley again and he left her, she wondered if she’d be able to pull herself together for the fourth time. For her own sake, she had to resist him. She couldn’t let him discard her again.
Through the trees she saw the flicker of firelight and knew Wesley had set up camp. With a shiver she started toward the fire.
“Coffee?” Wes asked, extending a steaming mug to her.
She shook her head and reached for the skillet Wes held.
“No.” He pulled back. “You rest. I’ll cook supper.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. “Men can’t cook.”
“They can’t? Well, my pretty little wife, you just sit there and I’ll prove you wrong.”
Leah sat, her eyes on her hands.
Wesley was frying bacon, moving it about in the skillet and watching her. “Did I ever tell you about Paris?”
“Paris?” She looked up. “I’ve never heard of Paris, Virginia.”
Wesley smiled at her. That wet dress of hers clung to her, but he knew that when it was dry it’d be loose and concealing. With a grin he remembered the low-cut dress she’d worn that night at the inn. She’d look good in Paris, wearing a pretty bonnet that set off her dark hair.
“Paris is across the ocean in a country called France.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t had the benefit of your education. My father didn’t see the need to send his slave-children to school.”
He ignored her. “One night about five of us had dinner in a private room.” He stopped. “Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you that story.” He looked up at her. “Maybe you’d like to hear how my brother Travis courted Regan.”
“Oh yes,” Leah said. She’d love to hear about her friend.
“Well then, go and put on some dry clothes and while we eat I’ll tell you the story.”
Later they ate beans, bacon, biscuits, and coffee while Wes told, with much exaggeration, Leah was sure, an outrageous story of what Travis had done to win the return of his wife. There’d been hundreds of roses involved, an uncountable number of proposals on paper, and at last a circus in which, according to Travis, he had risked his life and had been the star of the show.
“How many roses?” Leah asked.
“Travis said thousands, but Regan always rolls her eyes, so who knows?”
“I’ve never seen an elephant.”
“Travis brought back a wagon load of manure, said it’d make the tobacco plants grow twice as tall.”
“Did it?” Leah asked, her eyes wide.
“Didn’t do anything different that I could tell. Now that you’ve had your bedtime story, it’s time for bed.”
Leah braced herself and the flicker in Wes’s eyes showed her that he saw her movement.
“I’ve made your bed over there,” he said coolly. “I’m on the other side. If you get frightened, let me know. I’m a light sleeper.” With that he tossed out the dregs of his coffee and went to his own pile of blankets.
Quietly Leah went to her own bed, grateful that he wasn’t going to try to entice her to his bed.
For a long time Wesley lay awake, looking up at the stars.
He hated the way she jumped whenever he came near her. And her reaction was puzzling to him. She’d wanted to marry him. According to Travis she’d first gone to bed with him because she thought she loved him. So now she had him, he’d decided to stay with her, and she acted as if he were a disease she might catch. He didn’t understand it at all.
Of course maybe he had been a little hard on her at first. It was just that he’d been so damned mad because he’d lost Kim, and Leah seemed to be one of those women he’d always detested, the kind of woman who needed no one and nothing. But as they’d traveled together he’d come to see that Leah needed a great deal. She needed someone to protect her from everyone who took advantage of her. Kim made Leah wait on her. Justin expected Leah to fall for him. And even Wesley had started relying on her. It was so easy to give a task to Leah because the word no wasn’t in her vocabulary. She seemed to think she was the world’s slave.
At first Wes had spoken to Kim about how much work she piled on Leah. Kim had been bewildered. She said Leah wanted to do all the work. Wes realized right away it was no use trying to talk to Kim. In fact, he began to realize he couldn’t talk to Kim about anything. In the evenings he’d sit with Kim and want to tell her something about himself and he’d see her eyes dart around and more than once she’d jump up in the middle of a sentence. At those times, Wesley’s eyes would dart to where Leah was leaning forward, listening intently to every word Justin was saying. And Wesley would think, she’s my wife!
Wes wasn’t sure when he began to be bored by Kim. Perhaps it was the time she screamed so loudly that everyone came running, thinking she’d been bitten by a snake. A honeybee had stung the back of her hand. Very calmly Leah had put baking soda on the sting and Wesley had led a shaking, crying Kim away to the wagon where she’d immediately gone to bed. Later Wesley had seen Leah trying to put something on the back of her own neck. It’d taken awhile to get her to show him what she was doing, but she’d leaned against some wild honeysuckle and had three bee stings on her neck.
“And you didn’t say anything?” Wesley asked.
“They’re only bee stings,” she said, shrugging.
She wouldn’t let him help her with the baking soda paste and so he left her, but after that he was much more aware of her.
And he began to ask himself questions.
Life on a farm was never easy, and contrary to what many people thought, he didn’t have a great deal of cash. Half of Stanford Plantation was his, but the wealth of it was tied up in land. Only if it were sold would Wes get his money. Travis had agreed to pay Wes what he could, and whatever complaints he had about his brother, Wes never doubted Travis’s honesty. So if Wes wasn’t rich, couldn’t afford an army of servants, what was he going to do with a wife who
went hysterical at the sting of a little honeybee? Would Wes have to plow all day, then come home and take care of the house too? Would he have to bring Kim breakfast in bed each morning?
At one time, actually while he was living under the domineering rule of his brother, he looked forward to someone leaning on him. Kim didn’t lean, she lay down most of the time.
And when he kissed her! Kim would say, “You may have two kisses tonight, Wesley.” She’d purse her lips tightly and go smack, smack, then give a coy little laugh, as if she’d done something improper and highly suggestive, and move away from him.
For a while those prim little kisses and that suggestive little laugh had enticed him. He’d believed what she wanted him to believe—that when she let herself go she was going to be uncontrollably passionate. But somewhere along the way he’d stopped believing her. He began to imagine that even after they were married she’d still be saying, “You may have two kisses tonight, Wesley.” Or maybe as her husband he would be allowed three.
Once, he’d tried to force her to some passion, but she’d pulled away from him, frightened, and when she recovered herself she chastised him as if he were a little boy she planned to spank.
He didn’t try again after that—and he stopped taking his nightly dose of kisses, if they could be called that.
And the more he pulled away from Kim, the more aware he became of Leah. He became aware of her quiet efficiency, how she handled what could have become crises. And her generosity was unbelievable. Nothing was too much for her to do. She asked little of anyone but gave very much.
The longer they traveled together, the more Wes grew to like her. He wasn’t sure exactly when he made his decision to keep her—perhaps it was a gradual one—but he knew he’d rather marry Leah than adopt Kim.
He’d wanted to tell Leah right away but somehow he sensed she might be a little reluctant to embrace him with open arms. He couldn’t figure out why she might be, because he was, after all, giving her what she wanted, but who could understand women’s minds?
So he’d thought about it a long time and decided he needed to get her into a situation where she had to depend on him—if there was such a situation. Leah was so infuriatingly competent that he wondered if he could make her need him.
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