Under Wraps

by Patricia Green

  "But-"

  "No. We need to stop; the horses need to stop. That's final."

  Her head hung, the tail of her head scarf like a white pennant in the wind. It pained him to see her looking so defeated, but the girl was too difficult by half. Someone had to make her realize that she couldn't lead them to California on her own will alone. Alex figured he was that someone.

  After another half-hour they made a camp in a small meadow between the foothills and the peaks. It was cold and quiet, with only the wind soughing through the aspens for background music.

  Glee unlocked Alex's shackles grudgingly. "I'm only doing this because it appears I have no other choice."

  "I know," he said, watching the play of firelight over her pale skin.

  "From now on," she added, "you're released on your honor. We're going to Salt Lake City. If you're who you say you are, you have nothing to fear."

  He shook his dark head. "I never agreed to that, mi corazón."

  "¿Mi corazón? What, pray tell does that mean? If I'm being insulted, I'd at least like to know it."

  "Heart. Lover. Mistress. It implies a sexual-"

  "Stop!" The wind had left her indignant sails. "I wish you wouldn't call me those things. I'm not your lover."

  "Ah, back to la pequeña tigresa, then. Little tiger." He lifted her hand and pressed it to his lightly bearded face. "But you have sheathed your claws. Gracias."

  "Don't thank me yet, Alejandro. I'm just too tired to fight you. I ache absolutely everywhere." She flashed a sparkling turquoise look at him. "Must be the lumpy mattress I slept on last night."

  "Ha!" he spouted with a grin. "Your mattress might take offence. Then where would you be?"

  Glee took the tin plate Amina offered and thanked the girl. "Things could hardly become worse, Alex," she said, pushing the beans around with her fork.

  Alex watched her for a moment, and then heard the creak of the wagon as Amina climbed in to be with Hakki.

  "I can't quite figure it out," Glee said softly.

  Alex looked up from his plate. "What?"

  "Amina and Hakki. He's a eunuch and yet... He's not."

  Alex saw the deepening of her color and forced back a smile. "He's not?"

  She glared at him and he laughed.

  "Always so fierce, mi tigresa." He chuckled. "So you saw more than just a few kisses, eh?"

  "You know I did."

  Alex nodded. "Si." He gnawed on a hard biscuit for a few minutes. "He was old enough when he was gelded for it to have left him less affected."

  "I see."

  "Do you?"

  She shook her head. "No, but I don't think I want to." Her plate got scraped into the fire, rinsed and left on a rock with a few other utensils. "I'm tired and I'm sore. I'm going to bed now." She went toward the wagon and paused near the tail. "Alex?"

  "Si, querida?"

  "How far do you think we are from Salt Lake? One more day or two?"

  He shrugged. "I think two, but it doesn't matter. We're not going there."

  Alex watched her spine stiffen and her hands clench into fists before she stalked back to him and stood, eyes blazing, before him. "Why? If you're Alex Pacheco and not Esteban Garcia, then why?"

  He stood and her eyes followed him upward. Alex felt like he was beginning to drown in the turquoise depths of Glee's eyes. "You have known me for some time, querida, and yet you still do not believe that I am who I say I am. The citizens of Salt Lake will be so pleased to have captured this Esteban Garcia that they will not stop to consider my words."

  "But there will be a trial. Surely-"

  He shook his head. "No, it would not matter. I have seen enough American justice meted out to know." Alex's hand came up to stroke the velvet smoothness of her cheek. He felt her skin vibrate through his fingertips and wondered if she was frightened or better, affected by his touch. "If you wish me dead, Glee Montrose, then kill me now. But grant me one last request."

  Her eyes were half-lidded, her voice soft and husky. She did not pull away from him. "What?"

  His head bent toward her, as if magnetically attracted to the gleam in her eyes. "Kiss me, my love."

  She groaned and closed her eyes. Alex did not hesitate. His lips found hers and softly, gently, explored their shape. When she gasped, he slipped his tongue into the heat of her mouth, and tasted her sweetness. Minutes later, he realized that his fingers were twined in her thick hair. He hadn't known that he'd removed her hair-scarf, but his fingers reveled in the heavy silken mass much as his tongue gloried in Glee's response to his kiss.

  When, finally, they broke, Alex pressed her face to his chest and held her. He stroked her back and felt the tightening of her arms around his waist.

  "I don't want you dead, Alex," she said.

  He felt the vibration of her words at his throat. "No?"

  She shook her head slightly. "No." He felt her draw away slightly and looked down into her eyes. "But, what would you do if our roles were reversed? I don't know what to think."

  His eyes roamed her face as he thought about her question. "If I found myself left with an exquisitely beautiful prisoner like you, and did not know what to believe, I would listen to what I know in my heart, querida." He pressed his hand over her left breast. "Your heart will not lie."

  A tiny frown drew her brows together. "My heart tells me to believe you, Alex. But my mind screams caution."

  He chuckled. "You are too much ruled by your head, mi tigresa." He kissed her forehead, removing the frown. "It is not right for a woman to be so influenced by thought."

  Alex could have bitten his tongue when he felt Glee bristle.

  "Are you saying that women cannot judge right from wrong based upon facts, but rather must be forever given to emotional decisions?"

  Alex pushed his hair back from his face and frowned. "No, no. It is just that-"

  She pushed away and planted her fists on her hips. "Don't bother!"

  Before he could think to react, Glee had grabbed Fletcher's rifle from the ground and was pointing it at Alex.

  "Damn it, Glee!" he said, bringing his hands up.

  "Amina!" she shouted, her look seared him with blue fire.

  "Glee, you cannot think to chain me again," Alex said, with far more calmness than he felt. "You need me to drive the horses."

  Her chin stuck out defiantly as she cocked the rifle. "I don't need you for anything, you arrogant scoundrel!"

  Amina came running, her eyes widened when she took in the scene.

  "Amina, go and get the manacles, shackles, and chain again. Our guest has decided that he misses their weight."

  Amina hesitated, but finally went for the restraints. When she had locked Alex's wrists and ankles, she turned to Glee and gestured. "Now what? You've gotten us into a fine position."

  "Damn it, Amina! I'm just trying to deal with this situation with logic. This man may very well be a thief and a murderer. Until I'm absolutely certain that he's not, I have to be more concerned with our safety than his comfort."

  Alex snorted. "And we know it's so much safer when Glee's leading the team."

  "Shut up!" She lowered the rifle barrel until it pointed toward the buttons of his pants. "Unless you wish to join Hakki's brotherhood."

  " ¡Irrazonable, frustrante, maldita mujer!" he muttered. Unreasonable, frustrating, cursed woman!

  "Ha!" she said, her voice heavy with derision. "That's better at least. I guess you're smarter than I would have guessed."

  Alex's eyes narrowed and his fists clenched. But he saw the desperate gleam in Glee's eyes and knew that she was fighting to remain in control. He knew better than to push her any further.

  She turned to Amina again. "Get him a couple of blankets. He can sleep under the wagon tonight. I don't want him anywhere near me."

  "But, Glee," Amina gestured. "He'll freeze!"

  "He needs a little cooling off, if you ask me," Glee returned.

  Amina frowned and stalked to the wagon for the blankets. She handed t
hem to Glee, and tried again. "If he gets sick from exposure, who do you suppose is going to be taking care of him? Me!" she said with violent motions. "I've got enough to do!"

  Glee flushed guiltily. "I'm sorry."

  If Alex hadn't been so mad he might have felt sorry for the redhead. She looked so forlorn. But he was mad! He told himself not to forget what she was planning for him. The bloodthirsty, little witch!

  "I- I guess he can sleep in the wagon, then, but I don't want him anywhere near me. Can't we put him over by Hakki?"

  Amina sighed, then nodded. "I'll move things around," she gestured.

  "Good."

  It took about twenty minutes, but finally, Amina signaled that all was ready. Glee rose from her position on a rock and gestured toward the wagon with the rifle. "Get inside, Alex."

  Alex's head ached, but he rested it on the rolled up wad of clothing he used as a pillow. Damn that woman anyway! One minute she was kissing him with hot abandon, the next she was threatening him with a gun. He never knew what to expect from her.

  It occurred to him that it was her very unpredictability that drew him to her. Her beauty was alluring, her mind fascinating, but her fluctuations between cold thought and heated emotion were utterly disarming. It was like a challenge he could not resist to pull her from behind her wall of intellect and into the arms of passion. His arms.

  Somehow he'd convince her not to deliver him to Salt Lake City. If he had to wring her pretty neck to do it.

  Chapter 22

  "W hat's that?" Glee asked, pointing north.

  Alex didn't look away from the trail. He knew what she was referring to, he'd been watching the narrow plume of gray smoke rise above the trees and fade into the equally gray sky for half-an-hour.

  It galled him that he hadn't been able to get more than his hands released earlier in the morning. And those only because Glee desperately needed him to lead the horses. She sat behind him with the rifle pointed squarely at his back. He supposed it was better than risking his life on her driving.

  "Smoke," he answered tersely.

  "I know that, damn you," she ground out. "Is there a settlement or a fort here?"

  He shrugged. "Don't know."

  "What do you mean you don't know? Didn't you used to live around here?"

  "Esteban Garcia used to live around here. Or at least, I presume he did. I've never been here before."

  "Mmhmm," she murmured with thick skepticism.

  "Think what you like, mujer, but you'll get the answer to your question soon anyway. We've been getting closer to whatever's causing that smoke. Should be over that next rise."

  "Oh."

  He could hear her rustling around behind him. Doing little feminine primping things, he expected. She didn't like to be treated like a woman, but she sure as hell acted like one sometimes.

  Pretty soon, she climbed onto the wagon bench next to him, the rifle left in the back. He relaxed, though it surprised him that he had been tense at all.

  "Learning to trust me some, Glee?" He grinned.

  She snorted and smoothed the skirt of her ragged dress. Her only dress Alex had discovered that morning, to his embarrassment. One of the trunks he'd left behind during the Indian attack had contained all of Glee's clothes, right down to her pantalets. "What society woman travels with only one trunk of clothes?" he'd asked when she'd confronted him. "One who's used to traveling!" she'd answered. Fortunately, she'd accepted his apology, but he was still nagged by guilt.

  Even wearing rags, she was composed and stiff-spined. "No," she said, glancing over her shoulder. "I just don't think Amina can miss at close range."

  Alex shot a look behind him and saw Amina smile. The rifle never wavered from a point somewhere between his shoulder blades and his hips. He turned back toward the trail, feeling his grip tighten on the reins.

  "Take us over to whatever that is, Alex. We're running low on water and Hakki should be seen by a doctor. Maybe it's a town."

  He flicked the reins and the horses trotted a little quicker. They'd made good time in the six hours they'd been on the road. Alex attributed it to the downhill slope of the western side of the Wasatch.

  "It's a house!" Glee said excitedly. "What do you suppose a house is doing out here, so far from anything?"

  Alex didn't answer. He steered the horses toward the homestead and watched as the details came into focus. A mud-daubed log house. A few chickens running around. A cleared area, planted with a mixture of winter vegetables. A sturdy barn with a pair of cows chewing their cuds in an enclosure nearby. And, as they got closer, the regular thwack of an axe splintering fire wood.

  The boy looked up from his task, and ran for the house, yelling something that Alex couldn't quite make out. Soon a woman came from within, a rifle lifted to her shoulder and aimed at them.

  Alex drew the horses to a stop about thirty yards from the little place.

  "Yer trespassin'!" the woman shouted.

  "We just stopped because we've got a wounded man, and we need a doctor," Glee returned. "But I can see that there isn't one here. We're very sorry to have troubled you. Good day."

  The rifle dipped. "Hey! Ya got any coffee?"

  Glee looked to Alex but he merely flicked his eyes from her to the woman and her son. "Yes. Yes, we have. Do you need some?"

  "Shore do!" She pushed a lock of limp mouse-brown hair back from her cheek and lowered the rifle completely. "I done some docterin' a time 'r two. If yer interested in a trade, come offa that wagon and bring yer coffee."

  When Glee hesitated, Alex gave her a little prod with his elbow and grinned. "Go ahead, little tiger. This was your idea after all."

  Glee glared at him, but climbed down. "You just stay there while I look into this, Alex," she said softly.

  Alex watched her climb from the wagon bench and disappear around the side of the canvas hood. There was a rustling within the wagon and soon Glee came back with a sack of coffee. She headed toward the cabin.

  He couldn't help but admire the swing of her round behind as she approached the woman homesteader, and noted again how tall Glee was. She towered over the other woman by six inches at least.

  Glee offered the small burlap sack and watched as the woman opened it and inhaled deeply. A bright smile lit her flour-smudged face. "Lordy, that smells good!" she exclaimed.

  Glee smiled back, and the woman offered her hand. "Name's Becka. Becka Totley. This here's my daughter Lisa." She indicated the pants-wearing girl beside her.

  Becka must have seen the surprise on Glee's face because she grinned and wiped a dirt smudge off the girl's cheek. "She don't look like much now, I know," she said. "But she's all I got."

  Glee looked back at Alex and he winked, greatly amused at her discomfiture. If only she knew how incredible she looked at that moment, her dirty white scarf wrapped tightly around her head beneath the battered Stetson hat, her green-striped dress tattered and torn, dirty because they hadn't found a place to wash in a week. She was clean, to be sure. He'd heard her washing each morning and evening with a rag dipped in warm water. But that was about all that could recommend her. Still, he was moved by her. She stirred a protective instinct in him that he thought only his son could raise since Magdalena's death.

  "I- I am Glee Montrose, Missus Totley. I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance."

  Becka's chin jerked toward Alex. "He yer husband, Missus Montrose? Big fella, ain't he?"

  Glee blushed. "Er, no. He's not my husband, Missus Totley. I'm Miss Montrose. That's my...guide."

  The Totleys exchanged a look that clearly said, yeah, right. But Becka didn't ask. "He the injured man you told me about? Looks fine ta me. In fact-" She squinted. "He looks a darn sight like that Salt Lake City outlaw. What's his name?"

  "Garcia," Lisa offered, speaking for the first time.

  "Right. Funny how people look alike, ain't it?"

  "Er, yes," Glee answered.

  Alex wondered why she hadn't voiced her suspicions about that uncanny rese
mblance. This was the perfect opportunity. It was odd that she seemed to be protecting him when he knew she had doubts.

  "The injured person I mentioned is in the back of the wagon." Glee gestured to the wagon and Becka walked toward it. "We were beset by red-Indians a few days ago and he took an arrow in the shoulder and received a head injury as well."

  Becka and her daughter reached the wagon, and Alex noted the older woman's sun- and wind-burnt skin, her greasy hair, and chapped hands. This was a hard life for a woman and it showed. Her features, once well-formed, were now too care-worn to be other than haggard looking. She had soft brown eyes, though; the softest thing about her, Alex suspected.