“Oh, I see. So you only kissed me to make me feel better?”
He narrowed his gaze. “First you get upset with me for kissing you, and now you’re upset because I apologized? Make up your mind, do you want my kisses or not?”
“I don’t need a man to kiss me because he feels sorry for me.”
“That’s not why—”
Giving him no chance to finish, Hope went on as though he hadn’t spoken. “Our marriage is one of convenience only. I paid your debtor and you made it possible for me to go west and make a new life for Gregory and the twins. There is nothing more to it than that.”
Indeed, she couldn’t allow her heart to become anymore invested than it already was.
A sardonic grin twisted his lips, and he made a lazy sweep of her figure with his eyes. “It seems to me that you’re getting a lot more out of this bargain than I am. A marriage, a man’s help on the trail, and a full year’s worth of work once we get to Oregon. That’s an awful lot for two hundred dollars.”
Her face flamed and she was glad for the cover of darkness. “The deal seemed fair enough when your neck was on the line. Now you want to go back on your word?”
His lips twitched. He reached forward and stroked her jaw line with his index finger. “Not go back on, maybe just renegotiate our terms a bit.”
Realizing he was teasing her, Hope jerked her chin, temper flaring. “Fine. When we get to Oregon, I’ll give you an increase in salary.”
He chuckled and dropped his hand. “Not exactly the kind of reward I was hoping for.”
“Too bad. That’s the only kind you’re getting.”
A twig snapped close by and Hope froze. Andy put his finger to his lips, his other hand going to his holster.
Her mind spun with the fearsome images of marauding Indians. Though the Indians were peaceful for the most part, it didn’t take much to set them off. A misunderstanding. An unintentional insult.
The biggest threat seemed to be in the manner of petty inconveniences. Running the horses off during the night, stealing livestock, begging for food. These things could be easily dealt with. But who knew what a group of warlike Indians might do to a couple of pioneers caught alone in the night?
Another twig snapped and Hope’s mouth went dry. Andy slipped his gun from the belt. Hope heard it cock.
“Don’t shoot,” a nearly panicked voice called from the bushes.
Relief washed over Hope. “Gregory, what are you doing?”
He stepped out from behind the bush. “Is it true?” By his accusing tone, Hope realized he had heard the entire conversation.
“Did you only marry her for money?” He spat the words at Andy.
“I guess you heard something you shouldn’t have heard, son.” Andy’s tone remained calm as he studied Greg, obviously expecting the worst.
His expectations were justified as Greg sneered, leaning toward Andy, challenging him. “I’m not your son.”
“Greg. Watch your tone. Whether Mr. Riley is your pa or not, he’s still your elder.”
He turned on her, his eyes flashing anger in the moonlit night. “You paid him to marry you?”
Standing beneath her son’s disgusted gaze, Hope felt small and ashamed. And even more so when he continued his discourse. “You’re no better than those women. . .”
Andy stepped forward in a flash and snatched Greg’s arm. “Watch yourself, boy. I won’t be held responsible for what I do to you if you finish that sentence.”
Watching the exchange between the two, Hope felt like weeping. Greg and Andy had come such a long way in the past weeks. She had witnessed Greg slowly change from a bitter, rude boy to a hardworking, swarthy young man with a daily sense of purpose. Had one unguarded moment ruined all of his progress? Her heart sank to her toes at the very real possibility.
As Greg and Andy stared at each other, Hope knew that neither would back down.
“Gregory, I will not stand for you speaking to me in such a disrespectful tone. I know you’re angry and shocked by what you’ve learned. But I want you to know, I had my reasons for doing this.”
A sneer marred his face. “Because you couldn’t—”
Andy stepped in once more. “Boy, you don’t learn very fast, do you?”
In a nightmarish second, Greg took the initiative and stomped down hard on Andy’s moccasined toe.
Andy roared in pain and grappled to regain his hold on the boy. But being adept at getting himself away from the authorities, Greg darted out of reach and ran toward the campsite.
“I’ll go after him,” Hope said, unable to meet his gaze.
She started to sweep past him, but he reached out and took hold of her arm. “Hope.”
Suddenly weary, she released a heavy sigh. “Yes, Andy?”
“He’s just a boy. He doesn’t know what he’s saying or understand our kind of arrangement.”
“I know. Thank you for championing me. But I don’t need protection from my own son. Furthermore, I am capable of meting out my own discipline.”
Despite his look of astonishment, she forged ahead. “As we’ve reestablished this evening, our marriage isn’t real. Therefore your claim to my children is not that of a father, but more like a hired hand. It isn’t your place to manhandle them when they are disobedient.”
His jaw tightened and he released her arm, his eyes hard as glass. “Whatever you say, boss.” He tipped his hat and walked away in the opposite direction, his jerky gait evidence of his anger.
Hope straightened her shoulders. She could only go after one of them and Greg was her boy. There was no question. A twig snapped in front of her. She smiled and turned toward the sound. “Greg, I’m so glad you came back.”
But the figure that stepped from the shadows wasn’t Greg. She took one look at the long black hair and high chiseled cheekbones and felt the scream at the back of her throat. His hand shot out and covered her mouth before she could make a sound.
❧
It took Andy a full hour to cool off from Hope’s admonishment. He supposed it was the only logical approach to the issue of discipline, given the fact that he would be leaving after a year. It wouldn’t do for the children to grow accustomed to him only to watch him leave and never return.
As much as he hated to admit it, Hope was right. He owed her an apology as much as Gregory did. He hadn’t treated her with any more respect than he would have treated one of the women Greg had likened her to.
He strode back into camp long after all but the sentry fires had been doused. Making his way first to Gregory and Francis’s wagon, he peeked in and nodded in satisfaction as two distinct tones of snoring were heard. At least the boy had learned enough not to run off alone on the prairie. He reached inside and grabbed his bedroll, then let the canvas lower once more.
He glanced at Hope’s wagon, thought to check on her and the children, but decided against it. Let her get a good night’s sleep. He’d apologize in the morning.
Memories of holding Hope in his arms assailed him as he tried to drift to sleep. Many women had come and gone for a brief hour or two above one saloon or another since Yellow Bird’s death, but none had taken her from his mind. Not for one second.
His eyes popped open as he realized the woman he’d been kissing had actually been Hope. Not some figment of his tortured imagination. He wasn’t sure what that meant. But there was no time for him to ponder the ramifications as Betsy’s voice called to him.
He sat up and looked to the wagon she shared with her mother and Billy.
Placing his finger to his mouth, he stood and strode to the wagon. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Where’s Ma?”
“What do you mean? Isn’t she sleeping?”
“She never came to bed.”
“Are you sure? Maybe she just had to take a trip to the woods.”
The little girl was shaking her head before he finished his thought.
“Her berth is still tied up. That’s how I know.”
Unease gnawed Andy’s gut. But he patted the little girl’s head, trying not to show his worry.
“Go back to sleep. I’ll find her.”
After Betsy was settled back into bed, Andy turned around, trying to decide his course of action. Selfcondemnation screamed at him. If only he hadn’t walked away from her before seeing her safely back to camp.
His mind moved toward two possible conclusions. One, she’d lost her bearings and wandered in the wrong direction. Two, the Indians he’d witnessed following the wagon train from time to time over the past days had recognized an easy target.
He’d get her back. But at what cost?
Suddenly he felt alone. Responsible. The fate of this woman—his wife—was in his hands. If he didn’t bring her back, three children would be left alone in the world with a man who was to blame for their mother’s fate. The weight bore down upon him, and he suddenly lifted his face skyward, remembering a longforgotten friend.
“God in heaven,” he prayed, knowing there was no time for excuses. “I don’t deserve anything from You. But there are a couple of youngsters here who believe You can do miracles. If that’s true, and I’m not saying whether I think it is or not, but if it is, I’m asking you to do a miracle now. Because that’s the only way I’m going to be able to bring Hope back to her children.”
Nine
Hope’s head felt like it might burst any second if she wasn’t allowed to sit up soon. She’d been slung facedown across the back of a horse for what seemed like hours. Fear, combined with the trail dust, made her throat and mouth so dry, she had no saliva with which to wet her lips or tongue.
Dawn was beginning to break when they finally halted. Hope could only imagine the number of miles the group had put between themselves and the wagon train. Had they discovered she was missing yet? Would anyone come after her, or would they believe her to be dead?
Just when she thought the Indians planned to leave her on the horse while they rested, Hope felt a rough hand on her back, dragging her across the saddle. She landed hard on her feet, stumbled back, and hit the ground with her backside. The fierce looking band of warriors laughed uproariously.
Too miserable to be humiliated, Hope scowled as her gaze took in the five bronzeskinned men. “Go ahead and laugh,” she barked. “If you’d been flung across a horse all night like a dead animal, you’d have a hard time standing up, too.” She swallowed hard. “I need some water. Or do you plan to let me die of thirst?”
The warrior who had kidnapped her came forward and shoved an army canteen toward her. “White woman not die.”
Hope accepted it gratefully and tipped it up in her hands that were still bound together at the wrist. Her throat closed up and she choked, spewing water out at her captor. He snatched the canteen from her hands. She gasped and sputtered, trying to apologize through her coughing so the Indian wouldn’t take a tomahawk to her skull.
When she regained her composure, she ventured a glance at the man. He scowled and offered her the canteen once more. Deciding to leave well enough alone, Hope shook her head.
He tossed her a slice of dried meat. Her stomach lurched at the thought of eating, but she knew from the lectures the captain had given that Indians took a dim view of spurned gifts. So she nodded and yanked off a chunk with her teeth.
Emboldened by her captor’s kindness thus far, Hope found her voice to ask the question screaming in her mind. “What do you intend to do with me?”
“White woman mine.”
She gulped hard, swallowing the rest of the bite. “What do you mean?”
“Need squaw.”
Outraged, Hope struggled until she stood. “A squaw!” Her temper flared at the man’s audacity. “You intend to make me a squaw?”
The warrior thumped his chest. “My squaw.”
“Never!” She stomped her foot, eliciting a round of laughter from the other braves.
He stood, barely meeting her eye to eye. For the first time ever, Hope was grateful for her uncommon height. “You my squaw!” He clapped his hand firmly on her shoulder and shoved her back to the ground.
She glared back at him, too angry to care about using good sense. “I’m no man’s squaw. I am, however, another man’s wife. And I have three children who need their mother.”
He thumped his chest again. “Five sons. No mother. You be new mother. Have new children.”
Tears pricked her eyes as she saw her new future looming before her. “Please. I already have a husband. Surely a man as—as handsome as you can find a nice Indian woman among your own people who would be pleased to marry you and be a mother to your sons.”
A scowl twisted his face. “You.”
“I–I will never surrender.”
“Then I beat until you do.”
She set her shoulders and fixed him with her gaze. “Then you will beat me every hour of every day until you succeed in beating me to death.”
Fierce anger flashed in his black eyes and a vein enlarged at his temple. Just when she thought he might strike her, commotion from the other side of the camp arrested his attention. Hope followed the sound with her gaze. Her stomached flipflopped at the sight of Andy, flanked on either side by two warriors. He stood tall and proud, and only his tight jaw betrayed his tension.
“I’ve come to reclaim my squaw,” he announced. Hope’s heart leapt. Funny how angry she’d been when the Indian had called her his squaw. But when Andy did it, she kind of liked it. And despite their precarious position, Hope felt butterflies swarm in her stomach at the thought of truly belonging to her handsome rescuer.
Her captor, the one who had claimed her, stepped close to Andy. “I take woman.”
Andy sized the little man up. “And I’m taking her back.”
“Your squaw?” he asked jerking his thumb toward Hope.
“Yes.”
“Then why you sleep on ground?”
Hope gasped. They’d been spying long enough that they knew of her sleeping arrangements?
“I like sleeping under the stars. My wife prefers a comfortable bed in the wagon.”
The brave shook his head. “I think squaw too much argue. You sleep outside so no have to listen.”
A slow grin spread across Andy’s mouth. “I see she’s already given you the sharp edge of her tongue.”
The Indian looked back at Hope, then folded his arms across a burly chest and faced Andy. “I trade her.”
“I have one horse to trade. That’s all.”
“No, one horse not enough.”
The brave reached toward one of the men holding Andy’s arms. The Indian handed him a knife that Hope recognized as Andy’s. Andy had been quite proud of the ivoryhandled knife.
“Horse and knife for squaw.”
Without hesitation, Andy nodded.
The Indian turned and stalked toward her. He jerked her to her feet and slashed the leather bindings from her wrists. He gave her a shove and she landed hard against Andy, who immediately encased her in the circle of his arm.
“Are you all right?” he whispered against her hair.
She nodded. “Are they going to kill us?”
“No. But we best get moving anyway. Indians have been known to change their minds.”
While the Indians admired the knife and horse, Andy and Hope slipped quietly away on foot.
❧
Weary and dirty, Hope and Andy walked into camp by suppertime the following night. A cheer rose up from among their fellow travelers, and the three Parker children raced to their mother’s side. “I knew you’d be okay, Ma!” Betsy proclaimed.
A tired smile curved Hope’s lips. “You did? Let me guess. You prayed.”
“That’s right.”
“I have to admit, I was doing a bit of that myself.”
“But you don’t believe in praying.”
“Some events in a person’s life lend themselves to hoping there is a source of power greater than oneself.”
Greg jerked his head toward Andy. “He found Ma,�
�� the boy said to the twins. “Not some God.”
Andy stepped forward. “I admit that I said a prayer of my own. There’s not much of a chance that I could have tracked five Indians in the dead of night and found them by morning.”
Andy smiled down at Betsy and Billy. “You two keep on praying for your miracles. Seems like whatever you’re doing, you have the Almighty’s ear.”
Captain Jack came forward and stuck out his hand. “Good to have you back. I did as you asked and didn’t send out a search party. But we would have by daybreak if you hadn’t shown up.”
“I’m obliged to you. I wasn’t sure how many, if any, were watching the wagon train, just waiting for the majority of the men to ride off looking for Hope. They might have attacked and taken a lot more than just one woman.”
“Well, I’m glad everything worked out the way it did.” The captain looked up. “Everyone try to get plenty of rest tonight. We’ve lost an extra day and will push harder the rest of the week to make up the lost time.”
Andy followed Hope and the three children back to their campfire.
Lucille stood beside the fire, a relieved smile widening her mouth. “I’m pleased to see you made it back with your scalp, Mrs. Riley.”
“Please, Lucille,” Hope said dropping wearily onto the bench. “I’ve asked you to call me Hope.”
“Yes, ma’am. Now, you sit yourself down and relax. Supper is just finishing up and I’m going to pour you a nice hot cup of coffee.”
“Thank you.”
Andy watched Hope in concern. She appeared to be on the verge of tears. He debated whether to step forward and pull her into his arms, but before he could make a move, the twins sat on either side of her.
“So how’d Andy get them to let you go, Ma?” Greg asked.
“Gregory,” Andy admonished. Did the boy have any sensitivity at all? “I don’t think your ma really wants to talk about it.”
“It’s all right. Andy traded me for a horse and a knife.” Her flat statement narrowed Andy’s gaze.
“You mean the ivoryhandled knife?” Greg asked, turning accusing eyes on Andy.
“Yes, that’s the one. And considering that it was your fault your ma got captured in the first place, I figured you’d be more than happy for me to trade it.”
Everlasting Hope Page 7
