by Merry Farmer
Poor little Alvin sighed. “I knew you’d make me do work.”
“Never mind.” Lucy took his free hand. “We’ll go get water from the spring together. That way it won’t feel so much like work.” And that way she could keep an eye out for Gideon, figure out where he’d gone.
It was silly of her to be so concerned. He had likely just gone off to relieve himself near the stand of bushes that was being used for the purpose nearby. As she and Alvin headed for the stream that Pete had pointed out the night before, she craned her neck, searching this way and that for any sign of her new friend. Her new friend who listened to her. Her handsome new friend who listened to her and filled her with butterflies and moonbeams. She really would have to do something to show him how much she appreciated his attention.
“Are you excited about moving west?” she asked Alvin as they approached the stream. A line of people waiting to fill up pails and water-skins and buckets had formed. She and Alvin took their places.
Alvin shrugged. “Beats the orphanage.”
“Didn’t you like it there?”
Alvin shook his head with a sullen frown. “No one ever wants to take kids home with them. They only want to dump them.”
“Oh.” Lucy’s concern for Gideon’s whereabouts shifted to a deep sadness for Alvin. They stepped forward in line as the pioneers in front of them filled their vessels. “Still,” she went on, choosing to look at the sunny side of things. “Now that you’re out here in the wilderness, some kind soul is bound to want to adopt you.”
“Really?” Her perked up.
“Certainly. Why, you’re strong and helpful, and you’re very good at catching frogs, or so I’ve been told.”
Alvin grinned and held the pale close to his chest. When it was their turn at the stream, he drew the pail through the clear, shallow water, scooping up as much of it as he could. Lucy offered to help carry the now heavy pail, but Alvin insisted on doing the work himself. They made their way back to the wagons through the tall grass, skirting around the back sides of the camps. It was heartwarming to see a boy his age and of his circumstances trying to make something of himself. Why, if all of the orphans were as charming as Alvin, in no time they would—
Lucy stopped short and caught her breath as Gideon stepped out from behind his wagons a few yards in front of them. He held a wash basin, which he emptied in the grass beside the trail, but that wasn’t what caught Lucy’s eye. He had his shirt off, and his trousers sat low on his hips. Very low. The morning sunlight glinted off of his still-wet chest, and my, what a chest it was. Gideon may have been a scientist, but his torso was firm and well-defined. A slight dusting of hair spread across his chest, and a line of it ran down his abdomen, disappearing into the waistband of his sagging trousers.
Lucy couldn’t have looked away if she’d tried. Her mouth went dry, and yet she had the urge to lick her lips. Giddy tendrils of excitement zipped through her. They were delicious and naughty, and certainly not the sort of things a well-brought-up girl should be feeling at the sight of a man with his shirt off. Her mother would be appalled, to be sure, but Lucy had never been one to obey all of her mother’s dictates of proper behavior. Far from it.
She may have decided to agree with her friends that there was no such thing as love at first sight, but Gideon Faraday was proving the case for tickling, pulsing, swirling feelings of some other sort at first sight.
At least until he glanced up and caught her staring at him, biting her lip.
“Oh.” He flinched and jumped sideways toward his wagon. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were standing there.” He scrambled for the side of his wagon, swiping up a shirt that was waiting for him.
Lucy swallowed a groan of disappointment as he used it to cover his chest.
“It’s not a problem at all,” she laughed. “Alvin and I were just on our way back from fetching water for Estelle. We only just came along this way. I didn’t see anything. Well, not much of anything. But what I did see was very nice. That is, you’re very fit, for a scientist. I didn’t know that scientists were as well-formed as you are.” Every clipped sentence she spoke got worse and worse, sending her boiling over with embarrassment. “I mean, I wasn’t really looking, not like that. It’s hard not to look when there’s something worth looking at, though. You don’t need to feel ashamed of anything, I can assure you.”
Blast it, he was turning redder and redder and her heart was thumping harder and harder with everything she said. He scrambled into his shirt, fumbling along the way as he tried to keep his chest as covered as possible while still poking his head through the neck-hole. The net result was that he stretched a little too far, sucking his gut in enough to cause his trousers to sink even lower, giving Lucy a peek at dark hair far lower than a sweet lady’s eyes should go. Her knees went downright watery.
Beside her, Alvin snorted with laughter. Water sloshed out of the pail he carried. “Mrs. Gravesend would whoop my backside if she caught me with my drawers that droopy.”
Gideon made a noise of distress at Alvin’s comment. He managed to get his shirt on straight, then reached for his trousers, tugging them up as high as they would go. Even Lucy had a hard time not laughing now. Everything about Gideon was so deliciously charming that she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t help the scandalous shivers that ran through her at the thought of everything she’d almost seen either.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Gideon repeated, tucking his shirt into his trousers. “I’m not usually so….”
“Naked?” Alvin filled in for him when Gideon scrambled for words.
Lucy burst into laughter. She felt terrible for it, but the thought of Gideon naked was more than she could handle. No wonder her mother had been so ready to send her back to Wyoming the long way.
The thought sobered her far too quickly. That and the genuine embarrassment that prevented Gideon from meeting her eyes.
“Please don’t take it to heart,” she said, stepping forward and reaching out, but checking herself before she touched him. “It’s the trail, after all. Who knows what improprieties we’ll all be subject to, living in such close quarters, so close to the bone for the next few months. I’m sure we’ll all be dressed in buckskins and running around like savages before we make it to Wyoming, you’ll see.”
It was hard to tell if her words had any effect on Gideon. He shuffled in his spot, running a hand through his hair and looking as though he might like to disappear into the ground. “I’ll be more careful in the future,” he mumbled.
“So will I,” Lucy rushed to add. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that. We were just going this way to take the water to Estelle, weren’t we Alvin?”
Alvin snorted one last time and said, “Yeah.” He shook his head and pushed forward, edging around Gideon’s camp.
“So you see, it’s my fault,” Lucy explained. She followed Alvin, wishing she could stay longer and find some way to soothe the blush off of Gideon’s face.
Then again, that blush was rather becoming. Even if it did come with a stooped posture, averted eyes, and penitent expression.
“I’ll make it up to you,” she promised as she tried to keep up with Alvin. “You’ll see. I’ll find a way. I’ll…I’ll learn to cook and make you a nice breakfast one day on the trail.”
“I’d rather you just forget the whole thing,” he called after her, stepping toward the now steaming coffee pot by his fire.
Lucy was too far away for a polite reply, but there wasn’t much she could have said. She doubted she’d ever forget the sight of Gideon mostly naked as long as she lived.
A few millimeters. That was all that had separated Gideon from making an absolute fool of himself in front of Lucy. If his trousers had slipped just a few more millimeters south, they would have dropped off altogether, and then where would he have been?
His biting humiliation shifted unexpectedly to a sheepish chuckle as he walked through the stretching prairie beside his wagon. He’d have been the talk
of the wagon train, that was certain, if he wasn’t already. He would have been known for the rest of the journey as the mad scientist who let his drawers drop in front of a lady.
It was a million times better than being known as the gullible mercenary who had killed a hundred men.
His stomach twisted, leaving him with so many conflicting emotions that he gave them all up with a sigh. It was better not to think about anything but the next step he had to take. That included making absolutely certain that Lucy Haskell never saw him with his shirt off again. It was safe to be friendly with her, but that’s where things had to end.
The idea wasn’t as appealing as he’d hoped it would be.
“So what’s this I hear about you and Miss Lucy?” Pete asked as he rode up alongside Gideon’s wagon.
Gideon winced and rubbed his face. So much for keeping to himself. “It was an accident.”
Pete laughed, and while it was true that that laughter was directed straight at him, Gideon found it oddly encouraging. Pete took his hat off, wiped his brow on his sleeve, and put his hat back on, still chuckling.
“I’ve seen some mighty strange things on these trail journeys,” he told Gideon. “Walking for three or more months straight can go right to people’s heads after a while, especially when there’s nothing to see but the flat, open prairie all day. It’s easier when we get to the mountains, west of Wyoming, but only because the terrain is more of a challenge and folks need to focus. But until then, I’ve seen just about everything there is to see out here.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Gideon shook his head and adjusted his own hat the way Pete had his.
“Remember one thing, though.” Pete leaned closer to him over his horse’s neck. “The women who come out this way—especially the unmarried women—they’re not like the sweet, retiring things that stay back East or who take the train. No, sir. Women on the trail are a breed of their own.”
“Oh?” Lucy Haskell certainly wasn’t like any of the ladies he’d known in Princeton.
Pete fixed him with a look that was both serious and teasing. “I’ve seen more fellas come out this way, determined to stay single, fall like flies when trail women so much as crook a finger in their direction. Folks tend to turn a blind eye when circumstances are as unusual as they get out here. No one would hold it against you for holding a woman against you, if you know what I mean.” He winked.
Gideon flushed and looked away. “I’m not planning on marrying any time soon.”
“Neither were the rest of the poor saps I stood up for as best man.” Pete chuckled and sat straighter, gathering his horse’s reins and nudging him to walk faster. His laughter grew more pronounced as he walked ahead, checking on the next set of wagons.
Gideon let out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck. He walked on, checking his oxen. Even they seemed to be laughing at him, as if he was the one who was already yoked. But that was absurd. They’d only been on the trail for three days. He’d had less than a handful of conversations with Lucy. He didn’t know the first thing about women to begin with, let alone women on the trail.
But more than anything, he had zero intention of foisting himself off on any woman. Ever. It would be cruel and selfish of him to expect anything, to ask anything, of Lucy. And if she knew half of what he’d been involved in back East…. Everyone must be blowing things out of proportion. Lucy couldn’t truly be interested. No woman could.
That assumption lasted until they stopped for lunch that afternoon.
“So I hear that Miss Lucy has her sights set on you, and that you just about treated her to a sight,” Graham Tremaine said as he sank to sit next to Gideon at the campfire. He winced in pain as he lowered himself, which gave Gideon an opening to talk about something other than all the ways he had and could embarrass himself.
“Do you want me to make modifications to your crutches so that they don’t chafe your arms?” he asked, taking one of the crutches and studying the top, letting ideas swirl through his mind in the comforting stew of his work.
Graham’s lips twitched into a grin. “I want you to tell me why a simple little statement has you red as a lobster.”
Gideon sighed and lowered the crutch. “It was an accident and a mistake.”
Graham’s mouth continued to twitch, and smile lines radiated from his eyes. “I don’t know you too well yet, but from what I do know, I believe it.”
“The problem is, I find Miss Lucy incredibly charming and attractive,” Gideon blurted before he could stop himself. “But she’d do better to keep her distance from me.”
“Would she?”
“Yes.”
Graham chuckled, lowering his head. “You know, I’ve found myself thinking something along those lines these last few days.” He raised his head enough to glance across the camps to where Estelle was dishing out the midday meal for Pete’s crew. “Funny how women never seem to stay away when we want them to.”
“Hmm.” Gideon leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees, rubbing his chin. “Who do you think is smarter about it? The women or us?”
“Us, of course.” The grin Graham sent him said just the opposite. The two of them laughed over the truth.
At length, Gideon sighed. “I told Pete that I have no intention of getting close with a woman. I have a distinct purpose, one that doesn’t involve emotional attachments.”
“But?” Graham prompted him.
Gideon straightened. “But nothing. I have important work to do, work that could help thousands of families in the West.” Work that might begin to make up for the deaths he’d left behind him. “I have no idea how to talk to women, let alone explain something like that to them. What am I supposed to do if Miss Lucy expects more from me than I can give?”
Graham shrugged. “Let her down as easy as possible, I guess.”
“Can a woman truly be let down easy?”
Graham sighed. “I have no idea. I’ve never had to let one down before. Now I think I’ll probably let every one of them down.” A cloud of melancholy settled over him.
Gideon reached out and thumped his new friend’s arm. “I think you’ll find a better future than you can see now. Me, on the other hand….” He let out a breath and sank forward into a folded posture, elbows resting on his knees, almost like he was praying for mercy, knowing it wouldn’t be granted.
“Come on. It can’t be that bad,” Graham attempted to cheer him. “You’re a man with a brain. You’ve got a purpose and a mission. That’s a lot more to offer a woman than I’ve got.”
Gideon shook his head. “There are things about me that I haven’t shared.” He spoke quietly, not sure he should be telling even Graham about those things. “Things I don’t intend to share.”
“Especially with Lucy?”
Gideon nodded. He stared at the ground in front of him, wondering how he had landed himself in the middle of an emotional pickle with a woman only days after leaving Independence.
Then again, he thought as he straightened and sucked in a breath, they were in early days still. All he had to do is keep himself to himself, avoid Lucy wherever possible, and if all went well, she would take a fancy to some other gent on the trail and turn her attention away from him.
So why did that turn his stomach as much as the thought of letting her get too close?
Chapter Three
After only a week on the trail, tragedy struck. The wagon train had stopped for midday, and the orphans were running wild. Lucy sat with Olivia on a pair of real chairs belonging to the family Olivia was traveling west with, patching up a torn skirt and watching the children tear through the camps.
“Warts,” Alvin shouted as he went whizzing past Lucy, chasing a pair of girls. “Froggie’s gonna give you warts.”
“Warts! Warts,” the girls screamed, dodging in and out of people to avoid him.
“Alvin,” Lucy called after her young friend. “What in heaven’s name are you doing?”
Alvin skidded to a stop, frog arm still
outstretched, and grinned. “I’m giving girls warts. You want some?” He lunged at her, holding out the frog.
In spite of herself, Lucy laughed. “I’ve caught too many frogs in the creek out by my Papa’s house in Wyoming to care a wit about frog warts. In fact, I’m immune to them now.”
“Really?” Alvin’s eyes lit up. “You caught frogs?”
“I certainly did.” She smiled, and Alvin smiled back at her in admiration.
It didn’t last long. A few moments later, there was a cry from deeper into the circle of camps—one that had nothing to do with fun and games. That was followed by shouts, and before Lucy knew it, everyone was rushing forward to see what the trouble was.
The trouble was Mrs. Gravesend’s heart. The strain of so many rampant orphans was too much for her. One minute she was there, and the next she was gone. The shock of it sobered Lucy more than anything else could have. Worse still, as soon as their midday rest was over and before Lucy could make sense of the sudden tragedy, Pete Evans had the wagon train move. Mrs. Gravesend was buried along the path, and each of the wagons rode over her grave to ensure that it wouldn’t be disturbed by wild animals once they were gone.
The whole thing left Lucy feeling off-kilter and sad. When the wagon train stopped again that evening, and as twilight spread long rays of half-light through the prairie, she did what felt natural and sought out Gideon.
She found him at the back of his wagon, fiddling with the small leather satchel she’d stored in his trunk the first day when she’d helped him clean up. He wore an anxious frown and stared at the satchel as though he might be sick.
“Gideon?”
He jumped, then spun to face her, eyes wide. He threw the satchel into the back of his wagon as though it were on fire. A hint of a smile touched Lucy’s lips. Gideon was far and away the jumpiest person she’d ever met. It was as if he spent so much time in his own world that remembering the real one was a jolt.
What she wouldn’t give to be part of his world.
