Undeniable

by Laura Stapleton

  “I know.” Nick hesitated for a moment, unwilling to admit to Sam he’d recommended something a little too intimate to Beth. “I’ve suggested she wear my new boots until she heals.”

  Sam’s eyebrows rose. “I see.”

  “She’s breaking them in for me.” His justification sounded weak once said aloud. “I can barely get them on, they’re so tight.”

  “Yes, that’s as good an excuse as any,” Sam nodded, smirking.

  The other man’s grin left Nick feeling defensive. He didn’t look up from the fish. “It’s not just an excuse.”

  “It is, and if it works, so much the better.” He gave Nick a slight punch in the arm. “I don’t want to see her lame any more than you do. She doesn’t deserve that.”

  Done cleaning, he asked, “Is it settled?”

  Sam shrugged. “It is to me. I think Mrs. Bartlett is waiting on our fish. If you want to hunt before dark, we need to get dinner eaten first.”

  His brother still shook their butter jar, compelling him to ask, “Didn’t you say the Bartletts were to supply the butter?”

  With a nod, Nick washed his hands in the leftover water and emptied the bucket. “Yes, but when I asked Mrs. Bartlett to cook for us, I’d not caught so much. She might need more.” He put the fish in and followed Sam to the Bartlett’s fire.

  They strolled up to the couple’s campsite, most of their hands already there. Nick greeted everyone, tipping his hat to Beth in particular. She grinned at him and lifted her skirt just a bit to show him the toe of his boots. He winked in approval and sat down around the low campfire with the others. As Beth readied their dinner, she was the only female in the group and the only one not deeply drinking of the whisky bottle being passed.

  Chuck, the most jovial in the group, took advantage of the captive audience to tell a few jokes. Nick gave him minimal attention after the first line. He’d heard all of Chuck’s best. Instead, he took a drink of whisky and passed it to Lawrence.

  Once he heard the group’s laughter, Chuck launched into another of his tall tales. Since he’d been there when the story happened, Nick covertly watched Beth fix their dinner. She’d already strained the butter from Sam’s efforts and had it melting in a large iron pan. Now, she peeled a few small potatoes. He removed his knife strapped to his boot. When he caught her eye, Nick held up the knife and crooked his finger. Smiling, she held up the last potato to show him he was too late and began to peel it herself.

  Lawrence nudged Nick for the whisky bottle, stopping him from watching Beth. He tried to pay attention to stories the men told, each one wanting to outdo the man before him. Instead, Nick pretended to listen as he saw Beth place a sauce pan of sliced potatoes near the larger skillet.

  When the whisky made its round yet again, he held up a hand in dismissal. “No more for me.” Nick laughed when a chorus of disappointment rose from the group. “I have it on good authority there’s a watering hole with plenty of game nearby.”

  Claude eyed the fish, watching as Beth gingerly laid each fillet in the pan. He spoke up, mesmerized by the food as he asked, “How far?”

  “He didn’t specify exactly, only that it is east of here,” Nick answered.

  While the others nodded, Daggart laughed, clapping his hands. “East? That could damn near be anywhere.”

  Nick gave the man a cold look. “I doubt it. It’s within walking distance.”

  “Hell, the whole world is within walking distance if you go far enough.” Bartlett held out his plate, addressing Beth. “Get a move on, woman. Food’s gettin’ cold. Get my milk, too.”

  He knew his face must have looked murderous when Sam shook his head. Nick gritted his teeth to keep his mouth shut. He forced a smile at Beth when she spooned his potatoes and placed a fillet on his plate. She smiled back, giving him a little extra potato. He started eating, pausing to add, “I’d like to go hunting tonight. I expect the watering hole is nearby since Jack said it isn’t far from here.”

  “Jack?” Bartlett’s head whipped to face Nick. “You’re sayin’ that old Indian told you where to hunt?”

  Swallowing his bite before replying, Nick said, “He suggested a place to find game, yes.”

  “You go and you’re walkin’ into a trap, plain and simple.” Daggart took a couple of long drinks of whisky.

  Nick noticed Lawrence shifting with impatience beside him. It wouldn’t hurt him to wait a little while more for the whisky. “Is that so?”

  Bartlett pointed his fork at Nick. “Yeah, any fool can see that Indian is going to lure us over there one by one and pick us off like rabbits in a cage.”

  Sam cleared his throat. “I have a long-standing acquaintance with Jack and know for a fact he’s a good man.”

  “Then you’re a bigger fool than your brother.” Bartlett waved Beth over to take his plate and refill his cup. “The ‘man’ as you call him, is an Indian. Indian and good don’t go together. There’s a reason they’re called savages and animals.”

  Nick clenched his fists. He’d known many more women and children murdered by more savage whites than any red. All of his Sally’s family were killed in one afternoon. He stood. Sam also standing caught his attention, stopping him from getting Bartlett in a headlock so strong he couldn’t breathe. Nick’s brother shot him a warning glare and nod. When glancing to where Sam indicated, he saw Beth staring at him with wide eyes.

  Lucky fidgeted at the tension, took a huge drink of the whisky and passed on the bottle. “Y’all want to play cards tonight? We don’t even have to bet for money if you’re chicken about losing to me.”

  Beth stepped up to Nick while holding out her hand. “I’ll take your things for washing.”

  “Take this too,” Bartlett said, lifting up his cup.

  She shyly smiled at the sudden attention from everyone as they followed Bartlett’s lead. Taking their dishware as needed and glancing from Sam to Nick, she asked, “Would it be a good idea if you gentlemen went in a group to hunt instead of one by one?”

  Nick swallowed his anger, not wanting to believe she thought of Indians as brutal animals. What he felt for Beth ran deep but couldn’t last if she agreed with her husband. If so, any feelings for her would be like rain in the desert, gone before it hit the ground. “In case there is an ambush?”

  Beth finished gathering dishes as she answered, “I suppose.” Indicating her husband with a wave of her hand, she continued, “Daggart is expecting one, but I’m thinking more for strength in numbers.” She paused when her husband snorted, adding, “You’ll need help in bringing particularly big game back, won’t you? I’m sure that’s much more of a possibility.”

  Sam smiled at her and picked up the heavier of the pans. “She’s right, gentlemen. The more of us going, the more we bring home. Chuck, Lawrence, help me spread the word. Claude, aren’t you done eating yet?” The man nodded while handing over his dishes and Sam continued, “Lucky, we’ll play cards when we get back. Nick, let’s make sure we have enough cartridges for our rifles. Not the 50s, I doubt there will be buffalo there.” Their men scattered to complete the tasks Sam set to them.

  Bartlett lay back with his legs stretched in front of him and crossed at the ankle. “I’ll just stay here and hold down the fort for you all. This party will need someone to protect them since this is a trap and you’ll all be scalped and left for dead.” He put his hands behind his head, looking very relaxed.

  The lout’s opinion left no impression on Nick, since he knew Beth didn’t agree. His heart felt like he’d been drinking soda water at the thought. Unable to resist a glance before leaving, he took a quick look at her once more. He caught her glare at Bartlett whose eyes were closed. Seeing his hatred for the man reflected in her expression, he almost felt her anger as a physical thing. Nick cleared his throat, startling Beth into rattling the plates.

  Bartlett opened one eye. “You two still here? I thought you had somethin’ to do all important like. I know Lizzy Lou can’t be standin’ there gapin’ all day.”
<
br />   Hunting required long stretches of sitting and waiting, giving him plenty of time to plan on how to get her for himself. “You’re right. I have something very important to do. Good night, then.” He smiled at her and she nodded, blushing. As they left together, Nick held Beth’s gaze. “Thank you for dinner. The food was good and the company even better.”

  “You’re welcome and I’m glad you think so.” She indicated where the other men now gathered. “Good luck tonight. I’m sure Jack is right and you’ll all do well.”

  Damn. He didn’t want to leave her side, not even for fresh game. With a sigh, he tipped his hat and joined everyone else.

  The Granvilles, their men, and a few others from the camp scattered out and walked to the watering hole. Jack had been right. They flushed out a few coveys of quail, which the men carrying smaller gauge guns shot.

  All of them wanted fresh meat bad enough that whoever scared away tomorrow’s meal might be shot themselves. This way of life was second nature to him on the trail, leaving his mind free to focus on Beth and how to get her away from Bartlett for good. He worked hard with the rest of them, and although loaded down with fresh meat, no one lagged behind. Everyone wanted to reach camp before the night grew too much darker. The men didn’t chatter as much on the walk back as they did during dinner.

  They made quick work of butchering the game, distributing it among themselves and those unable to hunt. Nick set up as much of his own as he could to dry. There was an unsaid agreement to leave the Bartletts out of the division. Nick hated leaving Beth out of the spoils. Doing so strengthened his resolve to rid her of Bartlett, if she desired.

  Nick went to Beth’s campsite to retrieve his and his men’s dishes for the morning. Knowing his reasoning as an excuse to see her, he found her knitting as she had done the first day they met. She sat by the fire, cross legged. He grinned when she looked up at him with a smile, and he asked, “Is that mine?”

  “I’m thinking so.” She motioned him to her. “If you’ll come closer, I’ll check your foot to make sure this fits.”

  He went over and sat, putting his foot near her knee and pulling up his pant leg at the same time. “Do I need to take off my boot?”

  She put her hand over her nose and mouth. Through her fingers, she said, “Heavens no. Not until you have clean socks.”

  He laughed. “You’re a very smart woman.”

  Beth put her hand on his boot, squeezing first the instep, the arch, and then his ankle. “Thank you. I don’t hear how smart I am very often.”

  As she compared the sock with his foot, Nick enjoyed the chance to watch her work. He liked seeing her long eyelashes against her cheek when she looked down. The sky reflected colors from the setting sun on her, giving Beth a warm glow. “You should be told at least once a day.”

  She blushed, the pink in her cheeks visible even in the waning light of evening. “I have a good idea of how big your foot is, so this’ll fit.”

  Nick couldn’t resist teasing her. “Sounds like you need to see my legs to be sure. I can take off my boots and roll up my pants if you like. Or just take them off entirely in case you’d like to knit me long underwear.”

  Beth pressed on his knee as if to push him away. “You tease me. I can’t say such things to you!” She picked up the knitting, making a show of focusing on each little stitch and ignoring him.

  He wanted to laugh as she tried to concentrate with him watching. Nick found he enjoyed taunting her. “Sure you can say you need to see my naked legs. I don’t mind hearing that at all.”

  She gasped and said, “Not your ‘naked’ legs!”

  “Yes, my very naked legs. Do you need to?” He leaned in to whisper. “Or just want to see them?” He loved watching Beth’s feelings show on her face. A little closer, Nick thought, and they could kiss.

  A hunger in her eyes matched his own, making it difficult to resist giving her what she asked from him. She paused and looked up at him. “It might be both want and need. If you don’t want these to sag around your ankles, I’ll need to check your calves.”

  He frowned at her calling his bluff. She laughed at his expression as he sat back, arms folded. Nick thought it just as well; he’d been pushing the intimacy a little too much. “Where’s Bartlett? Why isn’t he here protecting you from bad-mannered men like me?”

  After giving him a disgusted glance, she stared into the waning fire. “Mr. Lucky’s talk of cards incited him to find a game. He’s hoping to win whisky, if not money. I’m not sure when he’ll be back.”

  He caught her disgust like the weak catch a cold. Nick couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice, asking, “He’s nowhere around and you’re alone? What if Jack scalps you tonight?”

  Beth laughed, and giving him a wry smile retorted, “I’d rather Jack didn’t return without warning. His holding me down scared me today more than him being Kanzas ever would.”

  “Why, Mrs. Bartlett, you don’t hold the same opinion as your husband?” He nodded at a passing Chuck on his evening watch.

  She matched Nick’s sarcasm with a mocking stare. “No. I rarely ever do.” Beth glanced around and leaned in closer to him as if to share a secret. In a quiet voice, she said, “Since we’re alone, you do have permission to call me anything but Lizzy Lou or Mrs. Bartlett.”

  His gaze swept her face. They weren’t truly alone; he couldn’t do anything he wanted, but he could say anything he wanted. Fighting the urge to kiss her until they both surrendered, he instead said, “I’ll be sure to remember that, Beth.”

  She closed her eyes and shuddered. “You should go.”

  “I should, before I embarrass us both.” He paused, not wanting to leave, saying “Goodnight, Elizabeth Ann.”

  Taking his hand and giving him a squeeze, she replied, “Goodnight, Nicholas.”

  He stood and went to his own bedroll, seeing Sam already there and pretending to sleep. Nick grinned. His brother had never been able to fool him even once. “We’re on second watch?”

  With a sigh, the younger man replied, “Yes. And how is your woman?”

  “Sam,” he warned, laying out the blankets.

  “Exactly. I’m as tired of saying it as you are of hearing it.” His eyes open and glaring at him, Sam went on, “She isn’t available and if Bartlett catches on how you’re sniffing around her, he won’t be happy.”

  Nick settled into bed and closed his eyes. “I don’t care how he feels.”

  “Nor do I, but if you accidently or intentionally kill him, the others might let you swing.”

  Grinning because he already knew his brother’s reaction, Nick retorted, “Fine. I’ll wait until we’re on the prairie before letting him have a fatal accident.”

  “Pardon?” Sam propped himself up on one elbow. “His death isn’t a subject for you to plan. If something does happen to the cretin after you’ve courted his widow, you’re the guilty party and the facts won’t matter out here.”

  Pausing, hesitant to say aloud a thought from the meanest part of him, he said in a quieter tone, “Even if it’s an accident?”

  “Nick, don’t even pull somebody's leg by saying that.”

  Unable to help smiling at his brother’s warning, Nick said, “You know me better than to think I’d kill a man in cold blood.”

  “I do and know you wouldn’t.” Sam settled in for sleep with a rustle, adding, “It’s the hot blood I’m more concerned about.”

  “You have a point.” He paused for a second before confessing, “All joking aside, I want her, but not at anyone else’s expense, not even Bartlett’s.”

  A few moments passed before Sam replied to the admission. “I understand. I had the most difficult time not boxing him in the nose after his comment about Indians. If he’d known Sally, she might have changed his opinion.”

  The words felt like salve to Nick’s broken heart. Not a day passed yet that he didn’t think of his wife and child. Wanting to hear more, he asked, “Think so? Men like him have closed minds the truth can’t pry
open.”

  “Everyone loved Sally. They couldn’t help themselves,” Sam murmured in the quiet. “Even our mother accepted her after a while.”

  The lump in Nick’s throat ached and he swallowed. Four years of forced existence without her hadn’t healed his wound entirely. His heart hurt when he wondered how different his life would be if she and their son still lived.

  He’d rather distract himself with thoughts of Beth. With her, he felt like a dormant tree in the spring, as if life held possibilities unimagined before meeting her. Nick grinned. She seemed so shy and quiet until flashing a bit of wicked humor. Beth surprised him every time they talked, and every night since they’d met, he fell asleep thinking of her.

  He woke with a start to Sam shaking him. “Second watch. Let’s get going.”

  “Ug. I’m there.” Nick shook the slumber from his head. He and Sam relieved Lawrence and Claude from their watch, taking the same circular path around the wagons as the prior two men had walked. He hated second watch, preferring first or third’s opportunity for unbroken sleep. Once awake, he had a difficult time napping until dawn.

  This late in the night, everyone slept except for the nocturnal animals creeping up to the camp due to curiosity or scraps. Some people snored while even the most ornery of sleeping children appeared like angels wrapped in blankets. The late rising moon gave a ghostly glow to everything. Nick hesitated as he and Sam drew near Beth’s wagon. He wanted to make sure Bartlett kept some sort of protection over her.

  They cleared the back of the wagon to where the couple’s fire was. When he saw Bartlett on Beth, her skirt hiked up to her waist, Nick felt as if shot in the chest and gut. In the back of his mind, he’d known they had to be intimate, but when faced with reality, his stomach roiled in protest.

  “Damn,” Sam whispered. “Let’s go.” They stepped back to where the wagon lay between them and the couple.

  The crack of a palm against skin captured both men’s attention. Nick heard Beth’s voice growl, “I said no, damn you!” Another smack sounded.