“It’s you and me, Eli. That’s all that matters.” She wouldn’t put their lives in more danger by acting foolishly, but she wouldn’t count on Gunther. For anything.
“He’ll shoot us in the back if he gets a chance. That man has no conscience.” Eli seemed to understand what she was thinking. “No matter how you feel about him, Gunther is here with us and we need him.”
She wasn’t going to continue that conversation. If there was justice in the world, Volner would kill Gunther instead of her and Eli. It was a dark thought, but she owned it, no matter how it stained her soul.
“Let’s get going and try to blend into the folks here so we don’t stand out.” Charlie needed to move forward and not get stuck in her feelings.
Eli snorted. “There’s no way the three of us aren’t going to stand out. Me, maybe. You with that beautiful hair and Gunther the size of a mountain? Unlikely you won’t be noticed.”
“You think my hair is beautiful?” She couldn’t help the flutter of feminine pleasure in her heart.
“I think everything about you is beautiful.” He sounded as though she should know.
“I’m not even pretty, much less beautiful.” The self-recrimination was natural. She couldn’t stop the words from escaping.
Eli blinked. “Then you’re blind, wife. You’re vibrating with life, from your freckles to your frizzy hair. Like the sun, shining bright until everyone around you can’t remember their names. Haven’t you noticed people stop and stare at you?”
“Of course. It’s because I wear trousers and use words like fuck.” She refused to believe his story about her stunning beauty. It just wasn’t possible.
He pulled his horse to a stop and reached for her hand. “No, honey, that might be part of it, but it’s not the real reason. Do you think your parents would have created an ugly child?”
She was nonplussed by his question. “Well, I, ah, no.”
“Are all your sisters beautiful?”
“You know they are. I’m the ugly duckling, like in that story.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, overcome by the passion in his voice. She wasn’t wrong. She couldn’t be.
“That’s a load of shit. You are as beautiful, if not more so than your sisters.”
“Isabelle is by far the—”
“I’m not done. You shine with a light that comes from inside you and outside you. Your hair is even like a beautiful sunset, full of golds, browns and reds. Your eyes are like the spring grass mixed with the colors of that same sunset. You, Charlotte Marie Chastain, are beautiful.” He kissed her as softly as a butterfly wing.
She stared at him, unable to muster up another argument.
“Nothing to say?” He smiled.
“No.” Her voice was husky with emotion.
“Good. No more talk of being the ugly duckling. You might wear pants, but you’re anything but ugly.” He let her hand go and straightened. “Now, let’s go stake your claim.”
Charlie could barely string two thoughts together. Eli had been a friend for so long, never speaking of how he felt about her. He’d become a different person in the last month. A man who impressed her, confused her, excited her and set her completely sideways. She had always liked Eli, trusted him. Isabelle had assured Charlie there was love, but she hadn’t been sure.
Right there, amidst the mud, shit and dirty humanity, Charlie accepted that she loved her husband. It was an odd time, but it was the right time. She loved Eli.
Eli felt like an army of ants had taken up residence on his spine. Marched up and down, as though they were building a structure around his bones that would make him crack like a glass. Cherry Creek was a cesspit. It smelled worse than a stable and an outhouse mixed with putrid food and dead animals.
What the hell were they doing there? This couldn’t be what Charlie wanted when they’d left the fort. She’d not shared much other than she wanted to leave Fort Laramie for something better. This sure as hell wasn’t better. It reminded him of being on the trail to the Oregon Territory. Only far more dangerous.
Just being there made him want to turn around and head straight back home. He was glad Gunther was with him, no matter that Eli still wanted to shoot the man. The revelations from Charlie’s fury made that doubly so. Something was done to her by Gunther’s mother, filthy sexual practices that were forced on her. Yet she’d allowed him to make love to her, enjoyed it given her pleasurable cries of release. She was a conundrum who thought herself an ugly duckling.
It baffled him to hear her disparage herself. She had always been so confident all the time. How had she come to think so little of herself? It probably had to do with what happened when she was fifteen, with Gunther’s family. Tonight he would press her for more information. He couldn’t be married to someone and not know the biggest secret that shaped her life. No matter her bluster, Charlie was wounded and he wanted to be the one to heal her.
They rode through the area, weaving between tents, fires and prospectors with loaded weapons in their hands. They fortunately didn’t raise the guns, perhaps because of the size of Gunther, but Eli had no doubt they would shoot anyone who dared to come near their claim.
It was more than two miles downstream before the crowd began to thin. No doubt whatever gold made it this far downstream was less than at the main camp area. They picked a spot at least twenty yards from the closest prospector.
“Check the area. Keep your gun at the ready.” Eli gestured to Gunther, who grunted but did as he was bade. The ground was as wet and muddy as every bit of the last camps. Eli found a semidry spot to set up at.
Charlie dismounted and patted her horse’s neck. “We’ll have to get feed for them. There doesn’t seem to be a patch of grass anywhere near here. The damn prospectors trampled this place.”
“We need to find out if this belongs to anyone or if we can camp here. I don’t want a gun in my face in the middle of the night.” Eli nodded to the cluster of tents nearby. “When Gunther gets back, we’ll talk to those folks while he guards the horses.”
“You think someone would steal them?”
“I think any of them would kill us for a loaf of bread.” He hoped she wouldn’t decide to shoot anyone before they had a chance to say howdy.
“I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this.” She looked around, her face a mixture of disappointment and anger.
“Greed drives people to do things they wouldn’t do otherwise.” He knew that firsthand. His father was a prime example of how not to be a human. “Don’t worry. We stay together, keep ourselves to ourselves, and we’ll be all right.”
She made a face. “We need to find gold, Eli. I’m not here to live in the mud without a reward for hard work. Without gold, this would be a joke.”
“There may or may not be gold here, Charlie. None of us have experience panning or searching for gold.” Eli knew nothing except what he’d heard in rumors at the fort, which was next to nothing.
“Then we find someone who can teach us.” She sounded so sure of herself, he almost didn’t respond.
“We’ll be hard pressed to find someone willing to do that.” He gestured with his arm. “They’re not living here for nothing either. They want their own gold, their own claim. They ain’t gonna help us.”
She was quiet for a minute, then she put her fists on her hips. “Then I make them.”
“This surely ain’t gonna make them like you.” He was worried she would get herself killed before he could protect her.
“I don’t care if they like me. I’ll try being nice, like Iz would be, but I can’t fail at this. I just can’t.” Beneath her tough words, he heard the undercurrent of desperation. It ate at him that she felt desperate. He had to find a way to convince her that life didn’t mean she had to always succeed. He’d come to understand what it meant to fail, and it was a bitter pill to swallow, but each time he managed to st
and a little straighter. Charlie retreated into her shell like a badger, biting anyone who tried to get close.
It was up to him to get her out of that hole and living her life. Their marriage, and their future, depended on it.
“New prospectors, eh?” An old woman—at least Eli thought she was a female—hobbled toward them. She wore a sheepskin shirt, muddy trousers and a floppy brown hat. Her hair was a mass of silver snarls that had likely not seen a brush for quite some time. Possibly years.
“Yes, ma’am.” He tipped his hat in greeting.
“Where you from?” She peered at them with her watery blue eyes, perceptive and intelligent.
“None of your business.” Charlie had her hand on the pistol on her hip. “What’s it to you?”
The old woman held up her hands. “Just trying to be neighborly.” She turned to walk away.
“Wait, ma’am. We’re just wary of strangers.” He frowned at Charlie. “We appreciate you being neighborly. I’m Eli Sylvester and this is my wife, Charlie.”
“She wears trousers,” the old woman blurted.
“We know you’re not blind,” Charlie snarled. “Old women can’t be trusted, Eli.”
“Nobody can be trusted around here, girl.” The old woman cackled. “I like you.”
Charlie shook her head. “I can smell crazy on you.”
“That’s probably shit from my dog, Rusty.” The old woman smiled, her brown teeth showing many years of neglect. She might be who she appeared to be, or she could be something far more ominous. Eli had learned not to trust someone’s outside appearance. The true test of someone’s mettle was on the inside.
“What do we call you?” Eli tried again to find out more information.
“My name is Mercy Rose. Most folks around here just call me Rosie.” She eyed their horses. “Fine horseflesh you got there. Wore out, but fine just the same.”
“What do you think being neighborly means? ’Cause in my experience, a neighbor doesn’t insult, cuss at or interrogate. Not exactly friendly-like.” Charlie crossed her arms and widened her stance. “Now you gonna be honest with us or are we never gonna talk again?”
Eli thought about asking her to tuck her straightforward method away for now, then he decided that was the wrong thing to do. Charlie needed to be herself, no matter what. Who was he to tell her to be sneaky or dishonest about how she felt? One of the things he loved about her was her ability to lay out the truth. She was who she was. The prospectors might be dangerous, but together they could keep each other safe.
“I told you I liked you.” Rosie cackled again. “We can be friendly. I ain’t got nothing to steal, but you do. Folks around these parts would kill you for a full belly if they get hungry enough. You best keep your backs to each other.”
For the first time since Rosie had approached them, he felt she was telling the truth. No doubt most people thought her a harmless old woman, but he could see that was far from reality.
“Appreciate the warning. We have one more with us, so there are three.” Eli nodded in the direction Gunther had gone. “Our friend is the size of two men.”
“I seen him. Wondered if he ate his twin when he was born.” More cackling from Rosie. “Big men make big targets. Don’t all sleep at once, especially after you start panning. Nothing is as shiny as gold, children. It makes men crazy.”
“And women?” Charlie asked. “Does it make them crazy too?”
Rosie cackled one more time, enough to send a shiver up Eli’s spine. “Oh no, women don’t go crazy. They get cunning. And if you’re not careful, you’ll be lying in the mud wondering what happened to you.”
Charlie couldn’t sleep. Their first day at Cherry Creek was not what she expected. The entire place reminded her strongly of the camps Camille had dragged them to so long ago. The smell, the mud, the filthy humanity and the mistrust and avarice. She had wanted to turn around and ride back to Fort Laramie.
Yet she couldn’t. She’d left home desperate to get away and start new. Panning for gold held a potential future, one where she wouldn’t have to depend on anyone else for survival. She could see right away that this place was not the shiny place she’d needed it to be.
The memories of those awful camps, and what happened in the wagon while they were stopped there, made bile fly up the back of her throat. She swallowed it down and forced herself to appear calm. Inside she was screaming and clawing to flee.
Thank God Eli was there to remind her she wasn’t alone. He was the voice in her head and heart that kept her sane and focused. He’d become the partner she didn’t know she needed but now couldn’t imagine not having. He was polite to the old woman while Charlie wanted to shoo her away. Rosie might have had good intentions, but that was doubtful. She was a cunning old woman who reminded Charlie of Camille.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to will away the dark memories that scratched at her brain. Instead the double darkness made things worse. Eli’s arm snaked around her middle and he tucked her against him, like an old pair of socks lying comfortable in a drawer.
Just touching him made her feel better. She snuggled tighter until she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began.
“Charlie?” he mumbled with sleep in his voice.
“Can’t sleep.” She didn’t want to chat about why and she damn sure hoped he wouldn’t ask.
“Sorry.” He kissed the crown of her head. “I have an idea that helps me.”
“Please don’t tell me we’re going to talk.”
He chuckled against her hair. “No, not talking. Feeling good.”
To her surprise, he moved his hand down her body, skimming around her hip. Tingles followed his touch and she focused on what he was doing rather than her own foolish thoughts. He cupped her pussy through her trousers, pressing into her willing flesh. Excitement and pleasure raced through her.
“Someone will see.” Her words held no power. She was glad of the blanket around them and the shadows that hid them from prying eyes. Gunther sat ten feet away, his back against a tree, facing the camp. He wouldn’t see a thing.
The heel of his hand pressed harder in a circular motion against the bundle of nerves hidden in the folds of her nether lips. Slow movements, sweet sensations she wished she could feel against her flesh.
“I wish we were in a cabin with a fire and some good whiskey. We can take each other’s clothes off and spend the night naked, finding new ways to find and give pleasure.” Her new husband had become a poet. His words excited her as much as his hand. “I want to make love to you.”
She longed to experience what he envisioned and wished they were there already. Sleeping on the cold ground in a muddy blanket was not the ideal honeymoon.
He managed to position his right hand near her breast. He reached through the shirt buttons until he found her already hard nipple. When his hand closed around the aching orb, she had to bite her lip to keep the moan from escaping. Her body pulsed with the magic his hands wrought, playing her like an instrument.
He pinched her nipple, the final bolt of lightning before an orgasm ripped through her. She jerked against him, stars dancing behind her eyes as ecstasy enveloped her, traveled through her and around her. He kissed her neck, sucking and lapping at her skin as she struggled to remain as quiet as possible.
“Better?” he whispered against her ear as he sucked the lobe into his hot mouth.
She let loose a shuddering breath. “Holy fuck, Eli.”
He laughed softly. “No, but maybe soon. I need you.” His cock was hard against her behind.
“Can I do the same to you? Uh, ease you?” She was glad he couldn’t see her hot cheeks, flushed by a release and by a bit of embarrassment.
“No, honey.” He kissed her neck again. “Can you sleep now?”
A languidness had crept through her. “Yeah, I can sleep.”
He murmu
red and removed his hand from her shirt. She wished he’d left it there, near her heart, keeping her warm. As she slid into unconsciousness, he whispered, “I love you, Charlie.”
I love you too.
Chapter Thirteen
Their first night at Cherry Creek was rough. Charlie wiggled around so much Eli couldn’t sleep. He pleasured her for selfish reasons, but then refused her offer to do the same. Stupid man. He could hardly think straight around her.
The sexual release worked on her and she fell into a deep sleep. She even snored. He slipped away at two and relieved Gunther so the big man could get some rest too.
The camp woke early, as the silver light of dawn caressed the horizon. Splashing in the creek, a few dogs barking, low murmurs of conversation. Eli watched everything and everyone. He’d had plenty of opportunity to learn how to observe at the fort. From trappers to soldiers to pioneers, there were all kinds.
Most folks at Cherry Creek were of one sort or another, but alike in one way. They were all mistrustful and motivated to keep to themselves. They barely spoke outside their own small circle of acquaintances. Some had no one but themselves. Those particular people spent their time armed with enough weapons to fell a buffalo and glared at anyone within ten feet of them.
Two women sashayed around at a slow pace, flirting and smiling at the men. Some flirted back while others dismissed them with a flick of their hand. Whores were common around camps. Many times women had no choice but to sell their bodies to survive. After Eli’s father died, it was only through luck and the kindness of strangers that his mother found a job working in the kitchen. She might have had to make a terrible choice to feed Eli and herself.
The women made their way close to him. He shook his head with a smile and pointed at Charlie. One of the women turned her back with a dismissive sniff, while the other, a blonde with sad eyes, stared at Charlie for a few moments before she sauntered away. Eli decided to watch those two. Women could be more conniving and ruthless than men, given the opportunity. He’d seen it happen on the wagon train west and at the fort. Fortunately for him, he’d married a woman who didn’t have a conniving bone in her body.
The Gem: The Malloy Family, Book 12 Page 13
