“I won’t share your sleeping blankets,” Evelyn had injected quickly. “I’ll perform whatever womanly duties you set out for me, but I won’t . . . not those duties.” Evelyn recalled her embarrassment when her cheeks heated at the thought of sharing a bed with Alex. Would she have agreed to his terms if he had included those demands as well?
His kiss had left her longing for all those things no one talked about, the things that happened between a man and a woman in the marriage bed behind closed doors. Nothing had ever made her feel more like a woman than when Alex pulled her into his embrace and kissed her like a true lover. Charlie Richardson had stolen a kiss once, which had earned him a resounding slap on the cheek. To compare the two would be like comparing a donkey with a blue-blooded thoroughbred.
“What’s the matter, Evie?” Alex’s lips had widened in a grin that made her want to wrap her arms around his neck and demand that he kiss her again. At that moment she might have consented to anything he asked for. Instead, his next words ignited her temper to flare to the surface again. “You’d still rather marry a warthog than consider being wed to me?” One of his eyebrows rose expectantly.
His question had confused her momentarily, but then she’d remembered proclaiming that exact thing when Henry embarrassed her the day Alex left St. Charles six years ago.
“Why, Alex,” Evelyn forced a smile. “Up until yesterday, your appearance led me to believe that you had turned into a warthog.” She had exercised all the self-control she possessed to simply force the words from between clenched teeth rather than shout at the top of her lungs. Her hands had balled into fists at her sides, and her body shook as she tried to conceal her embarrassment. He had some nerve to bring up such a humiliating incident.
“Don’t worry, Evie. I’ll do my best to keep your virtue safe.” Alex had chuckled, and walked away, shaking his head. Later he’d helped her mount the horse he’d saddled for her to ride, even offering a tentative smile. Evelyn interpreted it as his way of making peace again, and her heart had gone galloping out of control. If he continued to favor her with such boyish smiles, she might get the wrong impression and think that Alex might even like her just a little.
His stance and demeanor now, standing in the middle of a wilderness meadow by the creek, dispelled any notion that Alex had somehow found her attractive or likable. The simple fact that he agreed to the idea of a marriage arrangement without intimacy should make it crystal clear that he found her lacking. Evelyn couldn’t think of a single man she’d ever met who would be willing to comply with such an arrangement.
Somehow Alex still saw her only as Henry’s little sister. Would he ever look at her and see a grown woman before him? To his way of thinking, he was probably taking care of her because of his friendship with Henry.
And because you believe he killed your parents. Was this his way of trying to prove his innocence to her? All the pieces seemed to fall into place. Alex had agreed to protect her, and even return her safely to St. Louis in a year. His kindness made it impossible to think of him as her parents’ murderer.
“We’ll rest the horses here for a while,” Alex said after moments of silence. He turned to face her, and Evelyn’s heart fluttered in her chest. A soft smile once again replaced the taut lines of his face. He moved around her to one of the pack horses, and untied a pouch from the animal’s back. His steel traps rattled and clanked while he adjusted pouches and blankets. Reaching inside the bag, he produced several dried strips of meat, and handed them to her.
“Best I can do for now,” he grumbled. He didn’t wait for a response, and stood off to the side, breaking off a piece of tough meat with his teeth, and chewed. He held his flintlock close to his chest, cradled in his arm like a child, while his eyes remained in constant motion.
“Are you expecting someone?” Evelyn asked, trying to break the silence between them.
He shot her a look that seemed to question her sanity. “There’s always danger here, Evie. This isn’t St. Charles. If a bear isn’t trying to kill you, a Blackfoot Indian will.”
“Then why do you choose to stay here? Why put your life in danger day after day?” Evelyn stepped up to him, trying to hold his attention. His eyes darted repeatedly from her to the forest all around them.
“I’d rather die here than rot in St. Charles,” he said, his jaw clenched. This time he held her gaze. “I’m not cut out to be a farmer. Out here,” he gestured with his chin toward the mountains, “I can do as I see fit. I answer to no one, and hold no one responsible for me.”
Evelyn’s brows raised. She hadn’t expected him to divulge as much as he had. A certain longing seemed to linger in his voice.
“I’m sorry to tell you that your father died two years ago,” she said softly. She placed her hand on his arm, and he tensed instantly. His jaw muscles tightened along his cheeks. “He lost a fight at the tavern with another man. I didn’t know if you already knew. His farm is vacant now. The land rightfully belongs to you.”
Alex scoffed. Anger blazed in his eyes. “I’ll thank the man who killed him next time I’m in St. Charles,” he said, his tone icy. “I want no part of anything that belonged to him.”
Evelyn dropped her hand. She hadn’t realized how deep Alex’s hatred for his father seemed to run. Was it all because of the abuse his father inflicted on his mother? She dared not ask.
All four horses suddenly raised their heads from cropping at the grasses along the creek bank, their heads turned and ears pricked in the direction of the forest to the north. Alex stiffened and cocked his rifle. Evelyn suppressed a gasp when two riders and several packhorses emerged from between the trees. She grabbed hold of Alex’s arm and stepped behind him. Visions of Oliver Sabin caused her heart to race with fear. Alex lowed his weapon, and his body relaxed as quickly as it had tensed. Evelyn tentatively peered out from behind his broad back.
As the riders approached, one of the men looked oddly familiar, his coonskin cap partially obscuring his face. He raised his hand in a gesture of greeting, the wide smile on his bearded face showing his gleaming white teeth. Alex raised his own hand in greeting, and stepped forward, and Evelyn had no choice but to release her hold on his arm.
“Hello the camp,” the rider shouted. Sudden anger replaced Evelyn’s fear. She shot a disbelieving look at Alex, who seemed to have forgotten that she was even there.
“You finally made it,” Alex said, stepping out to meet the riders.
“Young Yancey here delayed me,” the other man said, his smile widening, gesturing with his head at the other rider.
Evelyn inhaled a deep breath. What was going on here? Had Alex deceived her after all? Laurent Berard, the man who had forced her into the wilderness, the one whose comrades killed Henry, and who bartered her to the highest bidder, rode calmly into camp, and Alex greeted him like an old friend.
****
Alex waited for Laurent to dismount, then stepped up to him and clasped his arm in greeting. Groaning silently, he shot a quick look in Yancey’s direction. How had the greenhorn weaseled Laurent into letting him tag along?
“It’s such an honor that you agreed to allow me to help build your cabin, Walker,” Yancey called. He fumbled with his horse’s reins, and appeared to have more trouble than Evie did at dismounting his animal. Just as he set his right foot on the ground, one of the pack mules he led brayed loudly and jerked its head back. Yancey lost his grip on the lead rope. His arms flayed wildly though the air as he tried to regain his balance. With a loud thud, he landed rump first in the grass.
Alex jumped to his side and grabbed hold of the spooked mule’s lead rope to prevent the animal from running off.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Alex glared at Laurent. “He should be back home in Philadelphia or wherever he’s from, sitting in some fancy parlor discussing the latest women’s fashion.”
“Monsieur Yancey here needs a taste of the wilderness, don’t you think, Walker?” Laurent asked. “He is eager to learn about the fur trade
. It will be good for him. I have taken him under my wing, so you need not concern yourself for his safety. I believe you have much more important things that will hold your attention.” His eyes darted to where Evelyn stood. Wide-eyed, and with her mouth drawn in a tight line, the look of shock and anger on her pretty face was almost comical. Alex imagined daggers shooting from her eyes at any moment.
Yancey groaned and pushed himself up off the ground, then slapped at the dirt on his britches. Laurent handed him the reins to his horse and stepped around Alex, his wide smile back on his face. He held his arms wide open as if he meant to embrace Evelyn like a long-lost friend.
“Mademoiselle Lewis,” Laurent called, pure joy in his tone. Ignoring her obvious look of disdain, he grasped her hand and brought it up to his lips. For a second, she didn’t respond. Then she yanked her hand away. She squared her shoulders and stared straight at Laurent, her narrowed eyes blazing with anger. Alex suppressed a grin. She was spitting mad like a cornered bobcat with its paw stuck in a trap. She would start hissing at any moment. His chest swelled with pride and admiration for her.
Laurent appeared ignorant to the impending verbal attack, and glanced over his shoulder at Alex, a question in his eyes. “Excusez-moi. Perhaps it is more proper to address you as Madame Walker now?”
“I am not your mademoiselle, and I’m most definitely no one’s madame.” Evelyn spoke heatedly, her voice deeper than usual. Her cheeks had turned an almost deep shade of crimson. She advanced on Laurent, her hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
“You are a lying, evil, despicable excuse for a man. You rob and murder innocent people.” Abruptly, she tore her eyes from Laurent and turned her anger toward Alex. “And you,” she nearly shouted, stepping quickly around Laurent and advancing on him. “You are in league with him. I started to trust you.” She poked a finger at his chest. “But you’re no better than he is. He killed my brother, and you knew about it all along. Who are you meeting next? Is Oliver Sabin going to arrive soon, so you can hand me over to him?”
Evelyn stood only inches from him, leaning forward and glaring up at him. Her eyes shimmered with the tears she fought to hold back. Something tightened in Alex’s chest at that moment. A warm sensation flowed through him. Here she was, all alone and surrounded by three men whom she thought meant to do her harm, yet she stood her ground. Her renewed fear of him tore at his heart.
Quicker than he would have given her credit for, her arm reached out and up, her intent to strike at him all too clear. Alex intercepted her blow by grabbing hold of her wrist. His first instinct was to incapacitate his opponent, twist her arm behind her back until she begged for mercy, but this was Evie, not some enemy warrior. Instead, he loosened his grip and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her into his arms. A powerful urge to shield her from all the hurt that had been done to her hit him with the force of an arrow to the chest.
Evelyn struggled in his embrace. “Release me, you brute,” she hissed, squirming to free herself. His hold tightened, and he struggled to pin her arms to her sides to keep her from trying to strike him again.
“Laurent is not the enemy, Evie. And neither am I,” he whispered against her ear. “If you’ll calm down enough to listen, I’ll explain.” The desire to simply kiss her like he’d done this morning overwhelmed him. She’d been so soft and pliant in his arms, her response so unexpected, his restraint had nearly faltered. Would she react the same way now if he tried to repeat his actions? He couldn’t put himself through the torment of another kiss, wanting to do so much more, and knowing that Evie mistrusted and most likely hated him.
Although she stopped her struggles, Evelyn refused to relax against his hold. Her muscles remained as tense as a flighty deer, but at least she stopped fighting him. When he was sure she wouldn’t try and hit him or bolt, he took a step back. His hold on her eased, and with great reluctance, he released her completely. The sudden emptiness in his arms surprised him. She fit so perfectly against him, it was as if she was meant for him alone.
She can’t be yours. You promised to protect her, not hold her prisoner. Evie wanted to return to St. Louis, and it was for the best. He knew how quickly he could lose control of his temper, just as his father had always done. He couldn’t risk hurting Evie.
“All right. Explain.” Evelyn took a step back, and folded her arms under her heaving breasts. Alex’s eyes lingered on her shirt before he forced his gaze to her face. Her emerald eyes still glistened with unshed tears. He quickly glanced over his shoulder. Laurent and Yancey stood checking their gear tied to the pack animals, their backs turned in an obvious attempt to give him some privacy with Evie.
He quickly explained Laurent’s involvement with the Rocky Mountain Fur Company, and how he acted as spy against Sabin and his men.
“There was nothing he could do to help Henry, Evie. He had no idea they were about to kill him.”
Evelyn wheeled around, leaving him to stare at her back. The sun hit her hair in such a way that it shone like copper against the blue sky. His hand reached out, compelled to run his fingers through the soft strands. He caught himself before he touched her, and dropped his arm against his side, his hand clenched in a tight fist. How he would endure the months ahead without touching her was a mystery to him. Perhaps he should return her to St. Louis now, then she’d be safe from the dangers of the wilderness, and also safe from him.
“If we ride now, we can still cover several miles before nightfall,” Laurent called from behind him. Alex cursed under his breath.
Evelyn spun around, and shot him an icy look. She rushed past him to her horse.
“Mr. Yancey, would you care to help me onto my horse?” she called loudly. Yancey shot a surprised look at her before his eyes darted nervously to Alex. Alex cursed again. Before Yancey had a chance to react, Alex strode to Evie’s side, and lifted her unceremoniously into the saddle.
“You’re my wife,” he said through clenched teeth, staring up at her. Sudden jealousy fueled his anger. “You’ll ask me for assistance.” He handed her the reins and didn’t wait for a reply. Mounting his own horse, he guided his animal through the creek, and wrapped the lead ropes of his pack animals around the horn of his saddle to free his hand to hold his rifle. He set a brisk pace across the meadow heading toward the Teton Mountains. Laurent pulled his horse up alongside his, and Alex ignored the sideways glances the Frenchman shot him on occasion. Thankfully, his friend remained quiet, which allowed him to focus on the sounds behind him.
Yancey rode alongside Evie, commenting on the vastness and the beauty of the wilderness. She remained silent, no doubt pondering what she’d found out today, wondering whom to believe and trust.
“You know the Indians call him Shadow Walker, don’t you,” Yancey said in a hushed voice.
“What does that mean?” Evie asked, the tone of her voice indicating mild interest.
“Your husband; he’s somewhat of a legend among the Indians.”
Evie scoffed. “Alex Walker may be a legend among the Indians, but to me he’s nothing but a warthog.”
Alex’s mouth formed a smile despite all his reservations.
Chapter 9
“Would you care for some boudin, Madame Evie?”
Laurent sliced a large round sliver off of what looked like a pale, oversized sausage and held it out to her.
“I’ve asked you before to stop calling me madam.” Evelyn shot an annoyed look at the Frenchman. She huddled under a thick buffalo robe, sitting as close to the campfire as she dared. She sniffled, her nose and cheeks numb from the sudden frigid shift in temperature as twilight descended on the camp. A cold gust of wind whipped strands of her hair around her face, and Evelyn swiped it back with an impatient stroke of her hand. She glanced at the clouds moving swiftly across the sky, wondering if rain wasn’t far away. The days and nights had been pleasant so far, but today had been unbearably chilly.
The last three days had been spent traveling over high alpine plateaus
and meadows covered in sedge and willow. Today, Alex had called an early halt to their travels so that he could go hunting before nightfall to replenish their supply of meat. At Laurent’s urging, he had reluctantly agreed to take Yancey along with him. Laurent had been left behind to set up camp and watch over Evelyn.
Her stomach grumbled, and she warily eyed what the Frenchman offered. Her appetite vanished instantly. During her weeks of traveling with Laurent and his murderous cohorts, she’d seen them eat a variety of unappealing food items. Even during the last three days of moving through this endless wilderness with her present company, the men had offered her foods that made her stomach roil.
“Don’t you men ever eat anything that is actually fit for consumption?” Evelyn averted her eyes from the food. It reminded her of the slop she used to feed her mother’s hogs.
Laurent held a dramatic hand to his chest, as if deeply offended at her for declining his offer. “Meat is meat. And this is a delicacy, mon amie.” He glanced around camp and over his shoulder, as if expecting someone to swoop in and steal the delicacy from him. He leaned toward her, and whispered, “I have been saving this for when I do not have to share it with the others.”
“What is it made of . . . that thing you call a delicacy?” Evelyn asked, more to keep the conversation going than out of curiosity. Laurent was the only person who spoke to her regularly, and as much as she wanted to remain angry with him, his friendly demeanor made him almost likable. Byron Yancey was too scared of Alex to speak to her directly, unless she addressed him first. Alex had apparently decided to ignore her for the most part since they met up with his companions three days ago.
Thinking of Alex as her parents’ killer became more difficult with each passing day. Even though he’d barely spoken to her in the last three days, and seemed to avoid her whenever possible, the way he observed her from a distance was almost as intense as if he touched her. Each day that passed made it more impossible for her to ignore his heated glances. When she caught him staring, her heart always leapt to her throat, and a tingling sensation suffused her insides. Why was he so difficult to figure out? Why did he not engage in conversation with her? Yancey’s distance she could understand. The man worshipped the ground Alex walked on, and didn’t do anything unless told to do so. Silently, Evelyn agreed with Alex that Yancey belonged in a fancy parlor rather than in this untamed wilderness. The only man truly at ease with her was Laurent.
Teton Sunrise (Teton Romance Trilogy) Page 8
