Sitting next to her, the Frenchman chuckled heartily, and she remembered she’d asked him about the thing he considered a delicacy. “Why, madame, this boudin is stuffed with the meat of bison shoulder, some kidney suet, flour, and pepper. I have cooked it to perfection in bison oil.”
Evelyn wrinkled her nose. “You enjoy it then,” she said quickly, fanning her hand through the air as if trying to dispel an offensive odor. “I’d rather not eat it.”
“You must eat to maintain your strength. What will your husband do to me if he learns that I have allowed his woman to starve?”
Evelyn adjusted her position on the ground, taking care to keep the warm robe wrapped tightly around her. Freezing to death seemed a more immediate concern to her than starvation. Laurent reached toward the woodpile next to him, and added several more logs to the fire.
“If you have some cornmeal or flour available, I can make some biscuits,” Evelyn offered. She longed for some bread and greens; anything other than meat. The only time she’d eaten more than meat of various questionable varieties had been during the few days she’d spent with the Osbornes.
“You would make some biscuits or johnny cakes?” Laurent asked, his eyes widening.
Evelyn smiled slowly. His boudin must not be as tasty as he had proclaimed.
“Are there any edible tubers or vegetables to be found here?” she asked, and gestured with her chin into the nearby forest. “I’d be glad to prepare a stew. Alex and Mr. Yancey should be back soon, don’t you think?”
Laurent jumped to his feet. “We do not need to wait for their return. Tell me what you need, Madame Evie, to prepare a stew, and I shall provide it for you.” His eyes shimmered with hope and eagerness, and Evelyn couldn’t refuse him.
“I need a pot over the fire with water, and any greens you can find, and whatever meat you have for flavor. I could use a skillet for the biscuits, flour, some fat, and salt.”
“You shall have these things, Madame. Remain by the fire. Laurent Berard will provide you with what you need.”
Evelyn watched him rummage through several of Alex’s packs, producing all the items she needed. He disappeared into the surrounding forest for a while, and returned with some roots and tubers, and even a pouch filled with berries. With a wide smile on his face, he showed her his finds, then hung the iron kettle over the fire.
“Anything else you need, Madame? We will all enjoy your feast tonight.” He smacked his lips together, grinning broadly.
Evelyn reluctantly left her warm spot by the fire, and set to work cleaning and cutting the roots, and adding them to some leftover venison that sizzled at the bottom of the pot. A pleasant aroma soon filled the air, and she momentarily forgot about the cold.
Alex and Yancey rode into camp at just about the time when Evelyn deemed her stew to be ready to eat. A small deer lay across Alex’s thighs. He dropped the carcass to the ground, then dismounted his horse. Evelyn caught his unreadable stare before he turned his attention to his horse.
“Your wife has graciously offered to cook a fine meal tonight, Walker,” Laurent proclaimed loudly.
Alex didn’t respond. He finished unsaddling his mount, then hobbled the animal’s front legs together and turned it loose with the rest of the horses. He rummaged through one of his packs, and produced a heavy-looking white wool blanket with yellow and red stripes at the ends. Wordlessly, he strode up to her and wrapped it around her shoulders.
Before he had a chance to walk away, Evelyn grabbed his hand. She wasn’t about to simply let him walk away this time. “Thank you,” she said softly, a hesitant smile on her lips. He stared down at her, the hard lines of his mouth softening just slightly. Her pulse increased.
“Supper smells good,” he said. His warm hand unexpectedly covered hers, sending a flood of heat up her arm. She bit her lower lip to prevent a gasp.
“I hope it’s better than what Laurent would have us eat,” she commented lightly. Her gaze remained locked with his. A quiet yearning shone in the depths of his eyes, and she sensed he wanted to say something. Instead, he pulled his hand away, and the hint of a smile vanished. Evelyn swallowed to hide her disappointment. Why couldn’t he simply talk to her?
“Let me know when it’s ready. There’s something I need to do before it gets dark.” With those words he turned and walked away. Evelyn expelled a loud exasperated breath of air through her half-open mouth. Even with his sullen demeanor, she couldn’t stop the warm feelings and sensations that flooded her.
Laurent walked up beside her, and his gaze followed Evelyn’s as she observed Alex rummaging through one of his packs. Moments later, he strode off in the direction of the woods.
The Frenchman’s hand touched her shoulder, and Evelyn turned her head to look up at him.
“He needs time, Madame Evie,” Laurent said, offering an encouraging smile. His eyes shone with a warmth she hadn’t noticed before.
“Time for what?” Evelyn’s cheeks heated. Was she that transparent that Laurent could read her thoughts so easily?
“You have known Alex for a long time, no?” the Frenchman asked.
“He was my brother’s best friend. He spent a lot of time with our family,” Evelyn answered quietly.
“You cannot truly believe he murdered your maman and papa.”
Evelyn sucked in a deep breath. She shook her head, then peered to where Alex had disappeared into the woods. “No,” she whispered, finally voicing the thoughts in her mind over the last week out loud. “I don’t believe he killed my parents. Is that why he is so angry? Because he thinks I still hold him responsible?”
Laurent chuckled, and shook his own head. His hand wrapped around her upper arm, and he turned her to face him squarely. “Alex Walker is not angry with you, petite amie.” He offered an indulgent smile.
“Then why won’t he talk to me?” Evelyn leaned toward Laurent, hoping to understand.
“Do you know that he has faced the mighty grizzly bear with a bravery that is rare to see, and he has no fear when in battle against the Blackfeet. But,” Laurent hesitated and raised his index finger in front of him. “There is one thing that terrifies him above all else.”
Evelyn waited, and when Laurent remained silent, she asked the question that begged an answer. “And what is that?”
“You, mon cher.” His eyes widened expectantly, holding her gaze.
Evelyn’s forehead wrinkled. She took a step back and tilted her head, wondering if she’d understood correctly. She expelled a nervous laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Why would Alexander Walker be afraid of me?”
“He would rather face a hundred Blackfeet and ten grizzly bears put together than lay a finger on you.”
“Lay a finger on me? Mr. Berard, what are you talking about?”
“You are aware of his father, are you not?” Laurent clasped his hands behind his back. He glanced toward the fire, and leaned over the pot. He raised the lid and inhaled a long drawn-out breath, sighing contently.
“I know his father was a drunkard, and rumor has it he killed his wife. The whole town knew he beat her a lot. Even Alex had bruises on his face on many occasions.” Evelyn still didn’t understand where this conversation was leading.
Laurent reached for her hand, and held it between his two large, calloused ones. His chest heaved before he spoke. “Madame Evelyn, your husband is afraid that he will become his father.”
Evelyn blinked. She hadn’t seen Alex indulge in drink. She searched her memory, trying to recall Silas Walker in her mind. She’d seen him on very few occasions, and what she remembered of him was a loud and boisterous man who enjoyed provoking a fight. Alex was the exact opposite. Always quiet. Always reserved.
“Madame Evelyn,” Laurent said, squeezing her hand. Evelyn’s gaze dropped to where he still clasped her hand between his larger ones. He waited for her to look up at him again. “You can show your husband he is not the man he thinks he is. He has been my friend for four years, and has saved my life on many occasions. I wis
h for him to find the happiness that has eluded him. He can find that with you, mon cher.”
He patted her hand once more, then released her. Smiling broadly again, as if the subject was now closed, he stared at the kettle over the fire, and slapped his stomach. “It is time to eat. Now where is that good-for-nothing jeunot and that stubborn man you have the misfortune to call your husband?” He stepped around her, heading toward the woods.
Evelyn stared after him. Her mind swirled dizzily with the information Laurent had given her. She recalled Alex’s angry reaction the day she tried to attack him with the knife. Absently, she rubbed at her wrists. The marks he had left were long gone. She remembered his tense stance after Aimee had put a stop to his ever-tightening grip, and the pained look in his eyes afterward. She recalled his fierce embrace, which had quickly turned gentle yet remained strong when he kissed her, and again when he held her during her angry outburst the day they met up with Laurent. Alex may think he would hurt her, but in her heart it became as clear as the water flowing in the nearby creek that he could never do to her what his father had done to him and his mother.
With a new understanding of the quiet, brooding man who had become her husband by a strange twist of fate, Evelyn stirred the contents of her stew pot. Her young girl’s dreams of becoming Alex Walker’s wife had come true, and she would follow Laurent’s advice and make him see that he was not the man he envisioned in his misguided mind.
She spotted Yancey by the horses, and waved him to the fire. He politely accepted her offer, and sat to eat. Alex finally emerged from the woods, carrying several large poles and pine branches. Laurent followed close on his heels. Evelyn ladled stew onto tin plates that Laurent brought her, and added a couple of biscuits from the skillet.
The Frenchman joined Yancey at the fire, but Alex stayed behind, setting to work building, what Evelyn quickly realized, was a lean-to. Tying a large pole horizontally to two young trees that were spaced about ten feet apart, he added smaller poles to create a v-shaped shelter on one side, which he covered with pine branches. Only when he was finished did he come to the fire. He sat and silently accepted the plate of food she offered. She handed him several biscuits, which he eyed appreciatively.
“I’ll build a fire near the shelter. It’s going to be cold tonight,” he said, spooning food into his mouth without looking at anyone in particular. When no one replied, he glanced up, and his gaze met Evelyn’s.
“You can move some buffalo robes under there,” he grumbled, staring directly at her.
“You built that for me?” she asked, surprised even as her heart soared. She flashed him a wide smile, and Alex’s eyebrows scrunched together. Clearing his throat, he said, “Like I said, it’s gonna be cold tonight, and probably windy. It’ll be warmer for you there.”
Evelyn’s eyes darted to Laurent, who coughed into his coffee cup, then hastily stuffed a biscuit into his mouth. She shot another look at Alex, but his attention had returned to his food. With a determined intake of breath, Evelyn silently vowed that, starting in the morning, she would win Alexander Walker over just as he had again stolen her heart with his small gestures of kindness.
****
Evelyn shivered under her blankets, and tucked her legs up closer to her torso. A sudden blast of cold air hit her from behind, and in her half-awakened state, she groped for the covers. Just as quickly, a pleasant warmth replaced the frigid cold, and she inched closer to its source until she leaned against a solid wall. Vaguely, she wondered at the oddity, but her groggy mind didn’t question it further.
When a steely arm slipped around her middle, pulling her closer, she tensed instinctively, and her eyes opened to the blackness of night. She pushed against her assailant, and kicked her leg back. The strong arm tightened around her waist. Her sleepy mind conjured images of Oliver Sabin. Had the man found their camp? He’d come to claim her after all.
She struggled to awaken fully. ”Let go of me,” she said through gritted teeth. She thrashed her legs, kicking at him wherever she could, until a heavy thigh fell over her abdomen, holding her to the ground. The man straddled her, and pinned her beneath him. She pushed against his chest, momentary panic flooding her, but she was no match for his strength. His hands clamped around her arms, and he immobilized her further.
“I won’t hurt you, Evie,” someone whispered softly in her ear. “I’m only here to keep you warm. Don’t be afraid of me.”
Alex? Evelyn’s mind raced at his words. He’d come to share her blankets? Earlier she’d been ready to . . . do what? She wanted to prove to Alex that she was a woman. As her husband, he had every right to be in her bed, but she wasn’t ready for this. It was too unexpected.
“Evie, I’m not here to hurt you,” he said again, his voice louder this time.
“I told you I wouldn’t share your blankets.” She forced the lie from her lungs, trying to inhale a deep breath. “Or have you forgotten our agreement already?”
“Dammit, woman. I’m only trying to see to your comfort. Cease your struggles and I’ll leave. But I won’t release you until you calm down.” Alex’s breath caressed her cheek, and a delicious shudder passed through her. Unable to see him in the dark, she turned her head to avoid a repeat of the sensation for fear it might give away her body’s growing awareness of him. She raised her head slightly, intending to move it to the side. Instead, her mouth grazed against his lips.
“Evie.” Alex’s whisper was barely audible, just before his own mouth fully covered hers. Evelyn’s heart drummed wildly in her chest. Heat raced through her extremities to settle in the pit of her stomach. His kiss remained light and soft, and Evelyn craned her neck to intensify the connection.
Alex released her arm, and his hand ran up her shoulder, caressed her neck, and cupped the side of her face. A low moan escaped his throat, just before he abruptly broke the contact. He inhaled a deep breath, and rolled to the side, completely freeing Evelyn from underneath him. Cold air immediately seeped through her clothing, and she shivered.
“Hold me, Alex,” Evelyn whispered, and turned toward him, craving his warmth. A scalding need that had nothing to do with Alex’s body heat flowed through her veins.
Alex inhaled deeply. “Evie, I’m not here for the reasons you think,” he said, his voice strained. “I . . . come here, you’re shivering.” He pulled the blanket and buffalo robe that had fallen away during their struggle over her, and she pressed against his chest.
Evelyn lay quietly in his arms. She waited for something to happen, wondering what to say or do. Never before had a man shared her blankets, yet for some reason, lying in Alex’s embrace seemed as natural as breathing.
“Turn around and go to sleep, Evie,” Alex said firmly. He loosened his hold so she could comply. Evelyn didn’t move. Should she dare try and kiss him? She had told him a moment ago that she didn’t want to share his blankets. Nothing could be further from the truth all of a sudden. His kiss ignited a need that refused to be ignored.
Gritting her teeth, she finally complied with his request. What if he rejected her kiss if she tried? Turning to her other side, she pressed her back against his chest. Had she imagined a shudder pass through him when she relaxed against him? He slid one arm beneath her head, his warm breath against her neck sending a renewed shiver down her spine. His other arm tightened around her waist as if he meant to draw her inside himself. Nothing had ever made her feel safer or more protected than lying in Alex’s arms. For a moment she could imagine that he truly loved her, and wasn’t merely here to keep her warm.
“Sleep, Evie, We’ll travel early in the morning.” His lips brushed against her neck. Evelyn sighed softly and she forced her eyes shut. Lying quietly in Alex’s embrace, she smiled to herself. Her mind recalled the gentle way he’d kissed her a minute ago. He was wrong. If he thought he could be cruel like his father, Alex was dead wrong. Here in his arms, nothing would ever hurt her. Content in his embrace, she drifted off to sleep.
****
Horse
s whinnied, and birds chirped loudly. The sound of men’s voices reached her ears. Evelyn blinked and raised her head. Darkness had given way to a sunny morning. She quickly raised herself to a sitting position, and turned her head to peer behind her. Alex was gone. Had he even been here? Had he truly come to her bed in the middle of the night with the intent to shield her from the cold? She touched tentative fingers to her lips, wondering if she’d imagined it all in a dream.
Chapter 10
Alex squatted by the fire, poking at the outlying ashes with a stick. The gray swirls of his breath in the crisp early morning air mingled with the wisps of smoke rising skyward. Laurent silently handed him a tin cup filled with steaming coffee.
“Did you stay warm last night?” Laurent asked, lowering himself to the ground next to Alex with a loud grunt. He sipped from his own cup, and peered at Alex from beneath his lashes.
Alex held the hot cup between his hands, staring at the dark brew. He didn’t want to think about last night. He’d been more than warm. Last night had been heaven and hell rolled into one. The early morning cold was a welcome reprieve to the heat coursing through his body like a fever consuming him. He glanced past the fire to where Yancey stirred under his covers, then held the cup to his lips.
Teton Sunrise (Teton Romance Trilogy) Page 9
