Untamed Journey

by Eden Carson

  “You could use a second mother to work on your manners,” Ruth quipped, as she sidled out from between Jackson’s naked chest and the rocks at her back.

  “She thinks a lady should get a glimpse of a naked man beforehand, so she knows what she’s getting into, so to speak.”

  “And how might a lady accomplish that?” Ruth demanded. “Ask for volunteers at the church social?”

  He laughed. “Can’t say for sure what Sue had in mind. We never got around to discussing the details. But it can’t be that hard, since we’ve seemed to work out a method in your case. I’m going to finish my bath now. You’re welcome to stay and watch.” He turned away and dove into the deep pond, not waiting for her response.

  She might have blushed an even deeper shade of red if Jackson had turned and seen her still watching. But he didn’t look her way, just began to methodically soap his hair. It was thick and black and would probably curl at the ends if he let it grow a bit longer. Her palm itched to feel its smoothness and the warm skin underneath.

  Ruth was startled at her own thoughts. She’d never much paid attention to men in that way. She’d been kissed back home before the War. But that was by a boy she’d known all her life. It seemed like it happened to another girl.

  But the woman she was now was firmly planted in the present, mesmerized by the fall of water down Jackson’s muscled back, secretly wishing the pond weren’t quite so murky. When he started to turn around, she came to her senses and dashed off into the cover of the trees.

  Jackson couldn’t help wondering if she’d stop halfway to appease her curiosity. He sure hoped so. The water was damned cold. It’d be a shame to have tortured himself for no good reason.

  He listened closely as he took the bar of soap and finished scrubbing his hair. He wasn’t disappointed. There was no way the first-born son of the army’s best tracker could miss the fact that the birds had stopped singing just above the spot where he figured Ruth had hunkered down. Jackson gave her his back again, only this time left a bit more skin above the water line. There was no point in him pretending modesty if she was going to act like she hadn’t seen him.

  Chapter 37

  “Did you have any questions?” Jackson asked matter-of-factly as he walked up to their camp, waylaying Ruth who was tending the small fire he’d allowed them to have.

  “What?” she blushed furiously at her own secret thoughts, imagining what he’d think of her if she voiced them out loud. She refused to look at him as he walked up next to her. “We could use some more wood,” Ruth muttered, hoping to change the subject.

  Jackson ignored her and the plentiful pile of wood right next to them and continued his verbal seduction. “I asked if you had any questions – about me or what you saw earlier. You were curious enough to stay and look at my body. Don’t you want to know anything else?” he inquired with the utmost calm.

  Oh, yes, everything. The thought tumbled into Ruth’s head before she could force her concentration back to putting more wood on the fire. But curiosity was no match for her mother’s strict upbringing and she kept her mouth firmly closed and her hands busy filling the coffee pot to avoid further temptation.

  The movement didn’t escape Jackson’s notice. He usually made the coffee so her obvious attempt at distraction was all the encouragement he needed. “You’re safe with me, you know.” He reached for her chin, lifting it up to brush the softest of kisses across her startled gasp.

  “No one is here,” he reassured her. “No one will know what you ask me or what I answer back. So why not appease a little curiosity, Ruth?”

  She was tempted. So tempted to ask, and even more so to touch him back. Her palms tingled with the need to stroke Jackson’s bare skin. But she couldn’t forget her mama’s teachings or the fact that somewhere out there, she had a husband in the eyes of the law. If Jackson only knew it wasn’t just one biblical sin she’d be committing but two, seeing as she was technically a married woman.

  Jackson could sense the struggle within Ruth, so he retreated a few feet. He busied his hands putting his shirt back on, hoping the sight of him less naked might put her more at ease.

  “When I was a boy, I always wondered what all the fuss was about. I watched my older cousins commit more foolishness to get a girl just to spare a kiss and never understood all the fuss. Having watched the livestock breed for more years than I could count, I couldn’t understand the difference. I know you must have witnessed a few things yourself growing up, seeing as your daddy was a sometimes animal doctor.”

  Jackson lifted his brows, waiting expectantly for an answer.

  Ruth’s blush returned, whether from their conversation or from getting caught staring at Jackson’s hands as he took his sweet time buttoning his shirt, even she didn’t know. “Well, of course, I…’ She turned three shades brighter the minute she locked eyes with Jackson, understanding that he knew she’d never manage the words. “I mean, I wasn’t raised in a convent, now, was I?”

  “So are you saying that you’re not interested in knowing or that you already know?” He grinned in reply.

  She wanted to strangle the man for enjoying her discomfort so much. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

  “Since I have every intention of seducing you Ruth – whether before or after we marry being entirely up to you – I see it as my business.”

  If Jackson hadn’t been ready for it, she would have fallen face first into the fire, she was so surprised at his declaration.

  “Hold on, Ruth, don’t lose your nerve now. I wasn’t planning on your fall from grace this very afternoon.” Jackson steadied her as she tried to push away more in reflex than real outrage. He sat down on a large, flat rock near the fire, pulling her down with him.

  He had Ruth so off balance, both mentally and physically, she couldn’t think to resist when he settled her between his legs, her back to his chest.

  “Now, Miss Ruth, if I were you, I’d imagine having the same thoughts and questions as I had, but from the female perspective. Not sure I can manage that one just right, but I’ll try. You be sure and steer me in the right direction, if once I get started, I’m not fully satisfying your curiosity. I don’t want you to be surprised or nervous on our wedding night. I fully intend for us both to enjoy ourselves.”

  She half turned in his lap to face him. “Why you arrogant –!” She sputtered over the words. “I never agreed to marry you. You never even asked.”

  “Would you like me to?” He held her gaze, unflinching. “If it will make you less embarrassed to have this conversation after I’ve proposed, we can take care of that now.”

  He waited in silence for Ruth to reply, apparently dead serious.

  But she was already married. She barely stopped herself from blurting the thought out loud. Just because she didn’t feel married and wasn’t convinced it should count, didn’t mean Jackson would understand. And Ruth didn’t think her opinion would hold much sway with the law, either. She had to stop this temptation now. There was no future in it, for either of them. God help her, if Jackson were serious about a proposal, what would he think of her for leading him on, if he ever found out the truth? Would she trust a man she’d barely known for a week who suddenly blurted out how he was married, but it didn’t really count? Her friends would laugh at her naiveté if she did, so why should Jackson react any differently?

  Ruth got up to leave, not saying a word. She refused to lie to the man who had saved her life.

  Jackson didn’t understand the wealth of emotions passing through Ruth’s eyes, but they were no longer the half-curious, half-embarrassed ones he’d meant to invoke. When she stood to leave, he got to his feet and gently clasped her hand. “Ruth, I meant no offense. I’m a plainspoken man because I’ve learned that words can cause pain and suffering, even unspoken ones. I’m too old to play courting games, and too weary of lies to waste your time or your heart with false promises. I meant what I said about a proposal.”

  At her panicked look
, he let go of her hand and took a step back, thinking he was making her nervous. “I’m not trying to rush or pressure you into something you don’t want,” he continued. “But I’ve seen you watching me. I know you’re attracted. You’re strong like me and I hope you know I’d never abandon you or our children. No matter how hard this life got. I saw how you stayed and fought for those passengers on the train. They were near strangers, and yet you didn’t cower and hide like most women and most men for that matter. You fought back. I’d fight back for you, Ruth – always.”

  Jackson stepped close once more and took her hands into his much larger ones. He went slowly, giving her every chance to protest. When he got none, he stroked his calloused thumb across her parted lips. He barely managed to stop himself from taking more before thinking better of it. He let his hand drop and walked off, leaving Ruth to her thoughts.

  And with that parting touch, every one of her secret thoughts circled back to all those unanswered questions she had.

  Chapter 38

  “Can I keep you company, Miss Ruth?”

  She didn’t so much as start in surprise at the sound of Jackson’s voice behind her. She wondered at that – how a feeling of peace and security could come to her so quickly, in such a remote place, with a virtual stranger. When in her own hometown, she could barely remember a time when she’d run through the woods without scouting for cover. Or slept a full night in her childhood home without bolting out of bed in fright at the slightest noise. But here in North Creek, Colorado, a man twice her size with three times her strength could walk up on her blind side without triggering one survival instinct.

  Ruth looked up the length of Jackson’s muscled thighs, his sweat-soaked work shirt, and into those dangerous eyes. And wondered when exactly she’d taken leave of her senses. If anyone should be setting off warnings, he should. The problem was that the warnings weren’t being felt along the back of her neck, but somewhere else entirely.

  Jackson took her silence for assent and sat down. He promptly began removing his boots.

  Ruth didn’t snap out of her reverie until he began work on the buttons of his shirt.

  “Mr. Jackson, are you aware of the fact that in the short time I’ve known you, you are without exception constantly removing some article of clothing in my presence.”

  He laughed at her prudish observation. “And are you aware, Miss Jameson, that in the considerable time I’ve known you – considerable by Western standards of course – you’ve never failed to blush to the roots of your beautiful hair when I remove those same articles of clothing? It’s a lure I just can’t refuse.”

  Jackson was down to socks and pants by the end of his speech and the blush on Ruth’s traitorous skin was three shades darker than spring petunias.

  When he reached for his belt buckle, she turned full circle and gave him her back. “You’re impossible.”

  “Nothing’s impossible, Miss Ruth. Particularly when you learn to shed yourself of society’s less useful restrictions.”

  Jackson couldn’t help himself, because he could swear her blush showed from the back just as brightly. He took pity on her and pulled out his clean shirt. “You can look now. I’m dressed again.”

  She decided she could risk turning all the way around, seeing as it was Jackson. “That’s better,” she replied, upon seeing him fully clothed, minus a large pair of bare feet. “I’ve broken enough societal taboos since I came west, thank you very much.”

  “Which ones?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

  If only you knew, she thought to herself glumly. But she was not going to let thoughts of Jasper Smith ruin such a lovely day. So she took the safe route. “I traveled unescorted. I’ve seen a man who is not my husband half-naked – several times.”

  Jackson grinned at her pathetic list of rebellion. By Western standards she was just a chick barely hatched. “First off, the unescorted part was not your doing. If your sorry excuse for a fiancé had half the regard for decent behavior that you do, he would have escorted you himself, every step of the way. As for the second, just looking hardly counts. And again, if your fiancé had escorted you, you’d never have had the opportunity to see me at all, much less naked.”

  “Half-naked,” Ruth absently corrected him.

  “Back in Huntsville, I doubt the old guard of maidenly virtue would count the distinction. So you might as well go for a full-fledged viewing, since you’re being docked for it anyway,” he argued half-seriously.

  Ruth could just feel a blush returning. And damn if Jackson didn’t have a point. She couldn’t help wondering if the rest of him looked as strong and sleek as his shirtless chest. “If you remove one more stitch of clothing, I’m leaving this minute.”

  Her heart couldn’t take the strain.

  “You’re safe with me, Miss Ruth. I’ve even put my hat back on,” he claimed with full-fledged laughter in his voice.

  True to his word, he’d stretched out on the soft grass not two feet from her, with his well-worn black hat tipped down over his eyes.

  Ruth relaxed again, leaning across her raised knees, and enjoyed the suddenly mild autumn weather.

  “Is the weather always like this?” She asked lazily, enjoying the first moment in weeks she felt completely at ease.

  “Always isn’t a word you can use with the weather in Colorado Territory,” Jackson explained. “It’s always volatile, beautiful even. But men have lost an entire year’s crop thinking they could predict the weather for more than a few days running.”

  “How do you farm then?” she asked, genuinely perplexed. “I know there’s mining and cattle here, but there must be some agriculture.” Ruth was raised in a state riddled with farms and had a hard time picturing a land so vast and empty that she had yet to see a kitchen garden, much less the fully working farms she was used to.

  “Some do farm here, but mostly for their own use and for trade with neighbors,” Jackson replied. “Montgomery had vegetables and fruit earlier this year for sale at his trading post. But in this part of the territory, at altitude, the kind of crops you’re used to back east won’t grow. You have to plant local varieties. But lucky for us, the army hasn’t figured this out yet.”

  Ruth raised her eyebrows in question. “What do you mean?”

  “The army actually ships in most of the grain used to feed their horses,” he explained. “It’s very expensive. Sue is trying to fill that void. She overheard one of the local captains on a visit several years back, cursing the price of grain for the horses. And she had an idea to find something local that she could grow reliably and in bulk for the horses to eat.”

  “But what do you feed your horses now?” Ruth asked.

  “My place is located on the edge of a meadow where several varieties of seasonal grasses grow. Aside from winter, we have natural feed the rest of the year. But once I started raising extra mounts to sell to the army, I found myself buying grain to supplement in dry years. Until Sue’s experimenting paid off.”

  At Ruth’s obvious interest, Jackson continued. “After the Captain left that year, Sue came to me with an idea. She wanted to try cross pollinating some of the local grasses with more common grains, with the goal of something new that would grow reliably here at altitude and survive our cold temperatures. She partnered up with a local Arapaho woman who sells us medicinal plants. Between her knowledge of the native plants and Sue’s pure determination, they finally succeeded after three years of trying. The crop they developed can be dried after harvest and stored in grain form for the entire winter. Sue’s getting ready to ship some to Colonel Roe over at Fort Lyon. First shipment is free. And if his mounts like it as much as ours seem to, she’s going to undercut the Army’s main supplier by thirty percent and still turn a tidy profit.”

  “It’s Sue doing business with the Army? Not you?” Even having seen many women take to commerce to feed themselves during the War, Ruth was shocked. Back in Huntsville, those same women returned to housekeeping and child rearing as soon
as their men came home. And if they didn’t, their business dried up wherever a war veteran was nearby to supply the same product.

  “It’s all Sue,” Jackson admitted. “Our deal was just that I supply her some of my land to supplement her own homestead and the protection that goes with it. In exchange, I get free grain for my breeding stock. Some of the local men will help her with transportation, but she’ll drive a hard bargain with them, that’s for sure. Sue never spends two pennies where one will do.”

  “You’re an unusual man, to admire a woman like her,” Ruth observed. “Most seem downright offended by females in business.”

  He shrugged. “If a man has confidence in himself and can take pride in his own work, he won’t be threatened by the success of his neighbors, male or female. And in my case, having strong women nearby only helps me. It attracts other women, which in turn gets me the best pick of men to work my horses and cattle. I don’t much care what a man’s opinion of a woman’s duty on this earth is. But a man that would outright take offense at a lady just trying to feed her kids is trouble waiting to happen. A man like that lacks confidence and will cause problems wherever he goes.”

  She nodded in understanding. “My father used to say the same. In the letters he wrote from the War. He always said the South’s biggest downfall was cocky young men trying to prove something. But brashness wouldn’t fill your belly or replace your boots after the supplies ran out.”

  “Sounds like your father was a wise man,” Jackson replied.

  “My Aunt Kate always insisted he was a foolish one,” Ruth said. “That he actually believed he was fighting for a man’s right to determine his own destiny, when in reality we were all just being manipulated by the wealthy in the North. She insisted they were using the War to steal rich plantation land. You were in the Army. What do you think?”