His heart lurched at the thought of never seeing Ginger again after tonight. Even though he knew it was for the best if he left and allowed her to marry one of her own kind, he also knew he would never find another woman like her, even if he searched for the remainder of his life.
He remembered she had not been at the finish line, nor had he seen her on the ride back from the harbor. She had not been among the flurry of riders that befell the stables as people returned their soggy mounts to the stable boys and made their way into the estate house to dry themselves and to get a hot cup of tea or buttered rum. Feeling a sudden sense of urgency, he left the stables and started across the lawn to the Currans’ house in hopes of finding Basil.
He spied a stable boy in the yard gathering up the reins of a riderless horse. Ginger’s horse!
He grabbed the boy’s arm. “Where did this horse come from?”
“I don’t know, sir. I found him out here just now, with no rider.”
Joseph dropped the boy’s arm and hurried to the house with a feeling of foreboding. He followed the sound of male voices into the library. Basil was there with several of the other men. They had changed into dry, casual clothing, and were smoking fat cigars, drinking brandy, and reliving the race from their various perspectives. Joseph’s muddy boots left wet stains on the floorboards, but he didn’t notice, as his troubled mind accelerated from worried to frantic. He waved off the shouts of congratulations from the men and rushed to Basil’s side.
He spoke quietly, for only Basil to hear. “Do you know where Ginger is? No one has seen her, and her horse just came back to the stables without her.”
“Excuse us, gentlemen,” said Basil, and he and Joseph left the library.
They dashed to the parlor where the ladies had gathered after changing their clothing and drying their hair. Basil’s eyes scanned the room, until he located his sister’s best friend.
“Elizabeth, you were with Ginger when the race began. Do you have any idea where she is now?”
Elizabeth blushed, then said, “She parted from Cedric and me a few minutes after we left the yard. She said she wanted to get to the finish line before Joseph did, not after, and we were moving much too slowly for her. I haven’t seen her since we got back. She hasn’t been in the room, either, to change clothes.”
Basil then explained to Mrs. Curran that his sister hadn’t returned from the race and asked her to organize a detailed search of the house. Staff and guests searched every room and outbuilding for Ginger. But their search came up empty.
“We’ll have to search the race route, then,” Basil insisted. “There are twelve of us men, so let’s split up and each take a part of the course to look for her. Joseph, you’re the most accomplished tracker among us, why don’t you try to follow her trail?”
William snorted at this suggestion. “There is no trail, Basil. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s been raining since the middle of the race, and all signs of a trail have been washed away. Not that anyone could distinguish one set of hoof prints from another, anyway.”
“I can,” Joseph replied, as he hurried from the room and ran to saddle Midnight for yet another ride.
Chapter Twenty
Joseph slowly picked his way through the forest, following Ginger’s tracks, which were rapidly fading under the relentless rain. Her horse’s hoof prints led into the woods, and he was certain he would find her there. But what had happened? She was a superb rider, and quite comfortable with horses. His sense of dread heightened with each passing minute, but he still moved slowly, all of his senses on high alert.
He plucked a small piece of cloth from a branch near the path and knew instantly it was from her riding outfit. The scent of lilacs still clung to the scrap of fabric. He inhaled the smell as he closed his eyes, relying on his senses, feeling her close to him. He tucked the scrap of cloth into his shirt, and bent over his horse to follow the trail. A few minutes later, he found what he was looking for. A bit of white against the dark needles of the forest floor.
Joseph rapidly dismounted. Ginger was trapped underneath a large branch, which must have fallen suddenly as she rode under it. Her white blouse was like a beacon, allowing him to see her body in the forest’s gloomy shadows. Joseph’s years of tracking game in the woods to provide food for his family worked to his advantage now. A person less skilled in reading the forest would have ridden right past her, unaware there was anyone trapped underneath the huge pine.
“Ginger,” he yelled at the top of his lungs, as the rain continued to pound the earth. “Ginger, are you hurt?”
No sound came from the crumpled form under the branch. She was either unconscious — or dead.
Joseph assessed the situation and plotted the best course of action to remove the branch, which must have weighed hundreds of pounds. Fortunately, the bulk of it had missed Ginger, but it was too heavy for him to pluck off her. With the rain still pounding relentlessly, he unfurled his rope from the saddle. He quickly tied one end around the branch and the other end around the saddle horn. Speaking quietly to Midnight, he slowly began backing up the horse, until the branch was pulled out of the way. Joseph let the line go slack as he dismounted and rushed toward Ginger again, using all his strength to tear the remaining branches away.
His hands slid over her body, checking for broken bones. He took a deep breath when he could find no outward signs of injury, although she was burning up with fever. His heartbeat slowly returned to normal. She was unconscious, but he could detect no skeletal damage. He untied his rope, and then carefully picked Ginger up off the soggy ground. He cradled her in one arm as he swung himself back into his saddle and rewound the rope.
While riding over the course route yesterday, he had spied a small hunter’s cabin not far from their location. It would not be much, but it could provide shelter until the rain stopped, so he headed Midnight in the direction of the cabin. He knew Ginger should be tended to by a doctor, but he worried more about the amount of time she’d already been exposed to the elements. It seemed imperative to get her to immediate shelter.
Several minutes later, he kicked open the door of the tiny cabin and laid Ginger on a bunk in the small, dusty room. There was a stash of dry wood in the cabin, so he started a fire to remove the chill from the room. He found several blankets and wrapped a couple of them tightly around Ginger, while he rubbed her arms and legs to promote blood circulation. He brushed her hair away from her face with gentle movements and dried it with another blanket. He ran the cloth over her face, drying it, too.
As his large hands moved over her, he sighed. She was safe now. He could breathe again. He cupped her face in one hand, leaned down, and allowed himself the small luxury of kissing the lips that had haunted him for weeks. Chastising himself for his weakness, he straightened back up again. There was much to do. She was still in danger from exposure to the elements. He must get her warmed up.
He added more wood to the fire. He had to take care of his horse, too, which he’d left standing in the rain. He picked up another blanket and went outside again. He led Midnight onto the small covered porch where the horse could at least get some shelter from the storm, and tied him there. He removed the saddle and rubbed Midnight down with the blanket.
“Good job, Midnight. We found her. Migwetch, my friend.” He pulled an apple from his saddlebag and fed it to the horse.
When he went back into the cabin, Ginger was still unconscious. She was shivering violently, and he knew he had to get her out of her wet clothing if she was to get warm. He tugged on her muddy riding boots and pulled them and her stockings off, then dried her feet. In an attempt to protect her modesty, he undressed her while she lay under the blankets. Her tailored, close-fitting jacket was the first to go. He held her in a sitting position while he worked her arms out of one tight sleeve, then the other.
Throwing the sodden jacket to the floor, he pulled her white blouse out of her riding skirt. As he unbuttoned the blouse, his hand moved over the swell of her breast
s, and he groaned as he steeled his mind to accomplish his task. Her damp blouse finally was unbuttoned and he again pulled one arm at a time out of the garment before he dropped it to the floor.
His hand returned to her waist as he unhooked the skirt. His callused hands caressed the smooth curve of her hips as he pulled the full skirt down and off her legs. He lingered over his task for a moment longer than he needed to, enjoying the feel of her body in his hands. Like a man coming out of a dream, he shook himself from his trance and divested her of the remainder of her outer clothing with relative ease.
It was the undergarments that caused a problem. He was not accustomed to the fancy under things these Easterners wore, and he had no idea how to unclasp them, especially without looking at them. Taking a deep breath, he removed the covers from Ginger — and what he observed made his mouth water.
She was quite simply magnificent. Creamy skin with a sprinkling of tiny freckles dotted the landscape of her upper body. The corset she was wearing pushed her bosom up, enhancing her cleavage. His eyes raked over her curves for a moment, and the image was burned into his mind forever. He turned her over gently and undid the binding, releasing the wet undergarment. As her breasts tumbled free of their constraints, Joseph’s heart leaped. He yearned to cup one in his hand, but knew any dalliance was dangerous in more ways than one. He still needed to strip off her bloomers, and whatever else was on her bottom half of her body and warm her, or she might catch a dreadful cold — or worse. With a blanket he dried the top half of her body.
He finally finished removing all her garments and wrapped her naked form back into the blankets. He laid each article of her clothing near the fire, which was now roaring. The small room was beginning to heat up — as were Joseph’s thoughts. He ran his hand lightly over Ginger’s beautiful hair just as she shivered again, and moaned softly. Cursing himself as some kind of fool, he removed his wet deerskin shirt and leggings, draped them over the hearth, and lay down beside her. As he took her into his arms in an attempt to warm her more quickly with his body heat, he whispered words of endearment into her hair, praying to his mother’s gods as well as to his father’s God she would wake up soon.
The feel of her skin against his was almost his undoing. Accustomed to always keeping his emotions hidden, he now let them surface as he held his beloved for the first time. As his senses reveled in delight, he was surprised to realize, although she was much smaller than him, they fit together beautifully. He drew her head under his chin as he pulled her closer, wrapped his arms around hers, and threw one leg over her hips. He ran his rough hands up and down her arms, hoping to get her blood flowing to her extremities faster. While he was relishing the sensation of lying next to the one woman he loved more than life itself, he knew if he did not get out from under the covers soon, he would never be able to.
Chapter Twenty-One
Joseph had managed, with his body heat, to get Ginger to stop shaking during the night. But being so close to her, feeling her soft breasts against his naked chest, and luxuriating in the rise and fall of her body as she took each breath was torment for him. For his own safety, as soon as he got her warmed, he left the bed and dressed, but stayed by her side, indulging himself by watching every flicker of her eyelids and listening to every small sigh from her lovely mouth. A mouth he wanted to possess again and again.
Since the day they first met, he felt he could only sneak quick glances at her. Basil had warned him not to touch her, and he was trying with all his might not to betray his best friend. But now, after a long night of watching her and worrying about her, he realized this small woman had wound herself around his heart.
Slowly, Ginger awoke. Joseph watched her eyes moving under her lids as she struggled to wake up. Breathing a sigh of relief, he gazed at her as she blinked and looked around the strange room, lit only by the glow of a small fire. She attempted to sit upright, but fell back again. She grabbed her head, as if to slow its spinning.
Joseph sat beside her. “It is all right, little one. You are safe now.”
“Where am I? What happened?” Ginger tried to focus on Joseph’s dark eyes as the dizziness passed.
“I found you in the woods, where a tree branch had fallen on you. Your horse came back to the stables by himself, so we sent out parties of men looking for you. I found you and brought you here to get out of the rain. We are in a hunter’s cabin in the middle of the forest.”
Ginger jumped as Joseph laid his large hand on her forehead. “Your fever has gone down. This is a good sign. How does the rest of your body feel? I checked for broken bones and could not find any.”
Ginger slid her hands under the covers and ran them up and down her body, realizing for the first time she was naked. Her eyes widened and she gasped.
“Did you remove my clothes?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “They were soaking wet, and I had to get you warmed up.”
Ginger’s blush rose from her toes to her cheeks, which became inflamed with color. She stared up at him again and gasped. “You threatened me on our fateful day in the livery, saying you would like to strip me of my bloomers and have your way with me. Did you ravage me?” She squeaked out the question.
“You were unconscious, and ill. I would not take advantage of you under such circumstances.”
“Damn,” she whispered. She pummeled her hands on the covers. Then she smiled up at him.
“But I’m awake and well now.” She let the covers slip from her shoulders as she tried once again to sit up.
He pulled the covers up over her. “Awake, but still ill. We will head back to the house at first light.”
“Good. I’m still so tired.” She lowered herself back to the bunk.
“You must not sleep again. You were knocked out, and now you must stay awake for a few hours, until we can return to the house.”
Ginger gave Joseph what she hoped was a coquettish smile. “Then it will be up to you to keep me awake somehow. And if you refuse to seduce me, and destroy my reputation so I’ll be forced to marry you, I guess we’ll be reduced to having conversation. Tell me about the race. Did Midnight win? I’m so disappointed I missed it.”
“Yes, Midnight came in first. William’s horse stepped into a woodchuck hole during the last section of the course, and broke his leg. William had to put him down.”
Ginger gasped. “Oh, the poor horse. William must be so upset.”
“You might say so. He is lodging a protest with the authorities about the outcome.”
“Why? Isn’t it enough his horse had to be put down? What a waste of good horseflesh.”
“He is accusing me of digging the holes.”
Ginger snorted. “What a ridiculous notion. And what a ridiculous man. Well, I’m glad you won fair and square, and anything William says or does will only show what a sore loser he is.” She sat up straighter in the bed and pulled the blankets to her shoulders.
“I don’t want to talk about William, though. I want to talk about you. Tell me about your life in St. Louis. All I know about you is that you and your family raise horses. Where do you find them? Do you race those you don’t sell, or breed a line of champions? I know so little of your life there.”
He shrugged. “It is not such an exciting life. There are no formal balls or affairs, like here. Most of the work we do is hard and dirty. We chase wild horses, mostly, catch and break them, and then sell them to the settlers who are traveling west.”
Ginger drew her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around them. “It sounds exciting to me! What kind of profit margin do you have on each horse you sell?”
As he stared at her, she shrugged her shoulders and continued, “I am good with numbers. And I’m curious about your business, and would like to explore ways to make it more profitable. It’s what I do. Didn’t Basil tell you I’ve been working with Father and Halwyn at the bank for some time now?”
“He did tell me. And my reply was to say women belonged in the home, not in a bank.”
/> Ginger pounded her hands on the bed, and her green eyes sparkled. “This is exactly the kind of backwards thinking Amelia Bloomer and I are trying to change. Would you rather I was home, barefoot and pregnant?”
Her eyes blazed at him. His eyes blazed back, not in anger, but in lust.
His quiet reply spoke volumes between them. “I would let you wear moccasins.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Without speaking, she opened the covers and stretched out her arms to him. He groaned as he drank in the sight of her, like a man dying of thirst. He closed the gap between them and lost himself in her warm embrace. His hands slid over her breasts as he finally took one of them in his hand and lowered his mouth to kiss its tip.
Joseph was drowning in a sea of delicious torment. He wanted to touch every part of her body as fast as he could, yet he wanted to take his time with her and explore every inch of her luscious body. He had an urgent need to press his finger in the dimples he had spotted on her derriere when he took off her bloomers. He wanted to run his thumb along her instep and the back of her knee, just to see her response to her touch. He cupped her upturned face in the palm of his hand and blew a light breath up her nostrils, much like he did with his horses to gain their trust. He captured her mouth in a long kiss, his tongue flicking against her lips until she opened her mouth to him. His tongue greedily entered, and then withdrew, only to enter again, setting up a ritualistic rhythm. He smiled in satisfaction as she gave a small moan of delight.
He wanted to do the same with the rest of her body, and touch her in a way no man had done. To be the one to bring her to her first orgasm and to watch her eyes fog over in ecstasy. He wanted to be the first, and the only man to teach her the ways of sexual fulfillment. But for now, he slowed the pace of his heart, and his thoughts, and enjoyed the leisurely exploration of the woman who had so long been denied to him.
Becky Lower Page 11
