He considered cutting the lesson short and returning to camp, but he’d promised to teach her. Showing her how to load the rifle and allowing her to take only one shot wasn’t enough to satisfy his obligation.
Besides, there would come a time when she might have need of the knowledge. In a few short months, he wouldn’t be around to look out for her anymore. True, she had family waiting for her in Oregon Country, complete with a fancy life in a grand house. But the future was uncertain and things didn’t always work out the way a person hoped or planned. He knew from painful personal experience that the unexpected happened all too often. And he didn’t want Mattie to be without resources, as his mother had been years ago.
Maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to move on when they reached the end of the trail. Of course he had no intention of staying married to her permanently. But perhaps he could stick around until he was sure she was safely settled.
She’d probably see that as him overstepping, however, the same as she’d viewed his previous attempts to help her. Better that he carry through with his original plan.
Mattie wouldn’t need him once they arrived at their destination. She didn’t need him now except to meet Miles’s terms. She had proved she was capable of overcoming most any circumstances. And he had little doubt she’d do the same in the future.
She wrinkled her nose at his compliment. “From this distance, it would have been hard to miss. It’s a fairly big target.”
“So it is. Reload and fire again. Only this time, pick a specific bush to aim for.” He made sure to stay a few paces back from her and didn’t move close to correct her positioning. Rather than touch her again, he simply told her what changes were needed.
She followed his directions and squeezed off another shot, which hit a branch on the center bush, sending a spray of small leaves to the ground. And she only staggered backward a step before catching her balance.
“Was that the one you were aiming at?”
“Yes.” She didn’t look at him as she reloaded the rifle.
Was she being deliberately evasive? “Would you tell me if it wasn’t?” he wondered aloud.
Her eyes came up to meet his. “Yes. But if you doubt it, you can pick the next target.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “The base of that second bush.”
She turned back toward her makeshift targets. “The second one from the left or the right?”
“Left.”
She took her time aiming, then pulled the trigger.
A clod of dirt flew into the air, indicating where the lead had landed, directly in front of the bush he’d specified.
Though impressed, he didn’t let on. “That was a little low. Try again.”
Her subsequent shot was better. And she followed it with several more that were right on the mark. She seemed to have a natural aptitude.
Next, he tested her skills on a small clump of grass a bit farther out.
Her aim was a little to the right, but she hit it on her second attempt.
Though she didn’t voice any complaints, after firing the rifle a dozen times, she must be feeling the effects. “How’s your shoulder holding up?”
“I doubt I’ll ever get used to the kick,” she admitted. “But it’s nothing like the first time.”
“We should probably be heading back anyway.” They were losing the light as the sun sank behind the mountains toward the west.
“Should I reload the rifle first?”
“That’s up to you. Most men keep their weapons ready, in case they need it in a hurry. But bouncing around in a covered wagon can sometimes cause the gun to go off accidentally. Weigh the necessity of being able to shoot quickly against the potential dangers. Are you comfortable having a loaded rifle in your wagon when Adela’s nearby?”
“No. I guess I’ll leave it empty for now.”
As they walked back to their campsite, she didn’t suggest a second practice session at a later date. But neither did he. Her reasons were a mystery. And his own? Well, he didn’t want to examine them.
Nearing the circle of wagons, they met Elias heading out to guard duty. “How did it go?” he asked.
“Fine.” Mattie offered nothing more as she passed him and continued on her way.
Elias’s eyes followed her for a moment before he turned back to Josiah. “What’s the matter? She seemed a little out of sorts.”
“Nothing’s the matter.” At least not with her. But his answer came out sounding curt, which he hadn’t intended.
Of course his brother picked up on the tone. “Apparently, Mattie’s not the only one who’s out of sorts. She didn’t almost shoot you, did she?”
“No. With a little more instruction, she’ll be a decent shot, actually.” But he didn’t want to talk about it.
Mattie had affected him in ways he hadn’t expected. She shouldn’t be able to touch his emotions when his heart was encased in ice. Yet she had somehow found a crack in a wall he’d believed was impenetrable.
He had to keep her from reaching further inside. She would never love him, didn’t want to be married to him. And he’d never again open himself up to the hurt of having his affection rejected. Never again allow himself to feel something for a woman who found him wanting.
Perhaps it would be wise to stay away from Mattie for a time, until he could seal off the cracks in his defenses. But changing his behavior would be admitting that she posed a serious hazard to his heart. She didn’t.
He blocked out the disquieting voice in the back of his mind that whispered otherwise.
Chapter Thirteen
Josiah watched Mattie walking in his direction, backlit by the setting sun. Her gaze focused downward, she picked her way across the uneven ground.
Several nights had passed since they’d been alone together. And while he hadn’t deliberately avoided her, when a legitimate excuse presented itself—in the form of a wound on one of horses—he didn’t hesitate to seize it.
He’d asked Elias to relay a message to the women that they shouldn’t wait supper on him. One evening free from the tension of sitting across a campfire from Mattie had seemed a welcome respite. Now here she was, disturbing his solitude. He would have preferred that she leave him in peace.
She carried a plate of food, and his stomach growled as he caught a whiff of the tantalizing aroma of roasted meat and vegetables. She was behaving almost like a real wife, seeing to her man’s needs. That should bother him, as it wouldn’t be wise for either of them to become too comfortable with this arrangement. But he couldn’t deny he felt a surprising spurt of pleasure at her actions.
“Rebecca asked me to bring you some supper,” she explained.
His momentary joy was snuffed out by her words, which was just as well. He took the plate from her. “Tell her ‘thank you’ for me.”
“I will.”
He expected her to quickly return the way she’d come, her errand complete.
Instead, she moved toward his horse. “Elias told us that you were concerned about a scrape on Goldie’s leg,” she said, referring to the palomino mare. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. But I want to keep an eye on her tonight and watch for any signs of infection.” He forked a bite of food into his mouth, savoring the rich flavors.
Mattie bent down to inspect the injury for herself. “I don’t feel any heat around the area.”
He chewed and swallowed before answering. “Elias gave me some salve to put on it and that seems to be helping.”
“Good.” She straightened and gave the mare’s neck a pat, then walked toward his other horses, which were staked slightly apart from Goldie.
The wind caught her skirts, swirling the hem around her ankles. She moved with an innate grace that drew his eyes against his will. What was it about her that c
aptured his attention and refused to let go? Sure, she was a beautiful woman with delicate features and striking eyes. But she was hardly the only attractive female he’d ever encountered.
Yet, she alone had the ability to so distract him that everything else around him seemed to disappear into insignificance. Not even Georgiana had inspired such a strong reaction.
Mattie’s effect on him was unsettling and unwanted. He had little control over it, however.
Which made it dangerous to spend too much time in her company. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to your own meal?” he questioned.
She didn’t glance at him as she replied, “I already ate.” Greeting each of his horses in turn, she gave them all a bit of attention.
“Well, I’m sure you have other things to do, so don’t let me keep you.”
“Oh, you’re not keeping me from anything. Rebecca and Adela were seeing to the cleanup when I left, but they’ll be done by now. Besides, Rebecca asked that I wait and bring back the plate once you’ve finished your meal.”
He shoveled several forkfuls of food into his mouth in rapid succession.
Glancing over the back of one horse, Mattie caught his actions. “That wasn’t meant to be a hint. Please, take your time. There’s no hurry.”
He paused and considered her words. The quicker he finished, the quicker she would depart. But it didn’t sit well with his digestion when he wolfed down food. Better to be a little uncomfortable for the short time until Mattie left than to suffer with an aching belly for the rest of the night.
As he carried on eating—but at a slower pace this time—his eyes continued to track her movements. Goldie butted her head against his shoulder, knocking him off balance, and he almost dropped his supper on the ground.
Mattie stifled a laugh behind her hand. “I guess she doesn’t like being ignored.”
He turned and gave the mare a stern look. She lowered her head, as if she’d understood the silent rebuke.
“It’s amazing the way you can communicate with her,” Mattie marveled. She returned to Goldie’s side to stroke her pale coat—a move which also brought her nearer to Josiah again. “How did you get to be so good with horses?”
“My mother used to say that I inherited blue eyes and horse sense from Zechariah Barlow.” He speared a chunk of potato and lifted it to his mouth.
Mattie’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “Zechariah Barlow?”
Why had he mentioned his birth father, Zechariah? Josiah never talked about his childhood with anyone. Not even Elias. It served no purpose and only dredged up painful memories. Most days, he’d rather forget that time in his life. He had spent years pushing it so deep down inside that it wouldn’t impinge on his conscious mind.
But there might be some benefit in telling Mattie about his family history. Then maybe she would understand why he wasn’t husband material. He’d thought she had figured it out already, based on her reaction to his proposal, but in the time since then she’d seemed more than willing to go along with Rebecca’s obvious matchmaking attempts.
He guessed Mattie was about to discover a reason to begin circumventing the other woman, however. Once she learned the sordid details of his background she wouldn’t want to spend any more time in his company than was absolutely necessary.
Which was fine by him. It was exactly what he wanted, in fact.
He gulped down the bite of food before responding. “Zechariah Barlow was my father.”
“But your last name is Dawson—” She abruptly cut herself off, doubtlessly having arrived at the logical conclusion.
“My mother wasn’t married to my father,” he confirmed.
Her cheeks reddened. “Forgive me for bringing it up.” Her hand had stalled against the mare’s neck, but now she resumed stroking the short hairs.
“You’re hardly the first person to do so. My father wasn’t one to settle down, and I’m like him in a lot of ways.” He might as well warn Mattie off completely while he was at it, though he suspected his illegitimacy would be enough. “He worked as a wrangler capturing wild mustangs. Horses were the only thing he knew. He had no real home—not for years. He was just passing through when he met my mother, who was married to Elias’s father at the time. When her husband found out about her affair shortly after I was born, he couldn’t forgive her for shaming him in front of friends and neighbors, and he abandoned her.”
He glanced up, expecting to find disgust on Mattie’s face, but saw only sympathy and compassion.
“What happened to you and Elias and your mother after that?”
“Elias and I didn’t grow up together—he was raised by his father. Mother wrote to Zechariah about her situation, and he came to look after her—us—as best he could. My father did what he had to in order to support us and put a roof over our heads and food on the table. But he was gone for long stretches at a time. He died when I was thirteen.
“Then it was just my mother and me. She had to work to provide for me, but the only job she could find was as a laundress. The backbreaking labor took a toll, and she became sick. We couldn’t afford a doctor—we could barely afford food from the bits of money I was able to earn. But ‘decent’ folks looked down on us, and there was no one we could turn to for help. When she died I had to sell a brooch that had been in her family for four generations, just so she could have a proper burial.”
He fell silent and waited for Mattie’s reaction.
* * *
Mattie was saddened by Josiah’s description of his childhood. It seemed people were the same everywhere—turning their backs on those they condemned for some wrongdoing. Why did they never see that willfully ignoring the suffering of others was the real sin against decency?
Her own experiences had taught her that there were two sides to every story. And the majority viewpoint wasn’t always right or honorable, though the leaders of society worked hard to make everyone else believe it.
There was no disputing the fact that Josiah’s mother had made mistakes. But Mattie had made her fair share of them, too. She knew how a single error in judgment—such as trusting the wrong man—could lead to endless regrets and community censure.
Poor Josiah had been an innocent child at the time. He’d done nothing to deserve the disdain of others, yet she knew he’d felt it all the same.
Though he had kept his words matter-of-fact, she could still sense his hurt even now, years later. After everything he’d just told her, she was surprised by the generosity of spirit he’d displayed toward her and Adela. Most in his position would treat others as they themselves had been treated—never lending a hand to anyone because no one had ever done so for them. Instead, Josiah lived by the creed: do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
“That’s why you helped me right from the start, isn’t it? Because no one was there to help you and your mother.”
His mouth turned down at the corners. “There was nothing I could do when I was a child. But I can do something to help others now.”
And she had thrown that kindness back in his face so many times. Though she’d had her reasons, she could have been more affable toward him. On a few occasions, she’d been downright hostile in her refusal, painting him as a villain with nefarious motives. Which had been vastly unfair to him.
She reached out and placed her hand on his forearm. “I’ve never properly thanked you before. But I want you to know that even though I often turned down your help, I always appreciated you making the offer. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” Up to and including marriage. There was no way she could adequately repay him for that. “Maybe I should explain why—”
He shifted, causing her hand to fall away from his arm. “There’s no need for explanations. I can understand how you must have felt, living with the constant worry of inadvertently giving away the truth.”
<
br /> It went much deeper than that, but Josiah plainly wasn’t interested in hearing her personal revelations. She hadn’t missed his earlier hints that he’d rather be left alone, preferring the company of his horses over hers.
He took one last bite of food and handed the empty plate to her. “Thanks for bringing me supper.”
Without giving her a chance to utter so much as a polite “you’re welcome,” he turned his back and focused on his horse. A move she recognized as a dismissal. Did he regret telling her something so private about himself? Just when they were getting a bit more intimate, he’d pulled away.
As she returned to the covered wagons, thoughts of him predominated. He was so steady and strong, she’d never stopped to consider what emotional scars he might carry from his past.
It seemed they’d both had experience with circumstances being held against them. In her case, she had played a part—however unintended—in creating the situation. But for Josiah, he’d been judged through no fault of his own, merely the small-mindedness of others. She would have liked to tell him he wasn’t alone, that people had turned their backs on her, too. There was no point, however.
Having something in common could have served to draw them closer together, except Josiah didn’t want that. And neither should she, if she hoped to keep her heart whole when they parted.
* * *
“Thunderstorm’s heading toward us,” Elias commented after they finished supper one evening.
A week had passed since the night Josiah spent by Goldie’s side, and Mattie was relieved the mare’s minor injury hadn’t become a serious issue. She didn’t want him to lose anything else that mattered to him, and he set great store by his horses, hanging all his future plans on them.
Though the wagon train had passed the halfway point, the most difficult part of the journey was still ahead of them. There were countless dangers out on the trail, not the least of which were the elements.
Josiah glanced at the sky. “Yep. We’re in for a soaking.”
Wed on the Wagon Train Page 16
