A Hero's Heart

by Sylvia McDaniel

  She slipped her hand between them and pushed him away. “Wade, stop. We mustn’t.”

  He opened his eyes and Rachel shuddered at the passion reflected from their depths. “Why, Rachel?”

  “It isn’t proper,” she whispered as she watched his chest rise and fall with ragged breaths. “It isn’t right.”

  Wade sighed with frustration and released her, putting distance between the two of them. “It might not be right to your way of thinking, but it feels damn good to me.”

  With that, Wade turned and strolled away, leaving Rachel behind in the grove. She had only kissed one other man in her life. And for some reason the memory of Ethan’s kisses didn’t compare to Wade’s.

  A sudden noise, the scrape of wood against wood, sent her scurrying from the grove. She ran out just in time to see Wade drop the third box of Bibles on the ground.

  “What are you doing?” she cried.

  “I’m dumping the Bibles.”

  Rachel watched as he went back into the water and sloshed to the wagon to retrieve another box. She chased him into the stream and grabbed at his arm. “Stop. You can’t do this. We must have these Bibles for the church.”

  Wade pulled his arm free and climbed back into the wagon. He lifted the box and started to shore. When he reached the bank, he dropped the box onto the ground. Rachel ran to the waterside and tried to lift the heavy box to lug it back to the wagon.

  Several wagons pulled up at the edge of the bank to await their turn to cross the small creek. One of the men yelled at Wade, “What’s in those boxes, Ketchum?”

  “Bibles.”

  Mr. Drake, one of the immigrants, laughed. “Your wife thought she was going to get ’em all the way to Oregon?”

  Wade frowned at the man. “My wife’s father was a missionary who was killed on the trail by Indians. He was going out West to start a church.”

  The man abruptly quit laughing. Wade popped the wooden lid off the box, reached down and lifted out five of the brand new books.

  He handed Drake one of the bibles, “Here, maybe you could use one.”

  Exhausted by the strain and emotion, Rachel watched in disbelief as Wade walked down the row of waiting wagons and handed each woman a Bible, coming back to the boxes time and again until he’d emptied every one. From the expressions on their faces, she knew Wade had just won the heart of every female on this train at the expense of her father’s Bibles.

  It was hard to accept, but she had to give Wade credit. It was better to give the books to their fellow travelers than to leave them by the trail where they would only rot in the hot sun. They would serve people’s spiritual needs as her father had intended. And at least she still had her mother’s organ.

  But Wade’s actions confused Rachel even more. She didn’t know whether to thank him or curse him. Then there was that small part of her that just wanted him to hold her.

  * * *

  Struggling with the wagon in the mud had already delayed them over an hour. Rachel watched the men gather to help Wade free the wheels.

  From the corner of her eye she glimpsed a masculine blonde head bobbing in the crowd. His build caught her attention. Somehow he seemed familiar. She hadn’t seen him previously with the group, and his back was turned to her, but something about the way he carried himself, the shape of his body told her he wasn’t a stranger.

  The man turned and headed toward the wagon, and Rachel saw his face clearly for the first time.

  She did a double take and stared unable to believe her eyes. For the first time in four long years she gazed in disbelief at the man she had loved so long ago.

  “Oh, dear,” she murmured, stunned.

  Rachel jumped up, her previous discomforts forgotten as she ran towards the wagon calling, “Ethan Beauchamp, is that you?”

  The man stopped. His gaze shifted to Rachel. The clear blue eyes she had cried for stared back at her in disbelief.

  “Rachel?”

  Ethan ran towards her and grabbed her, sweeping her up in a spin, hugging her regardless of her wet, muddy state.

  “Oh, Ethan, it’s been so long. I can’t believe you’re here!”

  Chapter Seven

  Wade stared, his jaw clenched. Rachel wrapped her arms around this stranger, hugging him as if he were the prodigal son returned. He watched in irritation as the man stepped back from his wife’s embrace and scrutinized Rachel. Though he couldn’t hear their words, Rachel’s laughter sounded joyous, and her faced beamed, bright with excitement.

  Wade had never seen her truly happy. It rankled him that another man had brought that smile to her face.

  He tried to tell himself that he wasn’t jealous, that he didn’t want any gossip or speculation about their marriage. But damn, he didn’t like this man pawing Rachel.

  A loud splash drew Wade’s attention from the couple, and he watched in disbelief as the priggish Miss Becky waded through the creek as fast as her long, wet skirts allowed. When she reached the happy couple, she stepped between Rachel and the man to throw herself in his arms. Whoever he was, both women were delighted to see him.

  The women hooked their arms in the man’s and proceeded to the bank, where Wade purposely positioned himself. Rachel demurely met his gaze, her hazel eyes uncertain, as her hand rested in the crook of the man’s arm.

  She cleared her throat nervously. “Wade, I’d like you to meet a friend from home. Ethan Beauchamp.”

  The name hit him like a fist in the face. Wade struggled to remain nonchalant in front of the man whose name Rachel had murmured that night when she’d kissed him by the fire.

  The insidious cord of jealousy wound its way around Wade’s heart, strangling the organ. The urge to throttle the man was strong. But instead he offered Ethan his hand. “I’m Rachel’s husband, Wade Ketchum.”

  Ethan turned to Rachel, clearly ignoring Wade. “You’re married! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  A blush stained Rachel’s face.”It’s only been two weeks. We were married in Fort Laramie.”

  It had been difficult for her to say those words, her yearning to tell Ethan the truth all too clear.

  The man turned back to Wade, and shook his outstretched hand, his grip soft but firm. “Ethan Beauchamp. Nice to meet the man who stole these two lovely ladies from me.”

  Wade nodded in acknowledgement while he scrutinized Ethan.

  “Well, you’re not the only ones with news. I, too, got married before heading out West,” Ethan proclaimed.

  Wade thought he was going to have to hold up both women as they absorbed this new information. Becky dropped Ethan’s arm as if it were a red-hot poker, and Rachel’s turned whiter than the snow-topped Rockies.

  Rachel gulped. “How nice.”

  The stunned look on Becky’s face dissipated, only to be replaced with a pout. “Whom did you marry, Ethan?”

  “Someone you’ve never met. Her name is Mary,” he replied.

  “My my, you always were impulsive.” Becky glared at Ethan with open hostility. “I guess we just weren’t good enough.”

  He reached out and lifted Rachel’s hand to his lips. “Oh no. I never forgot my two favorite girls. But it’s a lonely life being a circuit preacher, and I couldn’t bear to be alone.”

  Wade snorted with disgust. Did women really fall for this sappy foolishness?

  “We’d better get that wagon moved, so the rest of these people can cross,” Wade said, ready to be rid of Mr. Beauchamp. Of all the people in the world, he had to wind up traveling with Rachel’s old beau.

  * * *

  “Rachel, I’d like you to meet my wife, Mary,” Ethan said later that night. Rachel set her sewing aside, and stood up to greet the petite woman with a cherubic face.

  Her sweet smile, blonde curls and sapphire eyes gave her the look of an angel. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Ketchum.”

  She couldn’t have been much older than Becky, Rachel thought, watching her stand in the flickering firelight, expectant and unsure, while Ethan di
sappeared to speak with the rest of the men.

  The two women eyed each other dubiously. “Please, call me Rachel. While the men go off to talk business, why don’t you sit here with me beside the fire?”

  Rachel had been prepared to dislike Ethan’s wife, to resent the woman who had taken the place she had once hoped to occupy. But it wasn’t Mary’s fault Rachel’s father had objected to her marrying Ethan. It wasn’t Mary’s fault fate had ended their courting.

  “Thank you. I thought it so gallant of your husband to give the women Bibles this afternoon. I know you didn’t want to lose them, but you must be awfully proud of him.”

  A twinge of guilt pricked Rachel. “Yes, it was better than leaving them to rot by the trail.”

  “I made a note in mine, so that my great-grandchildren will look back and see his name,” Mary proudly proclaimed. “Your husband must be a wonderful man.”

  Rachel picked up the sewing that she’d momentarily laid in her lap. “He’s…unique.”

  Every woman on the train must think that Wade a hero for giving out the Bibles, but none of them knew he was really a bullheaded gambler down on his luck, who had taken her and the children under his wing. The only reason Wade had agreed to their proposition was money.

  Mary took out her own needlework and sat on the stool beside Rachel’s rocker. “How long have you been married?”

  Rachel bit her tongue, trying to control the sense of uneasiness that question always seem to bring. She gazed intently at the button she was stitching on Toby’s shirt. “We were married a little over two weeks ago, in Fort Laramie.”

  “Oh, my! How exciting!” Mary exclaimed. “Ethan and I have been married for six months.”

  Rachel lifted her head to gaze at Mary, her curiosity overcoming her. “Where did you meet Ethan?”

  A tender smile graced Mary’s delicate face. “At a church social. He was the visiting preacher. We had a whirlwind courtship, and two weeks later we were married.”

  “You married him two weeks after you met him?” Rachel exclaimed.

  A soft smile touched Mary’s lips. “It was rather sudden, but as a missionary, he would be leaving to continue his work. I had to go with him.”

  Rachel frowned. Ethan had been visiting her father’s church when they’d fallen in love. Yet he’d left Rachel after her father found them kissing. Had she misconstrued their relationship four years ago, or did he find a woman at every church he visited?

  “How did you meet Mr. Ketchum?” Mary asked innocently.

  Rachel told her the unfortunate details of the attack on the wagon train, her father’s slaying and Wade’s rescue of them. Telling the story always reminded her of her loss.

  “You were fortunate Mr. Ketchum came along and rescued you.”

  “Where are you and Ethan heading?”

  “Oregon City. Ethan is going to settle down and teach. And preach when he has a chance,” Mary replied softly. “How about you? Where are you and Wade going?”

  Rachel frowned. Their final destination would also bring about Wade’s departure. A sense of uneasiness crept through her at the thought of parting, leaving her perplexed.

  “We’re going to The Dalles. My father intended to help a young man named Ben Marshall with his church. “

  “Oh, well, now you have your husband.”

  For a moment, Rachel was stunned. Mary had only seen Wade handing out Bibles. The side of him Rachel had found in that saloon back in Fort Laramie was hidden, safely tucked away until the next time the gambling fever took him away.

  The baby started to cry, and Mary glanced at Rachel. “Would you mind if I picked him up?”

  “Go ahead. It’s his bedtime and he’s starting to get fussy.”

  The longer she spoke with Mary, the more she liked the woman. Yet she couldn’t help wonder why it didn’t bother her that Mary and Ethan were together. Ethan looked the same, yet she didn’t feel that spark of attraction she’d once felt. It seemed his image had been replaced by a tall, dark-headed man with emerald eyes, whose laugh was deep and throaty.

  It wasn’t long before Ethan returned for his wife, a somber Wade at his side. Becky trailed behind them, a pout upon her rosy lips.

  “I think I’ll turn in for the night,” Becky said, retreating to the tent.

  “Good night, Becky,” Ethan called to her his deep baritone voice warm and pleasant. “I’m glad we found each other again.”

  Becky turned around, a frown gracing her pretty face. She hesitated, staring at Ethan as if she wanted to say something, before she turned and walked away.

  Ethan took a seat beside Mary and draped his arm casually around his wife.

  Mary cleared her throat. “Ethan told me you almost married him, Rachel.”

  A loud choking noise erupted from Wade, as he’d chosen that moment to take a sip of coffee. Apparently, Mary’s news startled him, and Rachel almost laughed. Served the man right.

  “We were just kids. Too young to know what we wanted.”

  Ethan spoke up, “Papa Cooke was very protective of his daughters. He sent me packing.”

  Mary glanced at Rachel, “Why did your father object?”

  “My mother had recently passed away and Papa was determined to take care of us. He didn’t rate suitors too highly.”

  “Isn’t it strange how life works? My father was not happy that I married Ethan, either. But he couldn’t stop me.”

  Ethan squeezed Mary to him. “She loved me enough to leave her family behind.”

  Wade stood up and threw the rest of his coffee into the fire. The liquid made a hissing sound as it hit the flames. “I hate to leave such interesting company, but I have to go check on the stock.”

  His boots crunched on the dry earth as he walked away.

  “It is getting late and we have to be up early,” Ethan declared. Standing, he pulled Mary up beside him.

  She laid her hand on Rachel’s arm. “I’m so glad we joined up with this train and I met you. The trip has been lonely not having a woman friend. It’s going to be nice to have someone to gossip with.”

  Rachel was surprised at her easy acceptance of Mary as Ethan’s wife. But she genuinely liked the young woman, and was pleased Ethan was happy.

  Ethan hugged Rachel. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He took Mary’s arm, and they strolled toward their wagon. Rachel watched as they disappeared from sight.

  Life was odd. As Rachel watched him go, she couldn’t remember why she’d been so attracted to the preacher.

  * * *

  Shadowy with moonlight, Wade climbed inside the wagon, trying not to wake Rachel. She was close enough to touch, yet out of reach for a man like himself.

  Quietly, Wade shucked his pants. He crawled into the pallet and pulled the quilt over his body. The night air was chilly. Chilly enough that he wanted someone to snuggle up against. Anything besides a damn board.

  The thought of throwing the board out and curling up next to Rachel left him hotter than a warm summer day. He couldn’t keep thinking of her this way. They lived in different worlds, traveled in different circles; and now her precious Ethan had returned, though he was married to another woman.

  With a punch to his pillow, Wade rolled onto his side.

  “Are you awake?” Rachel asked softly.

  The sound of her voice, in the dark, sent shivers down Wade’s spine.

  “Yes,” he replied through gritted teeth.

  The bedclothes rustled from the movements of her body as she turned over, sending Wade’s blood rushing. “What you did today, with the Bibles…”

  “Yes?” he challenged, certain she was going to berate him.

  “I’m grateful for what you did. This way they will all reach Oregon.” Silence filled the wagon. “Thank you for not leaving them to rot,” she whispered in the darkness.

  “You’re welcome. Does this mean you’re not angry at me anymore?” Wade tried to tease, but his tone emerged serious.

  “Let’s just say
you made the best of a bad situation.”

  Wade turned over, facing the board. On the other side of the wood lay the flesh-and-blood woman he found all too attractive. A woman he thought of all day long on the trail. And the nights…were worse.

  “Wade?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you like Ethan?”

  “Quite frankly, no,” Wade replied. “And you don’t want to hear my reasons why.”

  Stillness filled the wagon. Rachel shifted and Wade wanted to moan. Every time she moved he imaged her nightgown inching up to reveal her hips, leaving her long legs exposed.

  “Yes, I do, Wade. Tell me.”

  The assertion stunned him. “You won’t like it.”

  “Probably not.”

  “There’s something that’s not completely honest about him. I think he’s a man who uses his profession to get women.”

  Rachel laughed, her voice filling the small wagon. “You couldn’t be further from the truth. Ethan is completely devoted to God and his word. The only reason women flocked to him was because he was single.”

  “That and his kissing, which I know you took part in,” Wade growled.

  “I was only eighteen,” Rachel whispered in the darkness. “He left when Papa sent him away.”

  “Did he tell you that he loved you? Did he promise never to leave you?” Wade asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Your father must have been intimidating as hell to scare him off, or he didn’t love you enough to stay.” Wade paused. “Which one was it, Rachel?”

  “I don’t know why you think this is any of your business.”

  “It’s not. But you asked. And you moaned his name that night around the campfire. The night I almost made love to you.”

  A sharp intake of breath filled the wagon. “We did not almost make love. You tricked me.”

  Wade raised up and leaned over the bundling board. “I don’t have to trick women into kissing me or making love to me.”

  “Well, I didn’t do it voluntarily.”

  Something in Wade snapped. He knocked the board down. The hunger of the last few weeks, the yearning to taste her again, overwhelmed him and he rolled over the wall to slake his desire.