A Hero's Heart

by Sylvia McDaniel

  Soon the line around the food table began moving, and Rachel spotted Wade ahead of her. She helped Grace choose her food, balancing her plate very carefully. When she’d taken care of the girl, she turned to find Wade in front of her with not one plate, but two.

  “I knew you would take care of everyone else but yourself, so I brought food for us both,” he said sheepishly.

  A spurt of giddiness rushed through her. He’d actually thought of her. “Thank you.”

  “You can sit by me, Wade.” Grace patted a spot on the quilt beside her. Rachel sank down, cautiously balancing her plate and leaving room for Wade.

  “I’d love to sit with my two favorite girls,” Wade said sitting between Rachel and Grace. “Where’s Toby and Becky?”

  “Toby’s off playing with the Simpsons’ boy,” Rachel replied as she spooned a bite of beans into her mouth. “And Becky was around here earlier. I don’t see her now.”

  “I saw her and Ethan leave earlier,” Grace replied.

  Rachel glanced down at Grace in surprise. “Ethan’s out hunting, sweetheart. Eat your dinner.”

  Wade raised his brows.

  By the time dinner was finished, the stars were out in abundance, and while the women cleared the dishes away, several men warmed up their fiddles. After helping with the dishes, Wade disappeared. Rachel and Mary sat watching the younger couples dance.

  “I’m beginning to worry about Ethan,” Mary declared a frown on her face. “I thought he would have returned by now.”

  “Don’t fret, Mary. He’ll be back soon,” Rachel replied.

  “You’re right,” Mary said, her blue eyes dark with concern.

  Rachel glanced around the campground, “Now I’ve lost Wade.”

  The two women laughed simultaneously. “We can’t seem to keep them in line, can we, Mary?” Rachel said as she realized a steady stream of men seemed headed toward the back of one of the wagons. She frowned as she watched them disappear.

  Leaning back in her chair, Rachel closed her eyes, gently rocking Daniel in her arms. She pushed all thoughts from her mind and let the music flow over her, easing her tired soul and weary body.

  Footsteps crunched the soft earth and stopped before her. She became aware of a strong presence and looked up to see Wade standing before her. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of his handsome face.

  He stretched out his hand, “Dance with me, Rachel?”

  She glanced at the couples moving gracefully in time with the music. Her palms dampened and she swallowed, trying to hide her nervousness. Though it looked like fun, Papa had never taught her to dance.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have Daniel,” she replied.

  Mary reached out her arms. “I’ll watch him. You go dance.”

  “No.” Rachel held on to the baby tighter. “I can’t.”

  Mary looked perplexed, and Wade frowned at Rachel. “Do you know how to dance, Rachel?”

  Rachel glanced up at Wade sheepishly. “Uh—No.”

  “Then it’s time you learned.” Before she could protest, Wade plucked Daniel out of Rachel’s arms. He handed the baby to a smiling Mary and pulled on Rachel’s hand, tugging her up from her chair. “I’m going to teach the waltz. Once you learn the steps, we’ll join the others.”

  Rachel’s concentration fled the moment he drew her into the safety of his arms. As they moved to the music, he showed her the pattern. Somehow her feet managed to grasp the rhythm.

  She shook back her hair and laughed, her gaze connecting with the warmth reflected from his emerald eyes. Heat shimmered from their depths, touching her everywhere as she felt her breathing quicken, her pulse pound.

  “I think you’ve got the steps down,” he told her. “Let’s join the other dancers.”

  “Are you sure?” Rachel asked hesitant.

  “You’re ready,” he announced.

  Rachel didn’t know if he was talking about her dancing or this connection between them, that seemed to leave her heated and radiating with color. She only knew that when Wade touched her, her body responded in ways she’d never dreamed possible.

  They joined the other dancers, and soon Rachel was laughing, having more fun than she could remember. She swooped and twirled until finally the music ended and she pleaded for a break.

  Breathless, she returned to Mary’s side while Wade sauntered off with the men. “I’m sorry, Mary. I didn’t mean to stick you with Daniel all evening.”

  “Nonsense. I love holding him, and I must say, you caught on quickly. Your husband is a wonderful teacher.”

  “Oh yes, my husband,” Rachel said breathlessly. “I still forget sometimes that we’re married.”

  “The way that handsome man looks at you?” Mary scoffed.

  Rachel looked back at Mary, a blush staining her cheeks. Was it that obvious to other people, this awareness, between herself and Wade? These feelings were so new, they left her confused and daze.

  She spotted Wade strolling toward her from the wagon behind which all the men had disappeared. His stride was confident and sure. Halfway to her, Sam Perkins stopped him and spoke. Wade pointed to the Simon’s wagon and with sudden insight; Rachel realized what was going on behind it. Fury shook her.

  In plain sight, a jug or a bottle of some kind of spirits was being passed around, each man taking a sip. Tomorrow morning would find many of the men suffering the effects of their drinking. She watched as Wade strode towards her, his long, lean legs moving with the grace of a panther.

  For an instant she felt like his prey. Stalked, and pursued, she was the booty at the end of the hunt. He appeared to be courting her, though she couldn’t imagine why.

  Wade stopped before her, a smile gracing his face, “Ready for another dance?”

  “Ask Mary to dance. I have to watch Daniel,” Rachel replied knowing it was an excuse, wanting to be in his arms, but resisting, afraid of the emotions he provoked.

  “Go on, Rachel,” said Mary. “There’s no sense in both of us being denied a good time. I don’t want to dance without Ethan, so you might as well. I’ll watch Daniel and Grace.”

  She wanted to dance with Wade again, but he had the smell of the devil’s brew on him and the smile of Satan, too. Still, she yearned to dance with him again.

  “Thanks Mary,” Rachel took Wade’s outstretched hand and followed him, to join the other dancers close to the fire. As the dance started, she whirled past him, the smell of whiskey wafting to her nose.

  “Partaking of the devil’s brew again, Mr. Ketchum?” Rachel asked, needing to challenge him rather than succumb.

  “Just a wee nip to celebrate the fourth, Mrs. Ketchum.”

  “Haven’t you heard a wee nip can send you to the gates of hell,” Rachel replied, her voice serious.

  Wade laughed, his voice vibrant and deep. “I’ve already been there and back. It’s not too bad once you get used to the heat.”

  “It’s dangerous to be talking this way, Mr. Ketchum.”

  “I hardly think a thimbleful of whiskey will send me to hell.” His voice rang with amusement as he spun her around, just as the dance ended.

  “Humph! The sinful never think they’ve done wrong.”

  Wade pulled her in close. “It’s time someone showed you how to relax and have a good time. I wish I could be that man.”

  Rachel pushed herself off the muscular wall of Wade’s chest. “I don’t need you to teach me anything. I already know how to have fun.”

  They walked in silence back to Mary, and Rachel couldn’t help but feel relieved that Ethan stood before his wife, Becky by his side.

  Rachel smiled at Ethan. “I told Mary you would return.”

  “I was out hunting,” Ethan said tiredly.

  “Did you hit anything?” Wade asked, his voice cool.

  “Didn’t even unstrap my rifle from the saddle. But I enjoyed the day,” Ethan said, his voice strong and sure.

  “Your wife has been gracious to watch th
e children while Wade and I danced. Now it’s her turn,” Rachel insisted. “Dance with your wife, Ethan.”

  Mary looked up at Ethan in expectation. Ethan offered her his hand. “May I have this dance?”

  With a smile, Mary handed the baby to Rachel and accepted Ethan’s offer. Becky took Mary’s chair until one of the young men approached her for a dance and she accepted.

  Wade watched Mary and Ethan on the dance floor. Shortly, he turned to Rachel. “You know they just don’t seem like they belong together.”

  “What are you talking about? They’re perfect for one another,” Rachel declared.

  “That sounds strange coming from a woman who still cares for him.”

  Rachel jerked around to face Wade, all her attention focused on him. “Whatever are you talking about?”

  “You moaned his name, Rachel,” Wade growled, his voice low and hard.

  Rachel glared at Wade as she tried to control her temper. “He’s married, for heaven’s sake.”

  “That doesn’t seem to bother your sister.”

  “What are you blathering about now?”

  “Watch Becky. Her eyes follow Ethan. She searches him out, and when he thinks no one is looking, he gazes back at her. If he wasn’t married, I’d think they were in love,” Wade said bluntly.

  Rachel couldn’t contain her frustration any longer.

  “That is the most ridiculous thing you’ve said tonight. Becky has always cared for Ethan as a brother. Your thimbleful of alcohol has affected your thinking. Did you go behind that wagon again?

  Wade smiled. “Are you counting?”

  “Of course not. It’s none of my business how you choose to live your life.” Her finger came up and poked him in the chest. “But your drunkenness is starting to show.”

  “I may have had a wee nip as my father used to say, but I’m nowhere close to being drunk,” Wade shrugged. “I’ve not had as much to drink as you and I shared one night.”

  Rachel drew in a quick breath. How dare he refer to that night!”

  “Mr. Ketchum, may I remind you that we are in a public place. One more remark regarding that night and I will feel pleasure in releasing my anger on the side of your face.”

  Wade threw back his head and laughed. “You know, Rachel, I don’t believe you could actually do it. Not my sweet angel.”

  “Don’t count on it, Wade. I’m not anyone’s ‘sweet angel’!”

  Suddenly the joy of dancing in his arms didn’t seem quite so delightful. She gathered up Daniel and Grace and returned to the wagon. For her, the party was over.

  * * *

  The children were tired and weary and quickly dropped off to sleep, leaving Rachel alone. She prepared for bed, and then lay in the stifling wagon, listening to the music, remembering the dancing, angry at Wade and unable to sleep.

  For several hours, she tossed and turned, waiting for sleep to overcome her, waiting for Wade to return to their wagon. Finally, after midnight, the fiddlers packed away their instruments and the revelers quieted for the night.

  Still Wade did not return. He really wasn’t drunk when she left him; he’d only had a few sips of the devil’s drink or so he said.

  Punching the pillow, Rachel turned over, wishing sleep would overcome her. The man was quite capable of taking care of himself.

  Crickets chirped, owls hooted and nocturnal voices cried to one another in the still night air. The crickets quieted as another voice joined in their nightly song. Wade’s deep, baritone voice, filled the air as he sang at the top of his lungs.

  “Rachel Cooke, won’t you come out tonight? Come out, tonight. Come out tonight. Rachel Cooke, won’t you come out tonight and dance by the light of the moon?”

  She fought a sudden urge to giggle. It really wasn’t funny. The man was singing loud enough to wake the entire camp and the dead, too, and using her maiden name to boot.

  She scrambled to the back of the wagon and yanked open the canvas. “Shh! People are trying to sleep!”

  “Honey, I really don’t give a damn! I want to dance and you left me without a partner,” he replied in a drunken slur. “So I had me another little nip.”

  “From the way you’re acting, I’d say you had more than a nip. How much whiskey did you drink?”

  “Not nearly enough,” he replied.

  “Mr. Ketchum! It’s time for bed. You’re not going to remember any of this in the morning,” she announced, her voice stilted, her emotions raw.

  Wade shook his head drunkenly. “Not until I get to dance with you again.”

  “Another night, Wade. Come to bed.”

  “Okay. I warned you.” He took a deep breath and broke the silence again. “Rachel Cooke, won’t you come out tonight? Come out tonight. Come out tonight. Rachel Cooke, won’t you come out tonight and dance by the light of the moon?”

  “Would you please be quiet!” she said, her voice harsh.

  “Are you going to dance with me?” he asked.

  “No!”

  He inhaled a robust breath. “Rachel Cooke…

  “Very well! Just quiet down before you wake the children and the entire camp,” Rachel grabbed her wrapper, covering her nightgown. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to dance with this drunken fool in the middle of the night. Come morning he’d pay dearly for what he’d drunk tonight.

  She climbed out of the wagon and turned to face him.

  He stepped toward her until he was so close she felt almost overpowered by him.

  “God, you looked beautiful tonight, Rachel.” He brushed her hair back away from her face. “Wear your hair down more often.”

  Rachel grabbed his hand. “The dance, remember?”

  Wade shook his head. “Oh, right. We were going to dance.” He took her in his arms, then stopped. “But there’s no music.” He paused and said, “I’ll sing.”

  “No! Wade, it’s late. Just pretend we hear music.”

  He frowned down at her, then his feet began to move, but it wasn’t in the rhythm of the Waltz he’d taught her earlier in the evening. This time the dance was much slower, much closer. Rachel had never seen anyone dance this way before, bodies brushing, breaths mingling.

  He moved her arms up around his neck and pulled her body tight against his. A cool breeze alerted her, he’d undone the ties to her wrapper and slipped his hands inside to her thin cotton gown.

  A searing kiss that tasted of whiskey left her knees weak. A swirling curl of desire began in the pit of her stomach. Then the overpowering stench of liquor rocked her senses back to reality.

  She brought both hands up between them and pushed with all her strength, sending him flying into the dirt, where he landed with a plop on his backside.

  He glared up at her in stunned surprise. “Why in the hell did you do that, woman?”

  “You’re stinking drunk!”

  “Damn it, I had to do something to get my mind off you. Otherwise, I was going to crawl over that damn board and take you like a real husband would,” he said with a low moan and laid his head back on the soft earth.

  His admission stunned her. Part of her secretly wanted him to crawl over that board and take her. She wanted to completely experience the feelings Wade aroused in her, but left unfulfilled. Then her sensible voice whispered that she’d regret her actions later. The liquor was talking, not Wade.

  “There’s no excuse for becoming drunk, Mr. Ketchum.”

  He grabbed her wrapper and tugged just hard enough to pull her down. She landed with a thud on top of him. Through the thin cotton the hard muscles of his chest pressed against her breasts. With stunning clarity, she felt every muscle, including the one between his legs, which was hard.

  His lips touched hers and an instant sizzle burned from her mind all thought of anything other than Wade. His arms molded her tightly against him as desire slammed through Rachel, igniting every nerve ending.

  “Mrs. Ketchum, it’s obvious you know nothing about men. I suggest you get your pretty little bustle b
ack inside that wagon and keep it there. Or else you’re not going to be a virgin when you reach Oregon.”

  Shame and embarrassment replaced the desire that had filled her. Without thinking she broke free and slapped him as hard as she could. She gasped, shocked at this act. Quickly, she jumped up and fled into the wagon.

  Chapter Nine

  “What in the hell?” Wade sat straight up, ice water cascading from his face. The predawn light shimmered around Rachel as she stood before him, her face set in angry lines, an empty bucket in her hand.

  “Get up from there, Mr. Ketchum!” Rachel commanded. “I’ll not have you embarrassing me or the children by having the whole train awakening to find you sprawled on the ground, snoring drunkenly.”

  Wade shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs from his muddled brain. When he moved, his head pounded like a steam locomotive.

  The last he remembered of the night before he was dancing with Rachel, her sweet fragrance, gentle curves and pleasant smile driving him crazy with desire.

  With startling clarity, he remembered consuming enough whiskey to dull the fire in his loins and any intelligent thought in his head.

  “Get up, Wade,” she demanded, her face tight with barely restrained control.

  Wade eased himself up from the ground, his head throbbing from the movement. His stomach reeled from the whiskey. He looked at Rachel and knew he was in hot water with the righteous Miss Cooke.

  “Couldn’t you have awakened me with a gentle kiss sweet Rachel?” he asked, goading her anger even further.

  Her face turned scarlet, and he watched as she clenched her fists. “Get yourself cleaned up and take care of the animals.”

  He looked down at his dripping clothes. “I think you’ve already bathed me for the day.”

  “I had to do something to get the stench of whiskey off you,” Rachel spat out before she stalked off and proceeded to stir up their small fire.

  “Just what exactly did I do to put such a bee in your bonnet this early in the morning?” he asked.

  His words seemed to light a fire beneath her as she approached him, her chest heaving. “Oh! You don’t remember, do you? What part shall I tell you first? That you accused me of still loving Ethan? Or that you slipped behind a wagon and drank to excess. Or how you came back drunk and singing tawdry saloon songs at the top of your lungs? Shall I continue?”