Then there was the portrait he’d drawn. Mind racing, she’d seen her mother. Every stroke of the pencil shouted he had a good soul to be able to express himself like this. Memories of her parents sent her mind whirling. She missed her family and his portrait made her acknowledge how lonely she really was.
Clarity never came for Joy, but she did know she would stop running from Jared. He was only trying to be nice, and she was acting like a scared rabbit on the run.
“It’s cold early this year,” she said as she entered the cabin.
“Yes, it is. Why don’t you come here, and we can start your lessons.”
“I don’t need for you to teach me how to—”
“Let me do something for you. You have done so much for me.”
Lucas told her whites didn’t believe blacks should be educated. She found Lucas to be wrong on several issues. “Can you play cards?”
He looked at her crosswise. “I know a few games,” he drawled.
“Then teach me how to play cards, because I don’t need for you to teach me how to read.”
“I think reading is more important than cards.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Then why won’t you allow me to teach you?”
“You think I’m a dolt, don’t you? I’ve been reading since I was four.” Maybe Lucas was right after all. He actually thought her too stupid to read.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of. I’d venture to guess most people in these parts don’t know how to read.”
Joy grew angrier by the second. Were all white men as arrogant as Jared Montgomery? “So you’re not only better than me, you’re better than everyone in the area.”
“I didn’t say or mean that.”
“What exactly did you mean? I’m a little slow and need you to educate me on your thought process.”
He ran his large hand over his face. “You can read, can’t you?”
“I told you I could.”
“I’m sorry. I heard you, but wasn’t listening. I just assumed you couldn’t read when you thought the portrait of you was your mother.”
“I was overwhelmed from not seeing her in such a long time. When I went outside, I realized you couldn’t have drawn her. You didn’t even know her. I must resemble her.”
He stared at her. “Joy, haven’t you ever seen yourself?”
Head cocked to the side, she asked, “Why would I want to look at myself?”
“But didn’t your mother ever show you a mirror?”
“My mother had a mirror. I haven’t looked at one since I was six or so. Why? Do you miss your mirror? I can find my mother’s, and you can have it.”
He laughed. “No thanks, I think I can manage without the mirror. Do you have a deck of cards?”
His laugh was music to her ears. This attraction to him didn’t make sense and unnerved her, but at the same time she liked it. She ran off to find the cards. “I have always wanted to know how to play cards.”
“May I stay here until my leg heals?”
Joy called from the other room, “By the time your leg mends it’ll be winter. You’d be stuck out here until the spring thaw.” Waving a deck of cards, she came out of the extra room.
Jared took the cards from her. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind. Think of all the card games you can learn in that amount of time,” he said jokingly as he awkwardly counted cards and shuffled the deck. “My arm is killing me. I must have sprained it when I fell.”
Joy watched him closely. He could draw and play cards. Maybe he wasn’t totally bad after all. She would just have to do a little extra hunting and go back to the east side of the mountain to trade in order to ensure they’d eat through the winter. Plus, she was lonely. “I guess you can stay.”
Joy sat at the table, eagerly awaiting her first lesson. “Why were you out there anyway? Couldn’t you tell the terrain in that area was too rough to ride a horse on?”
Jared dealt five cards each. “I was exploring.”
Joy examined her cards, ordering them by number and suit. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
He offered a half smile. “I think I have.”
Joy glanced at Jared, sure not to make eye contact. Second thoughts about allowing him to stay the winter traipsed through her mind. The pull he had on her couldn’t be a good thing and left her with conflicting feelings; after all, he was a white man. Jared having this power over her scared her. She wondered if he knew how he affected her. She hoped not. “What are we playing?” She showed him her cards.
“Poker.”
When Joy returned to the cabin, her smile, though faded, had returned. Jared swore to do whatever it took to bring it back full force. Then he’d insulted, yet again. Why he continually underestimated her was beyond him. Joy was obviously as sharp as a tack and well-educated. He had insulted her again.
Jared sorted the cards then laid out a pair and three of a kind, explaining the different types of books. He pointed to a full house and explained its making.
Somehow he found her display of anger very arousing: dark hair pulled away from her toffee face with a few tendrils dangling, taunting; luscious kiss-me lips; mocha eyes that simmered with passion; a little on the thin side, but more than enough woman to bury himself deep inside her.
She wasn’t Brave Heart’s woman as he had thought. The path to her was clear. This would complicate things. He was torn. His body ached for her, but this was more. He convinced himself the only reason he felt so protective of her was because she saved his life. He owed her. He’d repay her kindness by making sure she’d make it through the winter.
Who am I kidding? He needed peace for his weary soul and had been drawn to the mountain by some unknown force telling him this was where he’d find it. Then Joy walked into his life, and he knew this was where he belonged.
He thought back to his dream and how he’d been calmed by the sweet angelic song of the mountain. He thought about the beauty of the cabin with its fine woodwork and welcoming aura. He watched Joy shuffling cards, and for the first time in his life, he felt a peace from within.
Chapter Five
“I beat you again.” Joy tossed her cards on the table, hopped out of her seat, reached for the sky and slowly spun while swinging her hips.
Jared smirked. “You’re becoming overconfident.” This time he’d lost on purpose to see her victory dance. All the clothes she wore hid her figure, but her sensual movements made his body ache for her and filled his mind with thoughts of making love with her.
“You’re just a sore loser.” She took her seat.
“It’s beginners luck.” The first time she’d done the dance had shocked them both. She’d realized what she was doing, stopped mid hip-swing and sat down, apologizing. To encourage her to do the dance again, the next time he won, he did his version of a horrible victory dance from his seat. She laughed so hard she fell from her chair. From that point on, she did her dance and he enjoyed watching.
Wondering her age, he shuffled the deck. Young and full of fire. He began to worry; maybe she was too young. He made the decision that if she were under sixteen, she was too young. Now all he needed to do was find out her age.
“Humph, that’s what you said three weeks ago. Let me shuffle this time.” She took the deck from him and meticulously shuffled the deck.
He enjoyed the way she took everything so seriously. It was only a game, but you would think she shuffled for her life. And she picked up on everything so quickly. It was bad enough she could beat him in poker, blackjack, and every other card game he taught her; a few days ago she’d found a chessboard and started to beat him at that also. He actually had to work hard to beat her. “I think you’re stacking the deck.”
“And who would have taught me such a skill?” She narrowed her eyes on him, still unwilling to look directly into his eyes.
He reckoned she knew every inch of his face, but had no idea he had eyes. They had become closer, and his sense of humor went a long way
in putting her at ease, yet she still held back, afraid to trust him completely. Cracking a few jokes wasn’t a way to build trust and win her heart. The realization that he wanted to win her heart took him by surprise. He’d never felt like this before.
She won again and began another round of her victory dance. Sexual frustration in charge, he blurted out, “Do you ever wear a dress?”
She stopped her dance. “And what is wrong with what I’m wearing?”
Watching her move so sensually had gotten to him. He needed to see more. He wanted to know if she were as he’d imagined. “I just can’t figure out why a woman would want to go around in baggy, men’s clothes is all.”
“And I can’t figure out why a grown man never bathes. You stink.” She drew her hands to her mouth, but then forced them down as if to stand her ground. “I’m sorry. My father taught us to always think before we speak. But what I said is true.”
Jared blinked a few times, as if this would rewind her words for a second hearing. “I what?”
Her lips transformed into a devilish grin as she spoke with his slow southern drawl. “Kind sir, your odor is offensive. Why don’t you take a bath and change your clothes? I put a trunk in your room two days ago with my father’s clothes in it. Granted they may not fit, but did you try? You may not like my attire, but at least it’s clean.”
Reaching for the meaning, he mumbled, “I stink?”
“You’ve been here three weeks and haven’t taken a full bath or washed your clothes.”
Dumbfounded, he watched her gather buckets of hot water from the stove he thought she’d be using for her bath. He knew he’d only taken birdbaths, but he couldn’t believe she actually told him he stinks. He’d tried to figure out a way to bathe properly and wash his clothes, but couldn’t come up with anything, and no way would he ask her for help. She’d already done too much for him, and he didn’t want to treat her like his servant.
Guilt overtook Joy’s face. “I’m sorry about saying you stink. My family would be very disappointed in me. I should have chosen my words better.”
She made a few trips between the stove and her bedroom with buckets of water to fill the tub. “I’ll help you get in and out of the tub if you need. You wear undergarments, don’t you?”
Dazed, he glanced up at her, hearing but not hearing. “Yes, of course.”
She gathered two buckets of cool water and took them into her room.
He almost grasped it. “She said I stink.” Having a hardy laugh, he fell out of his chair. Joy ran into the room and found him on the floor cracking up. He pointed at her with his good arm. “You said I stink.”
Relief washed over Joy’s face. “If you break my chair, you’re making me another one.” She joined in the laughter.
In shock, he hadn’t truly heard a thing she said after the “you stink” part. She was correct. He did stink. A southern bell would have never said such a thing. It was refreshing to have a California wild flower around. “I’ll tell you what, Joy. I take a bath and you wear a dress tomorrow.”
She stopped laughing.
He rose clumsily, lifted his good arm and smelled his armpit. “That is unless you’ve decided my odor is no longer offensive.” They both continued their laugh.
The layers of filth melted away into the tub and released a new man. Jared had made it into the large tin tub without help and was devising a plan on how to get out. Joy’s pet wolf, Night, decided he liked Jared’s company and was in the room with him.
“Okay, big boy, how am I going to get out of here?”
“Are you all right in there?” Joy called from the kitchen. “You aren’t drowning or anything, are you?”
“I’m just trying to figure out how to get out of the tub without tipping it.”
“Filled with water, the tub’s heavy. I don’t think you’ll tip it. Do you have a chair close? Use your good arm to lift yourself onto the chair.”
He stared at the offending chair. “I’ve tried that and almost broke my neck.”
“I’m coming in. Cover yourself.”
Jokingly he answered, “I knew you wanted to see my body. Wait a second.” He quickly washed his underpants and clumsily put them on. He would change to his clean ones after he was safely out of the tub. He covered himself with a towel. “I’m ready.”
She stepped into the room and laughed, shaking her head. “What a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Mr. Montgomery.”
He loved the way she called him Mr. Montgomery as a term of endearment. “Me? You’re the one who said I stink.”
She set the chair closer to the tub. “You’re too heavy for me to lift, but I can help balance you until you get into the chair.” She took off her slippers and stepped into the tub. “Ready.”
He looked up at her. “Are you always this practical?” A southern bell wouldn’t have stepped into the tub with a semi-naked man either. Jared smiled, thinking how much more he preferred the mountain women of California than southern bells.
She stooped to him, jokingly saying, “Are you planning on staying in this tub until your leg heals?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m all yours.”
Joy gently positioned his armpit over her shoulder. “I’ll try not to hurt you,” she whispered. She put her arms around his waist and started lifting as he lifted himself with his good arm and leg. Halfway up he stumbled slightly and released the towel with his bad hand. The towel fell into the water.
Her gaze slowly caressed the rippled abdomen and powerful chest, then continued upward to his broad shoulders and neck. Jared liked the way she appraised his body. Her burning gaze spoke volumes. He could feel himself becoming harder and harder by the second and was glad she’d lifted her eyes.
“Have you never seen a man before?” He liked the feel of her body next to his.
Eyes closed, she inhaled deeply. “No, not this close.”
He settled all his weight on his good leg, took her chin in his hand and he lifted her face to connect with his eyes. Her whole body began trembling. Unadulterated fear replaced the desire in her eyes. Gasping for air, she backed away from him, almost tripping out of the tub. He reached for her, but she was too fast. She ran from the room.
“Wait.” He wanted to stop her pain, remove her fears. He sat on the chair, grabbed a second towel and dried himself. He dressed quickly, found his crutches and followed her. He found her sitting in front of three graves, and his heart sunk. Her parents hadn’t abandoned or left her. They were dead.
He clumsily sat on the ground beside her the best he could and set the crutch to the side. His leg throbbed from the cost of this walk. “How long have they been gone?”
“Around nine springs.”
He brushed stray hairs behind her ear. Glad she didn’t push his hand away, he caressed her back to soothe her. “How did they die?”
She wiped away tears with the back of her hand, mumbling, “My baby brother died of fever shortly after his birth, but my parents were murdered.”
He didn’t need to ask the next question, for he already knew the answer. A white man with green eyes killed her parents. Everything fell into place. From Joy’s reactions to his eyes, she must have seen it happen. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen springs.”
Springs again, not years? Her choice of words intrigued him along with everything else about her. “You’ve been alone since it happened?”
“My godfather comes by twice a year to check on me, and my tribe is on the east side of the mountain. I trade for the things I need.”
She didn’t look like a half-breed to him, but he was no expert on Indians. It wasn’t important anyway, so he wouldn’t mention it. “You’re all wet. Let’s go inside before you get sick. I’m not as good a doctor as you.” He led her inside. She was so young when it happened. How did she survive all of this time alone? How can I convince her I’m not like the man who killed her family?
Jared set the buckets to heat, then watched her. She was so broken,
all he wanted to do was heal her wounded spirit.
He pulled a chair from under the table and sat so his knees almost touched hers. She didn’t move or acknowledge him. He leaned forward, whispering, “You need a bath, you stink.”
She threw her head back and laughed until she fell forward crying. He pulled her onto his lap and rocked her in his arms, knowing she wasn’t crying from his joke. The pain in his leg was excruciating, but his heart rejoiced, for she willingly cuddled into him. He knew they’d crossed a new milestone.
Dressed in flannel pajamas and a robe, Joy stepped out of her room, saying, “I’m fresh again.” She shot Jared a sly grin. “I didn’t think I’d ever get the tub clean.”
The woman was entirely too sexy and had no idea what she was doing to him. “That makes two of us. Where’s the dress you’re wearing tomorrow?”
“I’ll grab one of my mother’s old dresses. It doesn’t really matter which one.”
He watched her straighten her bun. Putting her hair in such a tight ball had to hurt. “Why don’t you let your hair down?”
“You can drive an insane man sane. What is this thing you have with appearance? Are all men interested in looks?”
He knew her sense of humor and was glad to see she had recovered from their earlier incident. “I’ll tell you what. You let down your hair, and I’ll shave. Do you have your father’s blade?”
She twisted her face, dryly saying, “It seems as if I always get the short end of the stick with these deals of yours. I’ll be back with his blade.”
A few minutes later, she sat across the kitchen table from him and watched him shave. “You’re going to kill yourself,” she stated as he cut himself with the blade—again.
“If I had a mirror, this wouldn’t be happening.”
“Don’t blame it on not having a mirror. You just don’t know how to shave.”
Journey's End Page 4
