Wagon Train Sweetheart (Journey West 2)
Page 20
“Rachel and Abby are taking care of supper. You can take a few minutes to say hello…”
And he abandoned her to Tristan McCullough’s company.
“What…?” She could only splutter, uncomfortably aware of the man beside her.
“He wanted to give us a few moments of privacy.” Tristan’s voice was pleasant, with just a hint of a brogue.
She swallowed hard.
If Tristan was right, her brother couldn’t have been more obvious in his approval of the courtship.
The courtship she didn’t want.
The man at her side—an inch or so shorter than Nathan—looked down at her and smiled, a wide spread of his lips that revealed white teeth in straight rows.
Her own teeth chattered as she glanced down, not even attempting to return the friendly expression.
Nathan hadn’t smiled at her when they’d first made acquaintance. It had taken him days to warm up to her.
And even in the beginning when he’d tried his hardest to push her away, she’d never felt this uncomfortable with him.
And it was uncomfortable, knowing Tristan had expectations of her. Courtship! She wasn’t ready.
“You’re surprised to see me,” he said in a gentle voice, no doubt in an attempt to put her at ease.
It had the opposite effect. Nathan had been gruff.
Her upbringing made it impossible for her to be rude, so she flicked a glance upward and saw his eyes on her. Her face flamed and she cast her eyes back down.
“I— That is, we just returned to camp.” The excuse felt as feeble as it sounded, but it was the best she could come up with. “It has been a harrowing two days.” In some ways. In others, the best of her life.
“Did that man—was it Reed? Did he act inappropriately?”
His tone had changed from warm and friendly to something dangerous and cold, and her startled glance flew to his face.
“No!” she cried. “Nathan was a perfect gentleman.”
His eyes narrowed slightly and she realized she had used Nathan’s given name. She worked to lower her voice, not wanting to give him any reason to be suspicious of Nathan, as many in the wagon train were.
“Sam—the little boy was worse off than expected. And we saw Indians as we traveled this morning.”
Her rushed words had the effect she had hoped in distracting him.
“How many?”
“About a dozen. They didn’t follow us, but it was frightening.”
“I’m sure it was. I’m exceedingly glad that Nathan returned you safely to us.”
She averted her eyes. She had the feeling that he saw too much. His obvious interest made her uncomfortable, but she also didn’t want him to be suspicious of Nathan. Stillwell’s agenda against Nathan was enough.
They stood in silence for moments that stretched far too long for Emma’s taste. She could see Rachel and Abby just beyond them, in the circle of firelight just past where she stood with Tristan, heads bent together as they worked over the fire.
She desperately wanted to be over there with them.
He sighed. “You’re as beautiful as your brother said.”
Heat flamed in her face and she couldn’t look up at him. He didn’t sound terribly happy about the statement.
“I suppose it is forward of me to say so, but my whole purpose in coming to meet you was to determine if we’d be a match.”
She gasped softly, really more of an inhale. She’d known that Tristan waited in the Oregon Territory, but since Nathan had come into her life, she’d pushed her brothers’ plans to the back of her mind.
She didn’t want to marry Tristan. She couldn’t look at him.
“My daughters need a mama.”
She heard the hard edge beneath the simple statement. “I love my little girls. I’m not looking for a love match for myself. My wife…”
He swallowed audibly, holding back more that must’ve been painful for him. The moment of vulnerability softened the outright rejection that she wanted to give.
She and Rachel had both wanted for a mama, after their mother had died. She knew how those little girls must miss their mama, how much love they needed.
Her hesitation must have encouraged him, because he cleared his throat and went on. “Grayson and Ben both told me you’d be shy. I’d like to spend as much time together as we can, before we reach Oregon City, but I think it’ll just confirm what I’m already discovering. You’ll be a fine mother for the girls.”
Anything she might’ve said to refute his words was lost as he ushered her forward into the circle of firelight where Rachel and Abby exclaimed over her.
She could barely find words to tell them about Sam, about Nathan’s daring rescue of Ariella, of the Indians and danger.
She was numb. Completely numb.
It sounded as if Tristan had already decided to marry her, and expected her to go along with it.
And if Ben and Grayson already agreed, as well, they would encourage—push—her at the handsome sheriff.
When she wanted something else entirely.
Emma had never stood up to her brothers, never asked for what she wanted. They didn’t even know she hadn’t wanted to come West.
If she didn’t stand up for herself now, would she end up married to Tristan when they reached their new home?
* * *
Nathan stood just outside the circle of firelight, heart heavy.
He carried a packet of venison from the Davies family, who had been uncertain of his help at first but readily accepted it as he helped them skin and butcher the animal.
Had he really thought that bringing this to Emma like a gift would earn her affections?
She sat next to McCullough on a fallen log someone had dragged into the campsite. McCullough spoke earnestly to her, and although Emma’s face was turned down, Nathan could see she was listening.
Was he too late already? Was Emma already lost to him?
McCullough laughed, his face transformed with a freely given smile. He was handsome. Emma would notice—she noticed everything.
And what Nathan had shown her many times before was his rough attitude, the chip on his shoulder, the fact that he had a difficult time trusting people.
If she put him side by side with McCullough there was no contest. Nathan would lose.
“Mr. Nathan! I heard you was back. Can we please finish the book? I figure we got two more nights, maybe three at the most…”
Nathan looked down to see Georgie’s earnest face. For weeks, Nathan had purposely stayed away from the campsite in hopes of distancing himself from Emma, but during that time the boy had become a fixture, sticking close to Emma and her family.
If Nathan had hoped to sneak away and lick his wounds over Emma, that hope was crushed by the kid’s exclamations. But he found he was happy to see the boy. He’d been worrying—a bit—about Georgie in his uncle’s care and now he could check up on him.
All heads turned toward Nathan as heat enveloped his face and neck. He stepped into the circle when he really wanted to sneak off in the darkness.
He handed the parcel to the closest woman, Ben’s fiancée, with a muttered, “Some venison steaks.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and stood awkwardly, unsure whether he should sit or leave.
“Where’d you get it?”
Ben’s question was conversational, but Nathan knew he could be casually fishing for information. Seeing if Nathan was causing trouble. While Tristan was welcomed into the family.
It stung.
But he forced his voice to a normal, if not upbeat, tone. “Helped butcher the stag and they gave it to me as thanks.”
He felt Emma’s eyes on him and looked at her. She smiled tentatively at him, and his heart punched.r />
Was it possible things weren’t over between them?
His eyes flicked to the man at her side. McCullough watched him with an inscrutable gaze. Nathan nodded at the other man.
“Mr. Nathan’s gonna read to us,” Georgie announced. And then seemed to realize the almost palpable tension among the adults. “If…if that’s all right,” he faltered.
Nathan put a hand on the kid’s shoulder. He hadn’t actually agreed to read, but he didn’t want the kid upset, either. Georgie had been a friend to Nathan when no one else had wanted to.
“Of course it’s all right,” Emma said, standing and sweeping her hands down her skirt. “I’ll get the book.”
Was it Nathan’s imagination, or were her words tinged with relief?
Georgie gave a whoop and then a piercing whistle and several more kids ducked into the circle of firelight, some wearing sheepish grins.
“We been waiting for ya to get back, Mr. Nathan.”
He couldn’t help but laugh as three or four of the children came right up to him, one pulling on his sleeve in excitement.
Maybe the making friends part wouldn’t be as difficult as he’d thought.
He sat cross-legged on the ground with the kids crowded around him, Georgie close at his side.
“Here we are.” Emma carried the book tucked between one elbow and her side. In one hand she carried a candle, while the other hand was cupped around the sputtering flame.
Nathan expected her to deliver both to him and return to McCullough’s side, but was pleasantly surprised when she sat close beside him and smoothed her skirts. Georgie was too big to sit in her lap, but he sat at her knee with the other children gathered around.
He opened the book under the watchful gazes of Emma’s siblings and her suitor and started reading.
Her elbow brushed his knee as she held the candle where he would have light enough to read and he lost his place, had to clear his throat before he could start reading again.
This. This was what he wanted. Emma at his side. A passel of children, whether they were helping orphans like Emma’s dream or it was their own children, that part didn’t matter.
But how could he prove his worth when everything he did would be held up against the golden boy McCullough?
Nathan would never measure up, no matter how desperately he was falling in love with Emma.
Chapter Nineteen
“Good job.” Nathan cleared his throat after saying the rusty, unfamiliar words.
The young man at his side looked up, lowering the rifle still smoking from the muzzle where he’d just shot it.
“I hit the pheasant?” the teenager asked incredulously.
“Yep. Let’s go get it.”
Four days after they’d returned to the company, four days after Tristan McCullough’s arrival, and he’d barely seen Emma. But instead of sulking and keeping to Clara’s company, Nathan had branched out, reaching out to some of the other travelers.
Nathan and the boy traipsed through the dry grasses to the pheasant he’d felled. The Blue Mountains were almost close enough to touch. They would begin the ascent tomorrow, and the wagon master had given them the afternoon to rest for this arduous portion of their journey.
“Your ma will be happy to have some fresh meat tonight.”
The boy looked at him sideways. He carried the gun the way Nathan had shown him earlier, barrel pointed to the ground.
“Will you show me how to skin it for her?”
Nathan nodded.
The idea of helping the boy—and getting out of camp—brought welcome relief.
Nathan had overheard McCullough asking Emma to go walking with him and Nathan had needed an escape.
For the past four days, it seemed every time he turned around, McCullough was beside her. Emma was too kind to tell him to leave off, but Nathan remembered the woman who had fiercely told him she would never give up.
If Emma would have been motivated enough, she would have gotten rid of McCullough.
Which must mean she wanted him around.
This morning, when one of the children he recognized from their readings had found him, dragging along her older brother, Nathan had been relieved for the distraction.
Word had gotten out among a few families that he’d helped butcher that deer and this boy hadn’t had meat for his family in weeks. But instead of offering to go out and get some, Nathan had heard himself volunteering to teach the boy how.
No doubt that was more of Emma’s influence.
But he also felt proud that he’d helped a family in need, that this young man would be able to continue helping his family eat.
It was a small sense of accomplishment, but it was something for a man who’d spent so many years pushing folks away.
He might become a man Emma would be proud to be with, but he didn’t kid himself.
Many of the folks still harbored suspicions about him. Stillwell could be overheard muttering about Nathan, though Nathan worked to let the suspicions roll off his back.
Maybe he would never win over everyone. He would settle for Emma, but the longer McCullough stuck around the less likely that seemed.
“Thanks again, Mr. Reed,” the young man said as they neared the circled wagons.
“Sure, kid.”
He hesitated. He didn’t want to go back to the Hewitts’ campsite and see Emma with McCullough. But clouds massed on the horizon, possibly indicating a gathering storm. He didn’t want to wander away from camp if the weather was going to worsen.
He didn’t have to. He heard a female voice calling his name and ducked through two wagons to find chaos—more than normal—inside the circle of wagons.
A frantic Emma was arm in arm with Rachel and looking for him, apparent by the calling of his name.
“What’s the matter?” He waved them over and Emma’s relief was the only thing he could see.
Hooves thundered up outside the wagons. He couldn’t make out the rider.
“There’s a little girl gone missing,” Emma said, letting go of Rachel to grip his hand.
He was aware of Rachel’s curious gaze, but couldn’t bear to let go of Emma, not when she’d reached for him.
“The men are mounting a search party. Her mama thinks she wandered off.”
“Do you think you can track her?” The strident male voice from behind made Nathan turn, and Emma dropped his hand at the same moment.
McCullough.
“How old is she?” Nathan directed the question at both the man and Emma.
“Three years.” Emma’s voice held a trace of tears and Nathan wanted to clasp her to him, but didn’t dare with her suitor and her sister looking on.
“Have the men already left?” Nathan asked.
“Yes,” McCullough said. “Emma insisted on looking for you, said you’re an expert tracker.”
Hg shrugged off her praise, thought it heated him from the inside out.
“It’s likely they’ve trampled any sign of her.”
McCullough frowned. “I thought the same. What if we ride out and then circle back, maybe you could catch some sign of her that way.”
It was worth a shot, but… “I don’t have a horse,” Nathan admitted, hating showing weakness to the man who was challenging him for Emma’s heart.
If McCullough was surprised, he didn’t show it.
Thunder rumbled and he felt Emma go still beside him.
McCullough didn’t seem to notice her distress. “We can ride double. It isn’t ideal, but it’ll serve the purpose.”
“Can we talk to the girl’s ma?” Nathan asked.
* * *
Emma trailed behind the two men as they strode around the edge of the camp to the mother who had lost her little girl. All the while the
gathering storm grew closer and more threatening.
Every roll of thunder in the distance made Emma jump.
“She was playing hide-and-seek with her older brother and some friends from a nearby wagon. They didn’t tell me she was missing because they were afraid I would be angry—”
The mother broke into sobs. Rachel moved to comfort her and the two men exchanged glances.
“We can’t waste any more time,” Tristan said.
He didn’t seem to register Emma’s unease at all, while Nathan hesitated at her elbow.
“I know it is dangerous for her to be out in the storm,” she said, raising her chin.
“It’ll erase any tracks she might’ve left,” came his quiet, steady response.
She knew that. But it didn’t erase her worry for the man.
She wanted to reach for him, but was aware of Tristan’s close proximity. She still hadn’t found the courage to tell him she didn’t want to marry him.
When they were alone, on the walks he often asked her to take after the wagons had settled for the evening, he told her about his girls. It was obvious from his manner that he loved them very much. And if she hadn’t met Nathan, she might’ve accepted a marriage where three little girls came first.
Was it selfish to want to be loved for herself?
She followed the two men, leaving Rachel with the distraught mother.
“Please be careful.” Her words could’ve been for both of them, but it was Nathan’s dark gaze she held for a moment too long.
The men mounted up and rode out, beneath the sky that grew heavy with clouds.
Emma watched them, a prayer on her lips.
She sensed when Rachel joined her, standing just behind her elbow. “You’re in love with him.”
The softly spoken words startled Emma out of her trancelike stare after the departing horse.
She attempted to keep her face expressionless, but the fear and emotion overwhelming her made her lips tremble.
“With Nathan Reed,” Rachel continued.
And Emma was tired of pretending. Tired of being the quiet sister, the one who never made waves. Tired of not standing up for the man she loved.
“Yes, I am,” she said calmly. She wasn’t ashamed of it.