Joy sang in her heart. She like the thought that he had been concerned for her comfort. "When, can I see the gowns?"
"They will be delivered tomorrow."
Breanna laid her cheek against his chest, listening to the drumming of his heart. How deeply she loved this man, and how tightly she wanted to hold on to him. But she had the feeling no woman could hold on to Dakota. He was restless. And he was fighting a battle of his own somewhere in his mind. Until he won that battle, no one would get close to him.
"Go to sleep," he whispered. "There are not too many more days that you can enjoy a comfortable bed."
"I want to sleep under the stars and listen to the sound of the coyote" she said fancifully.
He smiled against her face. "Who has been filling your head with such whimsical ideas?"
"Levi."
"Yes, I thought so. I'd be willing to bet that he failed to tell you that a bedroll is lumpy and hard, and those coyotes can keep you awake all night with their mating call."
"Mating call?"
"Yes" he murmured against her ear. "Yes, mating call, like my heart is calling to you at this moment."
She knew deep inside that the soft words he whispered to her tonight would disappear with the appearance of the morning sun, and he would again become the cold indifferent stranger. She asked herself why she allowed him to take her body and give so little of himself in return. Because, fool, she answered herself, you love him with your heart and soul, and you will take anything he has to offer.
Breanna felt the blood run hot through her body as his hands once again awoke a need in her that he would soon satisfy.
She forgot that Dakota had neglected her all day. All she could think about was his tongue teasing her naked breasts, and his hands touching her where it brought the most pleasure.
"Dakota," she said in a throaty voice. "I want to talk to you. I have questio —"
"No talk," he murmured against her lips, silencing her voice in the most sensuous way
She clung to him, knowing at this moment he belonged to her alone. Tomorrow she would lose him again, but that was tomorrow, and this was now.
29
Although it was late October, the weather was unseasonably hot. Those who professed to know, the tillers of soil and the trappers from the mountains, predicted the warm weather would continue.
Breanna, John, and Levi made their way through the dusty streets of Indianapolis to the hotel. Dakota had left them as soon as the train had pulled into the station, saying he would join them later.
By now, Breanna was growing accustomed to Dakota's silent brooding, but it took much of the joy away from her adventure. She glanced around at the frontier town, feeling the excitement that charged the air. As John helped her from the buggy that had transported them from the train depot, she stepped onto the plank walkway in front of the hotel.
Instead of going in, John took Breanna's arm. "That sign on the shop down the street says they have tea. Suppose we have a cup before getting settled into the hotel? I haven't had a decent cup of tea since we left London."
Breanna nodded. "I could use a cup of tea just now. Levi, would you like to come with us?"
“Not me. As you know, I don't care for your tea. I'll just make arrangements for our rooms and wait for Dakota."
The tea turned out to be bitter and too strong, but Breanna savored every drop. She and John were seated by the window, watching the local population going about their daily lives.
"I have yet to see my first Indian," she said, watching a young woman, not much older than herself, scurrying by and trying to keep her seven children in line.
John, with his elbows propped on the table, rested his chin on his clasped hands. "I cannot imagine why you would want to."
"Perhaps I am fascinated by the Arapaho, since Dakota was raised by that tribe."
"As I see it, you will be a lot better off if we pass this trek without meeting any Indians. I don't favor having my scalp lifted."
Breanna glanced up at that moment and saw Dakota enter the shop; his face was a mask of fury. He must have seen her and John through the window, but why was he mad? she wondered.
John continued to express his views on the Indians, unaware that Dakota stood just behind him. "I have little doubt that the Indian has no love for us either."
Dakota spoke up. "Most Indians would be right in their disregard for the white man, for they have lied to them and betrayed them." Dakota's eyes bored into John's, making his comment personal.
Unaware of the cause of Dakota's anger, Breanna stood up, placing her hand on his arm. "John has just been warning me about the perils we may face with the Indians . . ." Her voice trailed off. "You would know more about that than . . ." She felt the arm beneath her fingers tense and harden. She could feel anger between Dakota and John, but she did not know the reason for it.
Dakota's emerald eyes glinted. "Was he? I am not aware that John is an expert on Indians."
John's hands balled into fists. "I am forced to bow to your superior, firsthand knowledge of the savages."
Tension filled the air like the crack of electricity. Breanna was stunned into silence as Dakota took her arm and pulled her out of the shop. She was embarrassed for herself and embarrassed that Dakota would treat John with such rudeness.
When they were outside, Dakota turned turbulent green eyes on her, and she shrank from him.
"I will not have you flaunt yourself in front of my cousin, Breanna. An Indian wife would never act with such total disregard for her husband's honor."
Breanna's temper smoldered. "Nothing I have done would besmirch your honor," she returned, her tone even. "First of all, as you have pointed out on numerous occasions, I am not an Indian. Secondly, I was not flaunting myself, as you so rudely put it. And thirdly—”
His hand closed over her shoulders, and he led her toward the hotel. "It was a mistake to allow you to come along. If I had the means, I would send you back to England today"
"I will not go," she declared, her breasts heaving and her curly mane swirling about her like shimmering gold. She jerked her hand free of his, unmindful of the curious stares they received from the passersby.
Breanna was soon to discover that Dakota had once again placed them in separate rooms. Today she had been angry and humiliated, but most of all she had been hurt by Dakota's coldness and false accusations. She wondered where this would all end.
***
Nature was lavish with her foliage as giant trees dipped their branches into the mirror-bright Missouri River. The cable-drawn barge that was taking them across the river was loaded with horses, pack animals, men, and supplies.
Dakota had hired two other men to accompany them. Since Breanna was along, he didn't want to take any chances with her safety.
With some unknown herbal plant scenting the hot breeze that touched her face, Breanna closed her eyes, wanting to remember this moment always. This was America as she had imagined it —a primitive wilderness with trees that were too dense to hack your way through—a lovely land which was a vast incubator for the wildlife it supported.
Breanna was dressed in the clothing that Dakota had purchased for her. Levi had told her that Dakota's mother had worn similar apparel. It was made of black broadcloth, and although it was divided, it was so full that it fell together to resemble a skirt. She could hardly wait to ride astride a horse like a man. Even though it might be unconventional, no one here would mind.
She tried to visualize how Cillia Remington must have felt as she accompanied her husband to this wild and beautiful land. Had she gazed on the same landscape and felt the exultation of the warm sun on her face?
Breanna's eyes moved to her husband, who had stripped off his coat and was rolling up his sleeves. She watched how the muscles rippled across his back and the way the wind feathered through his dark hair, which now almost reached his shoulders. She was aware that she was slowly, bit by bit, losing him. The farther they got from civilization, the more he re
treated within himself.
Breanna glanced at Baxley, noting the eagerness in his eyes. The valet was in his element, she thought. Her eyes moved on to John, who was swatting at a persistent fly that was pestering him, and he gave Breanna a glance that clearly asked: What am I doing here?
She was aware that John and Dakota were still angry with one another, but she didn't know what to do about the situation or what had set it off.
Luther, one of the Americans Dakota had hired, was a huge man with coffee-colored hair, who always seemed to be smiling. The other man was named Inman and was slender. A startling thing about him was that one of his eyes was blue, while the other one was brown.
Breanna smiled gratefully at Luther as he dusted off a barrel with his neckerchief and offered her a seat. She had found these American men gallant and respectful. They never spoke directly to her, but she would often be the recipient of their kind consideration.
When the barge bumped against the opposite shore, John helped Breanna up the bank. "I want to talk to you alone," he whispered.
She glanced quickly into his eyes. "Why alone?"
"I can't talk to you now. Later."
She was curious as to why John would want to see her alone, but she soon dismissed it from her mind, because the sun was warm, the birds were singing, and she was caught up in the loveliness of her surroundings.
Dakota was leading several horses off the barge. He handed Breanna the reins of a buckskin mare. "Is this one mine?" she asked, running her hand over the sleek neck.
"Yes. The care and upkeep of this horse will fall to you. You will be given no special consideration just because you are a woman," he told her pointedly.
She raised her chin, stung by the coldness in his voice. "I have not thus far asked for special consideration, nor do I intend to."
His eyes drifted to the nearby woods, which to the untrained eye seemed impregnable. "See that you don't."
She was hurt and angry that Dakota should treat her in such an overbearing manner. She watched him lead his mount forward, and she yanked on the reins of her horse so she could follow him.
Dakota had never allowed her to feel close to him, but now he had shut her out completely. She must have been a fool to come along on this journey, she thought, fighting against tears. She would show him that she didn't need anyone's help. She would give him no reason to criticize her.
Breanna watched everyone else mount and, for the first time, noticed the hard leather saddle on her own horse. She puzzled for a moment on how to mount the horse.
Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she watched Levi slip his foot into the stirrup and throw his leg over his horse. Drawing in her breath, she likewise poked her boot into the stirrup, but at that moment her horse took it in its head to spin around in a circle, and Breanna had to hold on tightly to the reins to keep from falling off.
Her heart was pounding, and she could see herself being flung beneath the horses' hooves. Knowing that Dakota and the others were probably watching her, she gritted her teeth and forced her leg over the horse's back. When she was firmly planted in the saddle, she gripped the reins and pulled back hard, bringing the prancing mare under her control.
Breanna became aware that she was the center of attention, so she nudged the horse in the flanks with the heel of her boot and rode to the front of the column where Levi waited.
"Good girl," the hunter said under his breath. "You showed that husband of yours,, and I have a feeling before this is over, we will all have learned a thing or two from you. This will be an adventure you will one day tell your grandchildren about."
"I don't know, Levi," she said in a voice that was choked with emotion. "If it becomes too much for me, there is no one to blame but myself. As Dakota is so fond of reminding me, I asked to come along."
"Then why not show him what you are made of."
Breanna smiled at his logic. "Just watch me, Levi. I intend to." She pushed her troubles to the back of her mind, deciding that nothing was going to keep her from enjoying this glorious adventure, not even Dakota.
Her excitement mounted. Tonight would be her first night to sleep under the stars. Of course, they would actually be sleeping in tents, she thought, but that would prove a blessing if it rained.
She noticed Dakota had ridden on ahead, disappearing into the woods. She tried not to think about him, but it was impossible to get him out of her thoughts.
By noon, they had moved away from the river, following a trail that had been beaten into the ground by the iron rims of countless covered wagons on their westward journey, a trail that would remain for centuries to come as a testament to the men and women who had sold their meager belongings and pinned their hopes and dreams on finding a new life in the West. She imagined the fragile women, their eyes bright, their sights on a better life. She almost envied those countless, faceless women who had been allowed to stand by their men through hardship and even death.
She was so lost in thought she had not realized that John had ridden up beside her until he spoke. "It's hard to imagine there is supposed to be a paradise at the end of those wagon ruts, is it not?"
"I assume you are speaking of the Oregon Territory?" she answered.
"Yes, Oregon and California."
"You have to admit these people have courage to set out against almost impossible odds. Levi has told me how their graves litter the prairies."
"If you ask me, it's a lesson in futility. If they feel compelled to take the westward trek, they would be better served going around the Horn."
Levi pulled his wide-brimmed hat lower to shade his eyes. "Most of them don't have the price of a ticket on a sailing ship. They barely have money enough to see them across the wilderness as it is. The westward trek is only beginning. The time will come when there will be a great migration across this country. Then the Indian will have cause to complain in earnest."
Breanna's eyes were big and round. "I can easily imagine what compels a person to want to seek the unknown, to hope for a better life, John."
"I am still wondering why I agreed to come along. I must be losing my mind," John said, shaking his head. I could have gone back to England, or awaited your return in New York."
Levi smiled to himself as he drew in his mount and fell back to ride with Baxley. John talked as if he was bored with life, but the hunter surmised that if danger came, John would be a good man to count on.
Now that they had left civilization behind, John had become increasingly troubled. He knew the reason why Dakota was driving himself so hard, but he wondered if Dakota had considered the danger it would present to Breanna.
John nudged his horse closer to Breanna. "We can talk now, Breanna," he said urgently. "I think you need to turn back. Dakota should never have allowed you to come with him this far, and if he doesn't consider your safety, I must."
She stared at him in surprise. "But why? What do you know that you aren't saying?"
"That's not important," he said evasively, watching her expression. "Just trust me in this, and promise me you will tell Dakota you want to return to England."
"No, I will not do that, John, not unless you give me a good reason."
John sighed. "Isn't it enough to tell you that my reasons are sound?"
"No, not when you are asking me to leave my husband."
"Damn it, Breanna, wake up. Dakota is not here to pass pleasantries with his Arapahos. He has come to kill a man!"
Breanna turned to John, her face ashen. "No, John! Dakota wouldn't . . . he isn't . . . no!"
"I can assure you it's true. I hadn't meant to tell you, but I have to make you listen to reason. I thought before you got this far you would decide to turn back on your own."
"No, what you are saying is unthinkable" she replied in an unconvincing voice. Had Dakota ever killed a man? She couldn't bear to think that the hands that caressed her so tenderly may have committed murder.
"I intend to talk to Dakota about this," she said, gazing up at the sun, whic
h had become unbearably hot. She tied her hat firmly under her chin, feeling the perspiration that ran down her neck, plastering her blouse to her skin. Was it possible that John was right?
30
Night covered the land. The camp had been set up, the tents raised, and still Dakota had not made an appearance. Breanna was just outside the ring of light given off by the camp fire, feeding and watering her horse. Although John and Levi had offered to tend her mare, she had refused their help. She set her jaw firmly as she removed a burr from the mare's tail, only to have the sharp barb stick into her.
Crying out in pain, she found the burr deeply embedded in her finger. She had not heard the silent figure that emerged from the trees just behind her, and she was startled when a hand landed on her shoulder. Spinning around, she saw Dakota. Like a child who has been hurt and needed sympathy, she held her finger out to him.
A soft smile curved his lips as he gently removed the burr and raised her finger to his lips, kissing the wound. "Sweet little girl," he said, pulling her into his arms. "You have a brute for a husband."
She closed her eyes, allowing his soothing hands to move up and down her back.
"I watered and fed my horse," she said. "Of course, Levi did help me with the saddle, it's quite heavy."
He shook with silent laughter. "Oh, Breanna, what am I going to do with you?"
She moved away from him. "Why do you say that? I did not ask for Levi's help."
"No?"
"No."
"Come," he said, leading her toward one of the tents. "You have had a long day."
When they entered the tent, Dakota lit a lantern, and in the warm glow he saw that two cots had been set up, and a buffalo hide had been thrown on the floor. "Baxley is a wonder. He can even make a tent look like home," Dakota observed. His eyes softened as they rested on Breanna's face.
"I want to say something to you, and when I am finished, I hope you will understand about me." He took her hand and seated her on one of the cots. "Not many husbands and wives start their lives together as strangers as you and I have. I understand how difficult this has been for you. I have not always known how to please you, and I admit I have made many mistakes. Now that we are in America, you see me as I really am, with all pretense stripped away. You may not like me this way, but this is who I am."
Dakota Dreams (Historical Romance) Page 28
