Trail of Destiny (Hot on the Trail Book 5)

by Merry Farmer

  Except that Jarvis’s chest was a perfect construction of muscle and sinew, skin that looked as though it would be warm to touch, and just enough hair to prove he was a man. He certainly was a man. And she certainly was a woman. She was a woman who knew what it was like to be held, flesh to flesh, by a man alive with ardent affection. She remembered the feeling of lying on her back with her arms and legs wrapped around Harry as they explored their passions. Every part of her overheated body wanted to feel those sensations again, to feel them with Jarvis.

  It was utter, shameless madness.

  “Mrs. Porter? Would you be so kind as to bring me a drink?” One of Jarvis’s men called out to her as he worked.

  “Yes, Mr. Unger.” She forced herself to put on a smile and carry the water bucket over to the man.

  Mr. Unger had taken his shirt off too, but his bare chest inspired none of the wanton passion that Jarvis’s did, just a few feet away. She looked at Mr. Unger as he drank from the dipper and saw a strong, middle-aged man who had known hard work and sun. When her eyes slipped over to take in Jarvis, she saw herself spread out on sheets damp with sweat, writhing with desire as his naked body covered hers.

  She cleared her throat and began her retreat to the wagon.

  “I’d like some too,” Jarvis stopped her.

  “I just gave you some,” she said, turning back to him, unable to look at him.

  “I’d like a little more.”

  There was nothing she could do but buck up and meet his eyes. Smiling, teasing eyes that knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling. She swallowed and squared her shoulders, and took the bucket and dipper over to him.

  Jarvis lifted the dipper to his lips, his eyes glued to hers, and drank. The long, slow undulation of this throat as he swallowed made Alice’s knees weak. Her eyes dropped from his to the dark pink of his lips around the dipper. She wondered what those lips would feel like in other wet places.

  “Thank you,” he said, his voice low and sultry as he slipped the dipper back into the bucket.

  “Have you had enough? Can I go back to work now?” Her attempt at saltiness failed miserably as her voice quivered.

  “I could never have enough of you,” he said.

  Dangerous swirls spread through her, coalescing in her core. It was bad. It was very, very bad. She was no blushing virgin, and that was precisely the problem.

  “You’d better get back to work,” she advised him, turning and marching away as fast as she could on legs that felt like butter.

  He had to know what he was doing. She reached the wagon with a frown. Kind and noble as he was, Jarvis had to know he was tempting her in a way that ladies should never be tempted. So why did the thought that he was leading her astray fill her with such sultry butterflies? She glanced over her shoulder at him, intending to frown her disapproval.

  Jarvis had turned away. He was bent over a section of fence, helping one of the other men fit the joint. His broad, muscled back shone with sweat in the sunlight. When he bent over, his firm backside stretched against his trousers.

  “Keeping an eye on the progress, I see.”

  Howard’s booming voice shocked Alice out of her wicked observations. She gasped and spun to find Howard striding toward her. She hadn’t even seen him coming.

  “I’m here to provide refreshments,” she explained. She winced over how feeble she sounded.

  “Father!”

  Franklin noticed his father’s arrival and climbed down from his crate at last. He scurried across the uneven grass to where Howard and Alice stood. Howard let slip an impatient hum.

  “Father, the men won’t listen to me,” Franklin complained as soon as he was within three yards. “They took off their shirts when I told them not to, for Alice’s sake, and they are ignoring me when I tell them how they should be laying the fence.”

  “Is that so?” Howard met his son’s eyes for a moment, then glanced around at the men working. “They seem to be doing just fine to me.”

  As Howard surveyed the men, Alice did too. Of course, that meant that her eyes landed square on Jarvis’s bare torso as he pushed on with his work. He was far stronger than he seemed under a linen shirt.

  “Jake especially should listen to me,” Franklin went on.

  “Why?” Howard asked. “He’s the foreman of this crew. You’re not even on it.”

  Franklin sputtered in irritation. “Yes, but we employ him.”

  “I employ him, son,” Howard corrected him, then pushed on to, “If you’re so concerned, why don’t you go to work with them?”

  “I… I didn’t bring the right clothes,” Franklin fumbled for excuses. “I couldn’t work like this. My hands would get splinters. I don’t want to ruin my shoes. Oh, and besides, there’s a rule about not allowing substitutions once the teams have been chosen.”

  Howard snorted. “I don’t think your aunt would mind. What do you think, Alice?”

  Alice chewed her lip, wondering what Jarvis’s chest would feel like if she ran her hands across those firm muscles.

  “Alice?”

  She wondered what his skin would taste like.

  “Attention, Alice.”

  Howard’s near-shout snapped her to attention.

  “Yes? What?” Her face flushed hot at being discovered ogling Jarvis.

  Howard only smiled—the smile of someone who knew what he’d interrupted.

  “I was going to ask what you thought of Franklin joining one of the work crews, but perhaps you and I should take the wagon back to the house to restock the supplies instead.”

  “I restocked right after lunch. We should be good until—”

  “I think you and I should take a ride.”

  She couldn’t have gotten the message any more clearly if her father had stood there with his hands behind his back and a scolding look in his eyes.

  “If you think so.” She answered with lowered eyes, just as she would to her father.

  “Franklin, you’re in charge of the water for the rest of the afternoon.” Howard reached into the wagon bed for the water bucket and dipper, and handed them to his son.

  “Really, Father. Water? Me?” Franklin balked.

  “Yes, son, you.”

  That was all Howard was willing to hear on the subject. Franklin was forced to take the bucket or let it fall to the ground. Howard motioned for Alice to follow him to the front of the wagon. He helped her up into the driver’s seat, then heaved himself up after her, taking the reins. Franklin might have been averse to work, but Howard took hold of the wagon as though driving on simple errands was second nature.

  When they were out of earshot of the workers, Howard said, “I saw the way you were looking at that young man just now.”

  “I wasn’t—” With a sigh, Alice decided that there was no point in denying it. “He’s a handsome man with a fine physique.”

  Howard chuckled. “It’s been ages since a woman has been able to say that about me. You should have seen me when Elizabeth and I first met, though. I was just as much of a young, strapping lad as your Jarvis.”

  “He’s not my Jarvis,” Alice admitted.

  “No? You could have fooled me.”

  Howard was in such good spirits, his smile so wide, that Alice couldn’t help but smile along with him.

  “We only met a very short time ago, at Ft. Bridger,” she explained. “I don’t think that’s enough time for anyone to claim ownership of someone else, body or soul.”

  “So you’d think,” Howard said, steering the wagon around the edge of his herd of cattle. “The funny thing about love is that it doesn’t listen to reason.”

  “Who said anything about love?” Alice lowered her voice and worried at a spot on her skirt.

  “Hmm.” Evidently, Howard didn’t agree with her.

  “I loved once,” she went on. “It was beautiful and wonderful. This doesn’t feel like that.”

  “Of course not,” Howard snorted. “Love is like clouds. They’re never the same and the
y change constantly.”

  “Yes, but clouds don’t hurt when they die,” she replied before she could think better of it. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I shouldn’t bring up these sorts of things.” And yet, Howard was as easy and comforting to talk to as her father.

  “Of course you should, my dear,” he said with a father’s compassion. “What are old folks like us good for if not giving advice to the young and brash?”

  They exchanged a warm smile. Alice relaxed against her seat.

  “Clouds do hurt from time to time,” Howard went on. “Ever heard of lightning?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Well, it comes from the clouds. But that doesn’t mean you should stay indoors day and night, denying yourself the pleasures of a sunny day for fear that the clouds will roll in.” He paused, shifted in his seat, then said, “I think I mixed my metaphors there, but I hope the point made it across in one piece.”

  “Oh, it did,” Alice assured him. “I’m just not sure it’s worth the risk to go out in the rain.”

  Howard chuckled at her attempt to stick with his metaphors. Then he sighed.

  “I love my dear Elizabeth more than the sun and moon and stars combined,” he confessed in a subdued voice. “My Lucy too. Not a day goes by when I don’t miss them terribly. But Elizabeth doesn’t like the frontier, and I’m not willing to live cooped up in a city back East. It doesn’t mean I don’t wrack my brain on a daily basis to think of ways to win her back.”

  “Do you write to her?”

  He didn’t answer right away. In fact, he huffed and sat straighter. “I used to. She was slow to reply.”

  Alice arched an eyebrow. “So you’re advising me to love again while refusing to listen to the voice of love in your own heart?”

  She meant to be teasing, but Howard sagged. “That’s none of your business,” he blustered, but then added. “I should write, shouldn’t I?”

  “I think you should.”

  His smile returned and he glanced to her as he drove the wagon on. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll write to Elizabeth if you let yourself consider the idea of a certain handsome militiaman. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds like a trick,” Alice said. Even so, her heart longed to accept the challenge. Once again, the image of Jarvis shirtless and the temptation of falling into his arms swept through her.

  “Trick or not, it will bring both of us happiness,” Howard said. “At least, we’ll each be happy for each other.”

  Alice smiled. “I suppose that’s something.”

  She wasn’t willing to make any promises. She still couldn’t shake the idea that to open herself to Jarvis meant turning her back on Harry. But at least when it came to Howard, she’d found a friend.

  By the time both fence-building crews quit for the day, Jarvis was not only hot, he was restless. Alice hadn’t come back from her jaunt with Howard. Without her standing by, peeping at him, building the fence just seemed like work. He was as tired of it as the next man by the time he wandered into Ginny’s house for supper.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked as soon as she spotted his glum, distracted mood. “You get a splinter or something?”

  He huffed a weak laugh. “I’ve had so many splinters today that I think my hands are made of wood now.”

  Ginny laughed and slapped him on the back, leading him into the dining room. The table was only set for two.

  “Isn’t the rest of the crew eating with us?” Jarvis asked as soon as he saw.

  “They like to eat out in their bunk,” she explained. “Besides, I want to talk to you.”

  Her tone gave him the same sense of dread that his father’s had when he used to ask young Jarvis to join him in the study. As soon as they were seated and her cook served them, she got down to business.

  “John Bryant came in here after lunch when he was back at the barn picking up supplies,” she began. “He told me a funny little story about how you and Alice were flirting up a storm.”

  “He did, did he?” Jarvis hadn’t thought they’d been that obvious.

  “He did. I’ve seen the two of you together myself,” Ginny said. “You make a handsome pair. So tell me, why aren’t the two of you wearing rings and pledging your undying love to each other?”

  “She’s a widow,” Jarvis explained, spreading his hands in defeat. “She says she’s not ready to move on yet.”

  “Not ready or afraid to?”

  It was a shock to hear someone agreeing with his assessment of the situation, enough to put a smile on his face.

  The smile quickly faded. “What am I supposed to do? If I push her, I’ll lose her.”

  Ginny leaned back and regarded him like a prize bull. “My, my. What a rare thing it is to see a man who understands the ways of a woman’s heart.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Not enough, I’m afraid.”

  “Well, you’re better than most men I’ve come across. My darling Cyrus, for example. I loved the man to a fault, but we were both young and stupid. He’d stomp all over my feelings by telling me the way I rode my horse was wrong or the way I wanted to decorate was too frilly. Half the time he just didn’t understand that being in love with someone didn’t mean they agreed with everything you thought every second of the day.”

  She chuckled and stabbed at her roasted vegetables.

  “Boy, the fights we used to have were legendary. The ways we made up were legendary too.”

  She sent him a saucy grin. If Alice ever grinned at him like that, he’d be long gone.

  Ginny grew suddenly wistful. “Cyrus died too soon. Much too soon. I mourned him something fierce. Losing him took the joy right out of me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jarvis reached his hand across the table to lay it over hers. “What did you do?”

  “I fell apart,” she confessed without shame. “I wallowed in self-pity. I fell into a hole and was tempted to call it my grave. Then, one day, I woke up and realized I had a ranch to run and a life to live.”

  “How long did it take?”

  She smiled at him like she had nuggets of wisdom that he wouldn’t understand, even if she spent all day explaining.

  “It took me weeks and months and years. I was better in no time, and then I was worse. Some days it feels like Cyrus was never a part of my life, and some days it still feels like he’s here. You can never tell how you’ll react when you lose someone. But I’ve watched that fine young woman of yours, and what I think she needs more than anything is you.”

  He grinned and shook his head. “I tend to agree, but try telling her that.”

  Ginny paused to stare at him.

  “Do you love her?” she asked at length.

  Jarvis thought about it. Every argument Alice had ever made rushed around him. They hardly knew each other. She was in mourning. He had his duty to the militia to consider too.

  None of it mattered.

  “Yes, I do love her. And what’s more, I’m convinced she loves me too.”

  “Good.” Ginny nodded. “That’s more than enough to get started with.”

  “Get started doing what?”

  “Helping her to see that losing a man you loved isn’t grounds for losing yourself along with him.”

  “I like the way you think,” he said.

  The restless tension he’d carried with him all afternoon drained away, and he focused on the delicious meal in front of him. A gentle voice at the back of his head told him that this must be what having a mother was like. If he could choose anyone to replace the mother he’d lost as she brought him into the world, it would be Ginny.

  “You’ve got to be patient, though,” Ginny went on, fitting the role Jarvis wanted to give her. The look in her eyes was far-away and calculating, as if she was hatching some idea, just like a mother should. “Patient and gentle.”

  “I try to be,” Jarvis agreed.

  “On the other hand, you’ve got to know when to grasp at an opportunity,” Ginny went on. “If she gives you the
chance to show her how much you love her, you have to be ready to take it.”

  “I’d like to think I will be,” he answered.

  “Even if it means doing something you might not do in mixed company?” Her eyes glittered with mischief.

  It was contagious. Jarvis grinned from ear to ear. On second thought, he doubted his own mother would have been so bold. “What did you have in mind?”

  Ginny leaned toward him and whispered as though they were in a crowd and she didn’t want to be overheard. “That young woman is ripe for kissing. If you find yourself in a spot where you can kiss her, you should.”

  Jarvis’s face filled with heat. “I might have already done that.”

  Ginny straightened, her eyebrows rising to her hairline. “You have, have you?”

  “Yep,” he answered with a bashful glance to his plate.

  “I see. This might call for something a little more drastic, then.”

  “More drastic than kissing?”

  She met his eyes. They were the eyes of a woman who knew a thing or two about life and love, that was certain. And she wasn’t afraid to use what she knew.

  “Son,” she said at last. “You might have to let me get involved in this one.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  There was less enthusiasm in the air as the second day of fence-building began. Only a quarter of a mile of the miles-long disputed border between the two properties had been covered on the first day, and as the men on both sides realized the competition would stretch on for days, they began to grumble. Alice could hear the complaints on both sides from her wagon of refreshments between the two crews.

  “I have repairs to make to the barn roof,” one of Ginny’s men said as he lugged freshly-split rails across the stream to Ginny’s fence. “If it rains before we finish this thing, some real damage could be done.”

  “You think you’ve got worries,” one of Howard’s men told him as they crossed paths, “I’ve got two heifers that are about to calf. If either one of them goes without me, there could be trouble.”