by Merry Farmer
“You look beautiful.” He followed her to the fire. “Like an angel.”
“Thank you,” she said. Two beats after the fact, she glanced up at him with a weak smile. “For the coffee.”
That was it. She stepped farther away from him when he came close, putting a barrel between them, blushing wildly.
“You were beautiful last night, too,” he said, choosing to stand where he was instead of chase her all around the camp.
“Oh?” she said over her shoulder, checking the food stores that had been set out and coming up with a piece of leftover cornbread. “It was completely dark last night. I don’t see how you could have seen anything. I didn’t.” She straightened and stared square at him. “Not that there was anything to see.”
Cade’s heart dropped to his stomach like a lump of fool’s gold. “It was dark. You were still beautiful.”
“No, I wasn’t,” she mumbled, and moved to sit on the barrel beside the fire. She didn’t say another word. She didn’t look at him.
Cade drew in a slow breath and let it out in a steady, calming stream, forcing himself to take this one step at a time. This wasn’t at all what he’d expected, and it wasn’t good. Not one bit. He sat on the other barrel, facing her.
“Do I need to apologize for something?” he asked.
“What? No. Not at all,” she answered, blushing even more furiously. She took a huge bite of cornbread.
“Good, because I’m not sorry. Not at all. Lying with you last night was the best—”
“H-have you heard anything more about robberies?” she rushed to silence him. With her mouth full of cornbread, her words were muffled and thick. A few crumbs flew from her mouth and she took a swig of coffee to wash it down.
Cade sat frozen, staring at her, his chest contracting until it felt too small for his thudding, aching heart. She wouldn’t be so cruel as to pretend their time together hadn’t happened, would she?
He shifted on his barrel, cleared his throat, and said, “Lynne, I—”
“We should probably start packing up our things and getting ready to go.” She stood and took another drink of coffee. “Mr. Evans looks like he’s eager to get moving.”
Mouth hanging open, Cade glanced across the circle of wagons. It was true, Pete was already urging people to yoke up their oxen and move their wagons back into a line. He searched in the other direction and found Ben out in the field with several other men, wrangling their oxen.
“I’ll clean up this mess under the wagon if you take care of the supplies and the campfire,” Lynne said.
She ate the last of her cornbread, finished her coffee, and handed him the tin cup before gliding off to the wagon as if nothing had happened.
As if nothing at all had happened.
Cade swallowed hard and rubbed his chest. Mingled with the ache was a fractured sense of helplessness. What had just happened? His tired mind scrambled to find a way to undo the last ten minutes. He washed out her cup and emptied the remaining coffee on the fire, then stamped it out. He then went through the motions of packing up and storing supplies in the wagon, all the while watching Lynne. She moved with purpose, taking down the shelter he’d made for them under the wagon.
He dropped everything when she gasped and rushed around to the side of the wagon.
“What?” he asked. “What is it? Are you all right?”
Lynne stood holding the blanket they’d slept on the night before at arm’s length. A small, rust-colored stain marred the center. Cade’s heart flipped over in his chest. He wasn’t surprised to find out she’d been a virgin last night, but it made his chest squeeze ten times tighter when she wadded up the blanket and marched away from him.
“We’ll have to throw this out and buy a new one,” she said.
That was it. That was all it took. His helpless heartache coiled into something very close to anger. He stomped after her, catching her at the back of the wagon.
“You’re not going to pretend this didn’t happen,” he said, taking the blanket from her.
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“We made love last night, Lynne,” he said, keeping his voice low. “And you’re not going to pretend it didn’t happen or that you didn’t like it.”
“Shh!” She swatted the blanket away from him and turned her back on him, shaking it out. “People will hear you.”
“People?” Cade spread his arms wide, glancing around. “The only people I see are weary travelers and miners and folks that are too busy packing up their wagons to give a fig what you or I did or do.”
She folded the blanket quickly and clumsily, then spun back to thrust it at his chest. “You may not care about your reputation, but I do.”
There was something deeper than anger in her eyes, something darker than worry. The last thing Cade wanted call it was regret. He stepped closer to her.
“So you’re just going forget about it?” he growled. “You’re going to forget how good we are together because of a bunch of people who you’ll never see again once they get to their new homes?”
“I might see them again,” she argued. “Most of them are going on to Oregon, but a good portion are heading to Denver City too. I’ll see you again.” Her eyes flared wide and the color drained from her face. She covered her mouth with one hand for a moment. “Dear God. I’ll see you again. You work for my uncle.”
Her words were like being shot with three bullets, each more painful than the last.
“Is that what you think of me?” He lowered his voice even further and leaned in to her. “That I’m just some man who works for your uncle? That I’m just some man who would lie with a woman without it meaning anything?”
“But you did,” she said. Her eyes swam with tears. “I don’t know what…. I shouldn’t have…. You’re supposed to be protecting me, not… not….” She swallowed and pushed away from him.
Cade tossed the soiled blanket into the back of the wagon, then followed her around to the remnants of their camp. Ben was already at the front of the wagon, yoking up the oxen. There was only so much he could say to salvage the situation now.
“I don’t know what you think men are like,” he whispered as he crouched beside Lynne to pick up one of the last boxes of supplies that needed to be stored, “but I am not the kind who thinks it’s all right to be with just any woman the way we were together last night.”
She huffed as if she would disagree, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she tried to lift one of the barrels they’d sat on to carry it to the wagon. It was too heavy for her, so she let go with a frown, still not meeting his eyes.
“I consider what we did special,” he went on. She needed to hear what he had to say. He needed to say it. “So special that I won’t let it go.”
She faced him, cheeks flushing pink. “But….”
“But?” he barked. He shouldn’t be angry, but he couldn’t help it.
“I can’t face this right now,” she said and walked away.
The last thing that she was able to lift was a half-used sack of flour that had been cleared out of the wagon bed to make room. She winced as she lifted it, but Cade had the uncomfortable feeling that the expression was her attempt to hide tears. He followed her to the back of the wagon.
“You seem mighty concerned with what a bunch of strangers think,” he told her, “but all that really matters is what you think of me.”
She shoved the sack into the wagon bed and dropped her arms, still not facing him.
“So what do you think of me, Lynne?” he asked.
She spun to face him. The emotion in her eyes was so intense that he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her and tell her everything would work out in the end.
“I,” she started. Her eyes focused on something behind his shoulder. “Emma,” she said, sidestepping away from him. “You look very pretty today.”
Cade let out a hard breath and hung his head. His chest ached as though he’d run up the Rockies and back down again. He clench
ed his jaw and resisted the urge to punch the wagon, then turned. Emma Sutton was approaching from several yards away. She wore a dress fit for Sunday and had her hair curled.
“Mother insisted,” she told Lynne, more embarrassed than prideful.
“Well, you look delightful. Such a change from the drudgery of the wagon train,” Lynne said. She met her friend and hooked her arm through Emma’s. “I’ve just about had it with the dullness and boredom of the trail. Do you need someone to walk with you?”
Emma lowered her head, peeking up at Cade briefly, her face flushed. Cade had the impression that as shy as Emma might be, she was a dead accurate judge of character and situations. She knew something was up. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.
“I… I came to ask if you wanted company today, yes,” she murmured.
“Good,” Lynne said with a nod. “Let’s find a nice, open spot to walk.”
Without a goodbye or so much as a backward glance for him, she turned and walked off, leaving Cade feeling as though she’d ripped out his heart and shoved it in her pocket to take with her.
What did she think of him? Cade’s question rattled around Lynne’s brain all through the long day of walking. What did she think of him?
The answer she thought should come to her mind was not the answer that actually did. She should think he was shameless and mercenary and wicked. He had sworn to protect her and then turned around and damaged her forever. He was a blackguard and a scoundrel and her uncle should send him packing as soon as they got to Denver City. She should be thinking all those things.
Instead, all she could think about was the taste of his mouth as it explored hers. He hadn’t tasted like she thought he would, but was warm and wet and heady with a hint of coffee. She thought about his hands, large and slightly calloused. They felt so good touching her, claiming her and pulling passion from the depths of her soul. Even in places where no man but her husband should touch her—especially those places—his touch had been bliss. She thought about the way his hardness had invaded her, the absolute perfection of being filled and tested, the stretch and the friction. She thought about how much more of that she wanted until her cheeks burned red.
“—not sure I want to or even can turn a man’s head like that,” Emma murmured softly at her side as they walked behind the Sutton’s wagon. “But Mother insists, so I must.”
She thought about the entire sensation of lying under Cade’s weight as he moved inside of her, her arms and legs wrapped around him, the feeling that they were one. The urge to weep with longing and with shame poured over her.
“Lynne?”
All this time, she had considered herself brave. Brave to set out west on her own, brave to stand up to Cade when she thought his way was wrong, brave to kiss him and to sleep under the wagon with him.
“Lynne?”
She wasn’t brave at all, she was just bad.
“Lynne, are you all right?”
With a gasp, Lynne popped out of her thoughts and faced her friend. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” Her face burned brighter than if she had been sunburned. She had been burned by other things.
Emma pursed her delicate lips as she studied Lynne. “Are you sure you’re quite well? You looked peaked when we started walking, but now you look positively feverish.”
Lynne did her best to smile and dismiss her friend’s concern. “I’m perfectly well. It must be all the walking. Surely we’ll be stopping soon.”
“I think so,” Emma said, though she didn’t look convinced. “Although I can’t say I’m looking forward to it today. Mother has designs on arranging for Dr. Meyers and I to dine together one of these nights.”
Lynne nodded, even as her mind drifted. She was well aware of Emma’s tender feelings for Dr. Meyers. If only her feelings for Cade were as simple. She wanted him, she had to admit it. Still. In spite of how wrong it was and how shameful. He was so handsome it made her legs weak if she thought about it too deeply. His smile could light the heavens. His tired eyes made her want to kiss and soothe him until he gave up and fell asleep in her arms and woke rested the next day. His body was firm and muscled and perfectly formed. The plain of his abdomen and narrow lines of his waist were delicious. And that male part of him had felt so strange and strong and new when she’d touched it. She wanted to touch him again like that, make him make those sounds that she had felt in her core.
“Lynne?”
How could she so wantonly desire to be ruined again? And what was it Cade had said that morning? That he wanted to make things right? What did that mean? Did he want to push her aside and treat her like his responsibility again? Like they were strangers?
Emma’s hand on her arm startled her out of her thoughts.
“I really think you should lie down,” her friend said, face pinched in worry. “You don’t look well at all. Shall I walk you up to your wagon so you can ride until we stop for lunch?”
“No.” Lynne broke away from her, covering the suddenness of her move with a smile she hoped seemed kind instead of desperate. “No, I’ll be fine walking on my own. Thank you, Emma.”
She charged ahead without another word. She’d been horribly rude to her friend, but what could she have said to her? If Emma knew even a fraction of her thoughts, the gentle young woman would never speak to her again. No one reputable would ever speak to her again. She was twice soiled now, once for succumbing to Cade’s charms, and a thousand times more for wanting, in her heart, to do it all over. And over and over. How could a woman from a good family, who had been raised well, want such things?
It had to be the dangers of the trail. It had to be the pressure she was under because of the threats that had landed her on the journey west in the first place. She had to be as cautious with Cade as she was around the oxen pulling the wagons to avoid the temptations Cade presented. Lying in his arms hadn’t just made her feel alive and on fire, it had made her feel safe.
She was relieved to find Cade riding Arrow several yards ahead of her wagon, beside Mr. Evans and his assistants. It would give her a chance to calm her racing heart and gather her thoughts to decide what to do next. If worst came to worst, she could begin riding beside Ben on the wagon, asking him to protect her in Cade’s place. Ben was only a boy, though.
Her thoughts hadn’t gone far when Cade noticed her and dropped back from the other men. He turned Arrow and rode to where Lynne walked. She did her best to pretend he wasn’t there, but he dismounted and tied Arrow to the wagon beside Clover, then strode to match his pace to hers.
“Pete says we’re going to stop for a spell this afternoon just up ahead where that stand of trees is,” he said. “There’s a fresh stream there, or so his scouts say. It should give everyone a chance to rest. It’s going to be a hot afternoon.”
Lynne nodded. She cursed herself for that, even. She would be better off if she didn’t acknowledge him or the pounding in her chest as he walked so close to her.
She managed a small victory in that she kept silent until they got to the stream. Mr. Evans called for the wagons to stop for the afternoon. Slowly but surely, the long line of wagons and oxen and people ground to a halt. Children laughed and ran away from their parents to let out energy in the fields. Men and women who had been driving the wagons groaned and stretched as they hopped to the ground. A few went through the trouble of unyoking their oxen to give the beasts a chance to eat and drink.
Lynne felt useless amidst all the activity. She could think of nothing to do but head to the back of her wagon to see if she had any work that would distract her while they were stopped. She could cook something. Her cooking skills had improved dramatically on the journey so far.
“I wish you would look at me.” Cade’s voice was soft behind her as she leaned into the wagon bed.
She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the warm, strong presence of his body behind her. All she wanted to do was turn and throw her arms around him, bury her face against his broad shoulder and confess how confused s
he was.
Instead she stiffened her back and tilted her chin up. “I need to get a camp set up and start cooking if we’re hoping to have lunch.”
Cade let out a breath that sounded more than a little exasperated. “Would you please turn and look at me?”
She wouldn’t let him get under her skin any more than he already was. She turned and frowned at him.
One peek at the steady, concerned, frustrated expression in his eyes and she had to look away. She was a terrible person for doing what she’d done.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
She knew she couldn’t. That didn’t stop him from sliding a hand under her chin and forcing her face up toward him. Even then, it took everything in her heart to let herself look him in the eye.
“Here all this time I believed you,” he said, his voice hard as cracked stone. “I believed you when you said you were brave. You resigned yourself to this journey and you’ve done well. Heck, you rode Arrow like you meant it. But after this morning?” He let her chin go and Lynne glanced away. “You’re a coward, Lynne Tremaine.”
“What?” In a flash, her anger returned with a vengeance and she shivered. “A coward?”
“Yes.” He shifted his stance to stand with his feet apart and his fists on his hips. The handle of his old gun stood out from its holster and she could see the outline of the Cooper against his side under his vest.
“I am no coward,” she argued. If he only knew how much courage it took for her to resist giving in to what would mark her as an outcast and a fallen woman forever, he would take back his hurtful words.
“I’ve had nothing to do but think about it all morning,” he went on. “You’re a coward who kisses and runs.”
Lynne’s jaw dropped. “I am no such thing,” she seethed. “You’re the coward.”
“How do you figure that?” His expression darkened by the second.
“You were supposed to protect me, not—”
“You tried that argument this morning,” he spoke over her. “It didn’t hold water then and it won’t hold water now.” He leaned closer to her. “I asked last night if it was what you wanted and you said yes. You said yes with passion too.”
