Fireblossom

by Wright, Cynthia

  Light-headed, Maddie protested, "You are far more skilled at this verbal sparring than I, and it is evident that you are used to extricating yourself from amorous entanglements. If you mean to confuse me, you are succeeding. I am no match for you in this game, sir."

  Fox smiled with slow appreciation. "Modesty becomes you, but I know better than to take you at your word. You won the first encounter of this game, as you call it, quite decisively last night—before I even knew that a contest was in progress."

  "I will not be drawn into this—"

  "At least you have a choice!" he shot back, the bantering tone now gone from his voice.

  Maddie's eyes flashed, but she remained silent. The fact that there was more than a little truth in what Fox said about her hypocrisy did not make her feel any kinder toward him. She wanted to run back to the wagon, but instead she gathered her shaky dignity and walked along the edge of the stream until she was only a few feet from Fox.

  "Yes?" he inquired coolly, scrubbing his shoulders and chest with a white chunk of soap.

  "I thought I should inform you that I did not climb into the wagon last night simply to force myself upon you... and since the experience was apparently so repugnant to you, I assure you that henceforth I shall refrain from trying to convince you otherwise." She hesitated, uncertain of herself and hating the feeling. "I... admit that I do have feelings for you, but I can accept your refusal to reciprocate them."

  "Why, that's very civilized of you," Fox drawled. "Too bad you didn't take me at my word before last night. I told you to stay away from me. Virtue's a valuable commodity for a woman in your class—even in Deadwood. Do you think a gentleman will want you if he knows you're... damaged goods?"

  Her chin trembled. "That's my concern, not yours. What I really want to say is that you mustn't send me back. I know you mean to, that you can't bear my presence, but I am begging you to allow me to go with you to Bear Butte."

  "Why should I?" he demanded, lathering his wet hair.

  "Because I want to meet my half-sister!" Maddie cried. "I have wanted to go ever since Father told us about Yellow Bird and Sun Smile. I knew you wouldn't take me if I asked you, and I knew Father would forbid it, so Gramma Susan and I took matters into our own hands."

  "So I noticed."

  "I object to your arrogance, sir! Just because you are male and stronger and more self-sufficient in this environment than I, that does not make you a superior human being! On the contrary—"

  To her horror, Fox bent over and began rinsing his hair, exposing muscular buttocks as he did so. As he straightened and shook his wet locks he took advantage of Maddie's momentary speechlessness to say, "I admire your conviction, but I cannot stand here in the water all morning while you hold forth. Why don't you return to the wagon and sort your ribbons, or whatever it is that you do before breakfast, and I'll join you shortly. After I am dry and fed, I'll decide what to do with you." The sight of her flushed countenance made him want to smile, but he refrained.

  Maddie whirled around, started off blindly, and nearly tripped over her skirts in the tall grass. "I—I will wait for you, then, expecting to conclude our discussion," she said, striving to appear composed.

  "I don't know that you're in a position to make the rules," Fox answered in an offhand tone. When she started away from him up the hill, he allowed himself a grin, then dived under the water like a fish. Paradise, he thought, and popped back out of the water.

  Maddie stood at the edge of the trees, waiting. "I have a question."

  "Hmm?" He was looking for the soap.

  Willing herself not to blush, Maddie said evenly, "I would appreciate it if you could tell me where the chamber pot is packed."

  Fox stared, certain at first that she was joking. Then his brows flew up and he gave a shout of laughter. "Miss Avery, brace yourself for a shock." He paused, savoring the moment. "There isn't a chamber pot. When one is in the woods, one does one's... business behind the nearest tree."

  Maddie nearly wept with embarrassment and shock. "I see," she replied in a strangled voice, and turned to continue on her way back to the wagon.

  "Are you sure you don't want to go home now?" Fox called after her, grinning.

  Maddie glanced over one shoulder with an imperious expression. "Quite," she replied, then lifted her faded skirt and marched up the wooded hill.

  Chapter 14

  August 3-4, 1876

  Fox didn't send Maddie back to Deadwood. As they ate bread, jerky, and apricots for breakfast, he remarked matter-of-factly that he couldn't spare the time to return her there himself, though he dearly wished to be rid of her. As he stared into her eyes, Maddie found herself unsettled by the sheer intensity of his gaze. Clearly he was angry with her, and more. She'd been quite certain that the "more" was a tender emotion he couldn't bear, but she was beginning to realize that Fox was much more complicated than that. His complexity seemed to fire her own love for him and make her despise him, often at the same time. Yet she was learning how truly willful she was—and she set about exercising her willfulness as if it were a muscle in need of strengthening.

  Their first full day was quite taxing, traveling through the Black Hills toward the eastern edge, where they would then turn north and journey over the plains to Bear Butte. Fox could not allow himself to soften toward Maddie. Hours passed without a word spoken between them. Still wary of his temper and fearful that they'd encounter someone passing them en route to Deadwood, Maddie stayed out of sight in the back of the wagon. Perhaps Fox would forget about her, she mused hopefully. If other pilgrims journeying to the goldfields came along, he might not do any more than wave.

  Maddie found herself dozing despite the stifling heat and the jouncing of the wagon. Sometimes she murmured to Watson, who walked behind patiently. At one point in the afternoon she awoke to find that she was damp with perspiration, and for a moment she was disoriented. Then, remembering where she was, and why, Maddie reflected on the changes she had undergone since leaving Philadelphia—and especially since meeting Fox. The Madeleine Avery of yore would have been appalled by the mess Maddie had made of her life. Here she was, in a rickety wagon, dusty and sweaty, without even a chamber pot, making a journey to an Indian village with a man to whom she had given her virginity and who claimed to want absolutely nothing to do with her... and yet she felt as if she were awash with happiness. She felt free, liberated from all the stringent standards of behavior her mother had instilled in her since childhood.

  In fact, as she knelt on the quilts and peeked at Fox over the stacks of crates, it almost seemed to her that she was enjoying the sort of enormous adventure shed missed during childhood. Her mother had overprotected her and had never allowed her to go off with the children of the Avery servants to play in the woods, building castles out of rocks and branches or sailing little boats down creeks that might carry them all the way to China. Maddie had never played house or donned old clothes and disguises, nor had she put notes in bottles and thrown them into the Schuylkill River in hopes that someone in France could try to decipher her secret language.

  Other children had spent long, happy hours indulging in such energetic and imaginative pastimes. When Madeleine heard their stories, she pretended to disapprove, but in truth, she'd been intrigued. Even as a girl, however, she knew that her mother would never permit adventures of that sort. Colleen had believed that a young girl should pass her days with needlework, music, etiquette, and school studies, while keeping herself immaculately clean at all times.

  Now Maddie knew what she had missed. Every time she tried something that would have horrified her only a few weeks before, a little voice cheered in the back of her mind. She felt brave, a trifle crazy, and utterly ecstatic to be sharing this adventure with Fox. Just the sight of him made her feel intoxicatingly giddy. She loved every moment.

  When they made camp that night, Fox looked drawn, and he treated her as if she were a stranger who had begged a ride. Maddie was feeling oddly serene, however, and smile
d from time to time as she helped him prepare a cold meal and then tidy up before bedtime. Before darkness enveloped them completely, Fox took Watson out for a ride. Maddie sensed that it was as much to get away from her as to exercise the roan, so she cleaned her teeth, took a deep breath and went behind a tree to attend to certain needs, and then climbed into the back of the wagon.

  When Fox returned and tethered Watson, he looked in and saw Maddie curled as far to one side of the quilts as she could get. The moon was bright, bathing her in its luminous glow. God, how she worked on him, he thought—like a drug he could not avoid or resist! Shaking his head, he went to join her. He couldn't recall ever being more exhausted, but still he rolled up an extra quilt and put it between them, like the old-fashioned custom of bundling.

  Exhausted or not, there was no guarantee of safety if he had to sleep next to her....

  * * *

  By the next afternoon Maddie found that the rosy glow was fading from her adventure. Fox's taciturn behavior was making her sulky, and she had never known such heat or dust, not even during the rigorous journey westward from Philadelphia. Of course, most of that trip had been spent on trains and a riverboat, and the overland leg across Dakota had taken place in June. August in the Dakota Territory was quite a different story.

  The prospect of enduring the rest of this day and night covered with grimy perspiration made her scowl. When the wagon rolled over a large rock, jarring her, she glared at Watson and muttered an oath.

  "What?" Fox yelled from the driver's perch.

  She couldn't believe he'd heard her. "I didn't speak," she replied loudly. "Your ears fool you."

  "I don't think so," he said, with a dry smile, but he didn't press the matter.

  They were coming down, out of the Hills, when Fox guided the mules off the rutted road and onto a grassy plateau. Eagerly Maddie scrambled out of the back of the wagon to take a look.

  The shallow canyon that lay before them emerged from the pine-studded hillside with the flourish of a rushing waterfall. The canyon narrowed and then opened gradually until the distant prairie spread it flat and marked the stream with cottonwood trees.

  "How lovely!" she exclaimed, shading her eyes in the late afternoon sunlight. The cheerful splash of the waterfall made her lick her lips.

  Fox pulled up the blue kerchief knotted around his neck and wiped the sweat from his brow. "I thought we'd make camp here for tonight. The heat will be even more relentless once we're on the plains."

  "I'm slowing you down, aren't I?"

  "You mean am I altering the pace out of concern for your feminine sensibilities?" He neatly smiled. "No. Are you saying that I've somehow made this journey pleasurable for you? If so, that was hardly my intent. Since you came uninvited, I'd prefer to ignore your needs altogether." Fox freed the mules from their harnesses, then unbuttoned his shirt, lost in thought. "I'll see to the animals before I wash up. In an hour or so you can cook us some supper. I intend to turn in early so that we can start for Bear Butte before dawn, while it's cool."

  A thin rivulet of perspiration drizzled down Maddie's back. She wanted to scream. Instead she repeated through gritted teeth, "Cook?"

  "I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble, ma'am," Fox shot back.

  Their eyes met for a long, angry minute, and spots of color stained Maddie's cheeks. He knew perfectly well that she could scarcely cook in a kitchen, let alone out here in the wilderness, but of course this was his way of needling her, of forcing her to acknowledge that she was a useless burden and had been wrong to come.

  "I might be able to make you a fire," he said slowly.

  "How kind you are! That would be simply lovely. All we lack is matching china." Maddie yanked open the tiny buttons at the top of her bodice. "Do you know, I believe I'll have a bath myself. That is, if you'll allow it, sir."

  Fox's brows flicked upward at her announcement. He went to fetch Watson, who was demanding attention, and as he led the roan past Maddie he said, "Do you mean a bath—or more prim dabbing at your neck with that pretty pink cloth?"

  "To be quite honest with you, I'm finding that the tenuous hold I had on civilized conduct has deserted me entirely." She reached into the wagon for a towel and soap, pretending not to notice Fox's bemused expression.

  "In that case, don't delay on my account, Miss Avery. I'll be happy to wait my turn... unless, of course, your sense of propriety has disappeared to the extent that—"

  "No," Maddie interjected sweetly, "I draw the line at communal bathing."

  Off she went then, leaving Fox to stare after her with the sort of appreciative smile that he tried to keep hidden. The feeling in his chest, however—like a clenching fist that alternated with a sense of frightening, blessed surrender—was growing more difficult to ignore. Fox was an honest man caught up in a maze of secrets that seemed to beget one another, yet the prospect of revealing the truth to Maddie was intolerable to him.

  Running his lean hand over Watson's side, he murmured wryly, "I'm not even sure myself what's true, let alone what's right...."

  * * *

  Nearly tearing off the buttons, Madeleine stripped off her faded gown, then her petticoat, stockings, and shoes, until she stood on the bank of the stream in her oldest muslin chemise.

  The sensation of blazing sunlight on her naked arms and legs was stunningly novel and liberating. Her mother would be scandalized, she thought, and discovered that it was a relief to have that out of the way. Colleen's code of etiquette was like a piece of baggage, a fancy hatbox, perhaps, that had fallen off the wagon long ago. It wasn't important or relevant to her new life; it only restricted her.

  Maddie laughed aloud as she looked down in happy amazement at her bare limbs, remembering Fox's taunts during her performance with the soap and cloth the morning before. It was simply ludicrous for her to cling to Philadelphia standards out here in the wilderness! Besides, she was hot and dirty; it was time to get clean.

  Stepping tentatively over the gravel shore, Maddie looked down and glimpsed her breasts through the sheer fabric of her chemise. A sense of horror jarred her momentarily, for the pink crests of her nipples were clearly visible, out here in broad daylight! Then she stopped and hugged herself, smiling again. It was as if she were on a seesaw between the past and the future, between the proper lady her mother had raised her to become and the spirited, passionate woman who was emerging a little further with each moment that passed. Maddie couldn't help the pangs of anxiety that threatened to hold her back, but she fought them and let herself flow with the inexorable currents of destiny. Part of the exhilaration she felt was due to Fox and the magic of her love for him; yet there was a grander design at work—a design that was altering the fabric of Madeleine's inner being.

  With the innocence of a child, she stepped into the water and waded in to her waist. It was cool, rushing around her, startlingly pleasurable against her bare legs. There was a warm glow in her heart, a feeling of wonder and joy, as she raised her face to the sun and, eyes closed, basked in its glory.

  The waterfall beckoned. Maddie opened her eyes and splashed toward the shower that streamed over a canyon shelf. She paused to pull down the wet chemise and toss it onto the bank, and then she drew the pins from her dusty hair and let the sunset-bright mass spill down her back.

  Fresh and invigorating, the waterfall cascaded over her arm, then her shoulder, and finally, as she stepped forward, Maddie's entire body. It was glorious. She rubbed the bar of soap over her skin and watched the froth rinse away in the next instant. When she stretched up her arms to wash her hair, the sensation of water streaming down her exposed breasts, belly, and thighs was sheer ecstasy.

  Through the blurry curtain of water, Maddie saw the china blue sky, the shallow curve of the stream bank, a hawk gliding in the distance... and Fox standing high above her on the rim of the gulch, shirtless, staring.

  * * *

  By the time Fox finished his own bath and returned to their campsite for supper, Maddie had spread a picni
c over a quilt on the ground and the sun was setting behind the hills.

  Hearing him approach, she felt suddenly shy and busied herself with plates and forks. She had no regrets about the shower, which she felt had cleansed her in every sense of the word, but instincts had a way of rising up unbidden. Her cheeks flamed at the memory of that moment, when she had seen him watching her under the waterfall, and later, the fire in his eyes when she had climbed the hill from the stream to the plateau where they camped, wearing only the damp chemise.

  What point was there in struggling back into her gown when she was wet and the sun was beating down on her—and Fox had already seen her completely naked? Still, to walk right up to him in broad daylight clad only in an undergarment that left nothing to the imagination...!

  "I see that you decided to put on some clothes," he remarked now, hunkering down next to her on the quilt.

  "A few." She was furious at herself for blushing like a schoolgirl, for feeling shy with him when she was supposed to be reveling in her newfound abandon.

  Fox didn't know what to think. He shrugged into the clean shirt he'd unpacked earlier, ran his hands through his wet hair, and marveled at Maddie, who was wearing loose pants, probably borrowed from her father, and a smaller shirt that most likely belonged to Benjamin. The latter was unbuttoned in front so that her sweet chemise peeked through. Never had Fox seen a more innocent undergarment—or one that aroused him as acutely. It was an insane situation.

  The more he told himself that he could not, must not, have her, and could not, must not, care, the more insane he felt.

  One moment she was cavorting naked in a waterfall; the next moment she was dressed like a boy, her luxuriant hair caught back in a ribbon, her face turned away to hide a demure blush. Her mouth looked more delicious than the array of food she had spread before him.