by Merry Farmer
“Miss Lucy.” He greeted her with a nod, sending a nervous glance into his wagon bed. “Can I do something for you?”
Lucy frowned at the formality in his voice. Just the other day, they had talked like old friends. True, she hadn’t had much of a chance to seek him out in the last couple of days, but a few days on the trail shouldn’t push them back to being strangers again.
She shrugged and inched closer to him, leaning her hip against the back of his wagon. “I just wanted to talk is all. Don’t you think it’s terrible how Mrs. Gravesend just dropped dead like that? So suddenly too. I can’t imagine anything worse than dropping dead of a heart attack on the trail.”
Curiously, Gideon paled and turned away from her. Instead of answering, he hummed. Lucy blinked, narrowed her eyes in thought, and chewed her lip. That wasn’t the response she would have guessed he’d have.
“So I’m feeling a little upset is all,” she went on. “Death is upsetting, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I do.” His answer was hoarse, and he cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”
That didn’t seem right either. Almost like he was getting rid of her. It made no sense, considering how kind he’d been when they first met. Impatience and the all-too familiar feeling of being dismissed prickled down her spine.
“Can I help with anything?” She reached for the nearest box, taking out a glass jar. It was filled with a sickly yellow-green liquid.
“No, no, no!” Gideon leapt over to take the jar from her. He removed it from her hands as if it were a precious gem. In the process, their fingers touched.
Lucy sucked in a breath. He had nice hands. It would be wonderful to go for a walk holding one. Or to feel one caressing her cheek… or more.
Those heated thoughts vanished at the stern frown Gideon wore.
“This is a dangerous chemical,” he explained. “Chlorine.”
“Oh-h.” She drew out the syllable, staring in wonder at the jar. “For water purification?”
Gideon nodded, still pale and wan. “Among other things.” He nestled the jar carefully back into its straw pillow inside of one of the crates. “On its own, it can do a lot of good, but it is potentially flammable—or even explosive—if mixed with other chemicals. And if you mix it with bromide….”
He stopped and swallowed hard. Lucy waited to hear more, hanging on his every word, eager to learn something.
At last, he let out a breath and shook his head, face drawn in deep sadness. “My things are not toys. You should probably go.”
She blinked, blushed under the sharpness of his reprimand, and stepped back. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No, I’m sorry.” He was quick to apologize, rubbing his forehead. His dismissiveness melted to a feeling of regret and… and something deeper. “It’s been a long day.”
Of course it had. Everyone was upset about Mrs. Gravesend. Once again, she was being too nosy and forward for her own good.
“Well, I’ll just leave you to… do whatever you need to do with your chemicals,” she said, backing up, wondering where she’d gone wrong with the conversation. Her heart wanted to stick it out and ask what was wrong. “Good night, Gideon,” she murmured instead.
“Good night, Lucy,” he replied with a sigh.
It wasn’t much of a good night. Even though the summer air was cool and a soft breeze blew across the prairie, Lucy had a hard time sleeping. She couldn’t shake the depth of sadness she’d seen in Gideon’s eyes, or the irritation she’d caused by meddling in his things. Or even the way he’d avoided looking her in the eye. None of it sat right.
As she tossed and turned in her bedroll under the stars, she ran through a thousand possible explanations for why Gideon would be so distant when she thought they were friends. Maybe he was upset by Mrs. Gravesend’s death, or maybe he was as concerned for the poor orphans as she was. Maybe she needed to learn more about the chemicals he was taking west so that she would know what she could and couldn’t touch.
Or maybe Gideon was just lonely. The only person she’d ever seen talking to him—besides Pete when he needed to give orders—was Graham Tremaine. She’d watched Gideon carving something that looked like a wooden leg for Graham the other day when they were stopped for supper, but no one had kept him company as he worked.
“I’m beginning to think that the problem with Gideon Faraday is that he needs someone to show that they care about him.” She’d come to the conclusion in the wee hours of the morning, and voiced it to Olivia as they prepared for the potluck lunch Pete had called for in the wake of Mrs. Gravesend’s death.
Olivia tilted her head to consider, then nodded. “Perhaps. Though some people like to be on their own.”
“Nonsense,” Lucy laughed. “Why be alone when there are so many wonderful people to get to know?”
Olivia’s lips twitched into a grin. “Meaning you?”
Lucy blushed. “Possibly.” She smiled at the thought, the image she’d had of her and Gideon taking a walk, hand-in-hand, coming back to her. Wouldn’t that be lovely? If she was lucky, maybe he would even try to steal a kiss.
A kiss. She gasped.
“I’ve just had the most splendid idea,” she told Olivia, bursting with mischief.
Before Olivia could ask what, Alvin came scurrying up to her. “Miss Lucy, Miss Lucy.”
Lucy’s smile faded to concern at the sight of Alvin’s furrowed brow. “Is something wrong, sweetheart?”
Alvin blinked at her. “Sweetheart? Eew.” A moment later, his worry was back. “Miss Lucy, they’re going to sell us to people as slaves.”
“They’re—” She blinked rapidly and shook her head as she tried to absorb what he said. A moment later, the pieces clicked into place, and she laughed. “They’re not going to sell you as slaves, Alvin. My friend Estelle told me that they’re going to ask some of the families on the wagon train to take you in. That’s all. You could find your new family today.”
Alvin greeted the news with suspicion. “How about you take me in instead and we’ll catch frogs.”
A twang pulled at Lucy’s heart. She slipped her arm around Alvin’s shoulder and kissed his forehead. “I’m a single lady, sweetheart. I can’t take you in. You’d be much happier with a family.”
“No I wouldn’t,” he complained.
“Just you watch,” Lucy countered. “But until then, why don’t you help Miss Olivia and I with lunch?”
Alvin grumbled and complained, but as soon as Lucy handed him a knife to peel and cut up potatoes, he went to work. In spite of the frogs, Alvin wasn’t such a bad child. It was sweet of him to ask her to take him in. She dreamed of being a mother someday, but not right away.
That thought led to the next, which involved cradling a baby while Gideon rested his arm around her shoulder and smiled down at the baby with her.
Lucy’s whole body heated at the thought.
“So what was this splendid idea of yours?” Olivia asked.
Prickles of excitement raced along Lucy’s skin. In the picture her imagination was painting, she turned to Gideon and kissed him square on the lips, baby in her arms and all.
“I’m going to kiss Gideon Faraday,” she declared.
“Kiss?” Alvin croaked from his seat with the potatoes by her side. “Gross.”
“Kiss him?” Olivia echoed, with one eyebrow raised.
“Yes. That’s exactly what he needs,” Lucy went on. “If ever there was a man in need of a good kiss, it’s Gideon. Then maybe he’ll smile again and not look so lonely all the time.”
“Because you kissed him,” Olivia said, unconvinced.
Lucy blinked out of her daydream and turned to her friend. She met Olivia’s teasing, doubtful look with a nod of determination. “Well, someone has to.”
“Kiss Gideon Faraday?” Olivia burst into a giggle.
“Absolutely. Kissing is good for the soul.”
“Kissing is stupid,” Alvin said.
/> Lucy reached out to poke his nose. “You only say that because you’ve never been kissed by anything but a frog before.”
“And you have?” he asked.
She turned bright red and focused on her work again. “Well, maybe.”
Olivia laughed. “I swear, Lucy Haskell. You’ll get yourself into more trouble on this journey than any of the rest of us combined.”
Lucy turned to her friend with raised brow. “And you won’t get into trouble?”
“No. None.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Olivia shook her head, chuckling. “What I find hard to believe is that Gideon Faraday will let you walk right up to him and kiss him.”
“Hmm.” Lucy rested her weight on one hip and tapped her eager lips with her fingertip. “I’ll just have to spring it on him when he doesn’t expect it, then.”
Gideon was beginning to think that he’d never be able to travel far or fast enough to escape the remorse that stalked him. The wagon train finally moved on after the death of Mrs. Gravesend and the orphans were distributed amongst families on the wagon train. It took him a lot longer to move on from the itching, uncomfortable feeling that dismissing Lucy so harshly the other day had given him.
When the wagon train stopped for their midday rest a few days later, he took the opportunity to work on the artificial leg he was constructing for Graham. In the process of hunting for his carving knife amongst the things in his trunk, he found the satchel full of money. Again. It seemed nothing he could do would keep it from haunting him.
A wave of depression pushed down on him. It had gone missing after Independence. For a few days, he’d hoped he lost it. How it had found its way into his trunk was a mystery, but once he found it, he couldn’t stop staring at it. Blood money, paid in full. Some men would have rubbed their hands in delight to have such a sum. Gideon could only clutch the satchel until his fingers ached, wishing he knew how to lose it. No price could fully pay for the lives he’d taken with his gullibility.
“What are you doing?” Lucy asked, sliding up to his side and peeking down over his shoulder.
Gideon choked, his throat suddenly dry. He thrust the satchel of money back into his trunk and whipped around to face her. Lucy was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Sunsets seemed to stay in her auburn hair, long after the sun went down. She was naturally curious and vivacious.
And the last time he’d spoken with her, he’d snapped at her.
It seemed like nothing he did would ever turn out right, not even letting a woman down easy.
Because, of course, the problem was that too great a percentage of him didn’t want to let Lucy Haskell down at all.
“I’m attempting to construct a wooden leg for Graham.” He snatched up the block of wood and reached into his trunk for the knife.
“What a wonderful thing to do.” Her smile was as bright and hot as the summer sun that scorched the prairie. It was delightful, but Gideon was smart enough to read the spark in her eyes and know there was another purpose behind it.
“It’s not particularly interesting,” he went on, moving to the side of his wagon to sit on the empty crate he’d brought out earlier to use as a chair. Without looking at her, he set to work shaping the wood.
“I wouldn’t say that.” Lucy searched around as he focused on his carving, hands beginning to shake as he raked the knife blade across the wood.
When she found a spare crate off to one side, she dragged it over and plopped it next to him, then sat. Close. Very close. Gideon could smell the faint, flowery scent of perfumed soap.
She leaned close to him, staring at his mouth, her own lips soft.
An urge as old as time—to drop whatever he was doing and take her in his arms to kiss her—pressed down on him. He fought it by clearing his throat and gripping the knife tighter.
“My aim with this design is to come up with a way for the artificial leg to mimic the movement of actual ones, muscles, and tendons.” His voice cracked halfway through the unasked for explanation.
“Fascinating.” She leaned closer.
Gideon scooted away. “It’s been difficult watching Graham trying to walk all this way, and it will only become more difficult as we go along.”
“Yes, I can see that.”
He made the mistake of stealing a peek at her. Lucy’s smile widened and she batted her eyelashes. He had to stop carving for fear that he would cut himself.
“I admire Graham, though,” he went on, voice rough. The heat that pulsed through him had nothing to do with the sun. “It takes a brave man to try something so strenuous, and all for his sister.”
“I’m sure my brother would never do anything like that for me.” Lucy pulled back with her words, a genuine pout turning her bottom lip down.
He reacted as if she’d thrown her arms around him, swaying closer to her, heart ready to burst out of his chest. “Do you not get along with your brother?”
“We get along well enough.” She stared at her hands in her lap. Gideon contemplated setting aside his carving and taking those hands. “Franklin is younger than me, and like it or not, he can be a brat. I still miss him, though.”
The urge to do something to comfort Lucy, to protect her and make everything better, lasted until she glanced up and met his eyes. Once more, the spark of mischief flashed in her, and Gideon’s senses ran riot.
“Do you have anyone you miss?” she asked, leaning closer to him once more.
“Not really. Most of my family lives in England.”
“Oh?”
He nodded tightly. The idea was to keep his distance from her, not invite confidence. “My father came over before I was born, met and married my mother, and I was born in Connecticut. But they both went back and took my younger sisters with them when Father unexpectedly inherited property.”
“They didn’t take you?”
“I was already enrolled at Princeton University at the time.”
“Do you miss them?” She inched closer, resting her hand on his thigh.
The second Gideon felt his body stir in glorious, inappropriate ways, he leapt to his feet. The wooden leg dropped to the ground, his knife clattering with it.
“Oh dear.” Lucy slipped off her crate and reached for the leg and knife.
Gideon bent at the same time, and his shoulder crashed into her head.
“Ow!”
“I’m sorry.” He rushed to catch her before she could fall over.
They straightened together, and without warning, Gideon found himself with his arms around her. Lucy send him a coquettish grin, glancing up at him through lowered lashes. A heartbeat later, she tilted her lips up to him and closed her eyes.
The temptation was so strong that he leaned toward her, holding his breath.
What was he thinking?
With a gasp, he took a large step back, setting Lucy aside. Before she could recover, he scooped the wooden leg and knife up and walked them around to the back of his wagon.
“I do miss my family,” he said in a gravelly voice. “We send each other letters frequently, though.”
“Oh.” Lucy’s expression was one of disappointment rather than interest. She puffed out a breath and let her shoulders drop.
A moment later, her grin returned and she sidled up to him at the back of his wagon.
“I miss my family too, Papa and my Aunt Virginia especially. Aunt Virginia is quite a character. She’s done all sorts of scandalous things with her life, things that ladies aren’t supposed to do. She owns half of the ranch with my father and runs it herself. She was married to my Uncle Cyrus, but I was hardly more than a baby when he died. I’ve often wondered if Aunt Virginia has been in love with anyone since he died. People can fall in love more than once, don’t you think so?”
She walked her fingers along the tailgate of his wagon, reaching for his hand, as she finished her question. As soon as Gideon peeked at her, she licked her lips and stared at his mouth, then leaned toward him, li
ps first.
Why on earth was Lucy Haskell trying to kiss him?
He blinked, studying her as the truth of the matter hit him square in the chest. She was trying to kiss him, and she wasn’t being particularly subtle about it either.
Underneath the guilt and wariness that squeezed in on him from all sides, a hint of amusement took root. No woman in the history of the universe had ever pursued him quite like this before. Sure, he’d had a few delicate understandings with women that had never lasted very long due to the demands of his work, but none of those ladies had ever gone after him with Lucy’s single-minded determination. He didn’t know whether to laugh or run.
One thing was certain, he wasn’t about to let her kiss him. That was a slippery slope that he wasn’t about to start down. For her sake more than his.
“I don’t know anything about love,” he said with a new confidence. He took a big side step away from her and reached into his wagon to pull a crate toward him. “I know about science.”
Lucy blinked, frowned, and rocked back from where she’d lifted herself up to her toes. “Yes, I know you know about science,” she said, irritated.
A grin twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Science is all about laws and order.”
“Is it?” She lifted her eyes to look at him, but the weight of defeat settled over her.
Gideon’s smile grew. “Take the law of attraction, for example. It all started with Sir Isaac Newton, who proposed that when certain chemical affinities exist between bodies, those bodies will naturally be attracted to each other and bond.”
“Bodies?” Lucy’s reply was breathless, and she raised a hand to her chest. Her soft cheeks splashed pink.
Gideon was certain his own face burned bright red as well. The reference was deliberate, but he hadn’t counted on all of the layers of meaning that his sly explanation would have. Instead of putting the distance of joking between them, he felt the urge to tug her into his arms and ravage her.
Which was not only completely out of character for him—or so he’d always assumed—it would form bonds between them that he knew full well he didn’t deserve. He’d assumed more than he had a right to already, in spite of how sharply his heart ached.