Trail of Passion (Hot on the Trail Book 7)

by Merry Farmer

  Lucy heaved a sigh, twisting first in one direction, then in the other. Nothing seemed to be working for her these days. She had to do something to set things right.

  As the thought pounded at her, she caught Gideon’s eyes. He had seen the entire confrontation. A bleak sort of hopelessness lit his eyes. Even with so much between them, it was clear his heart longed for her, for what they’d had so briefly. That gave her the courage to push on.

  She turned to follow Leopold, picking up her skirts and rushing through one camp after another until she spotted him. He didn’t have a wagon of his own, but Pete had let him store his belongings in the back of one of the crew wagons. Leopold sat at the edge of a crew camp, not far from where Graham and Estelle were eating supper together with Tim.

  “Mr. Diver,” she called out as she narrowed the gap between them.

  Leopold turned to face her, brow flying up as he spotted her. He stopped and waited for her to catch up.

  “Mr. Diver, I’m so sorry about Alvin’s behavior,” she began her apology, out of breath. “It’s just that he’s an orphan, and he’s had rather a hard journey so far. First, the woman who was supposed to take all of the orphans out to Oregon to find new families died suddenly when we’d only just started the journey. Then he ended up being looked after by a family that was… well, they weren’t the nicest lot.”

  She couldn’t forget that Mr. Poole had won that lovely ring that she’d found so pretty by playing cards.

  That thought only brought another one of Gideon and the kind of hope wearing the ring, if only for a moment, had swirled up in her.

  She shook her head and went on. “That family headed on to Denver City, but didn’t want to adopt him and take him along. So now Alvin is with a different family, and apparently the father just told him that he would need to learn how to work because that’s all he’d be able to do with his life.” She huffed out a breath and added, “Which is just silly, because this is the West, after all, and anyone with half a brain and a little gumption can make a fabulous life for themselves. Why, my father, Howard Haskell….”

  She stopped at the twitch of Leopold’s lips that told her she was annoying the man.

  “I’m sorry.” She glanced down, clasping her hands in front of her. “I just don’t want you to be angry with Alvin. He wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings. He didn’t know about your son.”

  Again, Lucy snapped her lips shut, convinced she’d said too much. She peeked up at Leopold. Leopold’s eyes had gone crinkly around the corners, almost as if he’d been amused by her instead of annoyed. Now they went slack and hollow.

  “Did your friend, Dr. Faraday, tell you what I suspect about my son’s death?” he asked, dark and low.

  Lucy swallowed. She nodded, then lowered her head. Her insides seized up with confusion at the thought.

  Leopold humphed. “It is as I suspected, then.”

  Lucy shot a look up at him. “You mean, you didn’t know?”

  He shook his head, and with the motion, Lucy felt as though she’d eaten bad mushrooms. Gideon would be furious with her for betraying the truth.

  But no, she was furious with him for being a part of something so horrifying.

  Wasn’t she?

  “I have been gathering information for more than a year,” Leopold said, his voice rough. “No one is willing to say anything, reveal even a small part of the truth. But I was able to learn about research into the properties of chlorine gas, and I found some of the names of the scientists involved.”

  “Did you follow Gideon out here?” Lucy asked, fear for him pushing every other thought out of her mind.

  “I did,” Leopold admitted.

  Lucy’s mouth was suddenly dry. She didn’t know how to answer. Leopold’s expression betrayed nothing, nothing at all, but it gave her an itchy feeling, like she’d done something wrong.

  “Thank you, Miss Lucy.” Leopold gave her a curt bow. “It’s good to know the truth at last.”

  With that, he turned and marched away.

  Lucy stood where she was, watching his back until he turned around the corner of a wagon and disappeared from sight. She wrung her clasped hands, bubbling over with panic. What had she done? Leopold hadn’t looked at all pleased with the truth. Was Gideon in danger now? She had been so certain that she loved danger, loved the thrill that it gave her, but this wasn’t thrilling at all.

  “Lucy, whatever is wrong?” Estelle stood from the barrel where she had been eating her supper. She set her plate aside, then crossed the camp to Lucy. “I don’t believe I know that man, but it looks like he said something that upset you.”

  Lucy shook her head, still watching the spot where Leopold had disappeared. “He didn’t upset me, I said something that upset him. Without thinking. Oh, I wish I could just keep my mouth shut. I think I just made things worse.”

  “What things?” Estelle asked.

  Lucy turned to face her fully, mouth opened to explain. It snapped shut when she spotted Gideon striding toward her, hands in his pockets. His head was lowered, but his eyes were fixed on her.

  “Oh dear,” she squeaked, resting a hand on her hot face.

  “Lucy?” Estelle asked.

  She didn’t get an answer. Gideon reached them. He nodded to Estelle, then across to Graham, then said to Lucy, “Can I talk to you?”

  Lucy’s eyes flew wide. Had he seen her speaking with Leopold? Did he know what she’d revealed to the man? The things Gideon had done were bad, but she wasn’t sure she was any better for blurting it all out, as if it was her secret to tell.

  “Certainly,” she squeaked, too formal for all that had passed between them on the trail.

  Gideon let out a breath of relief. He shifted his weight, kicking his toe in the dirt of the camp. “Mind if we go for a walk?” he asked.

  “That would be fine.”

  She managed a smile, but it was stilted and uncertain. Should she be angry with him, or was he about to tell her how angry he was with her? Should she be aloof and scold him, or should she beg him to forgive her? Nothing made sense to her anymore.

  She didn’t have time to work it all out. Gideon took her hand and led her away from the cluster of wagons, where no one would be around to rescue her if the conversation went wrong.

  He hadn’t planned on saying anything. He had sworn to himself that the silent treatment Lucy was giving him was everything he deserved. But the two days since his confession and since Lucy had walked away from him had felt like two centuries to Gideon. He couldn’t let it go on any longer.

  “H-how are you?” he asked when they had ventured well out of earshot of anyone else. Exactly like he was meeting a near-stranger at a formal gathering.

  “I’m well, thank you,” she answered as if by rote.

  It hurt. It physically hurt him to talk to her like this. After everything that had passed between them on the journey so far, he should be sweeping her into his arms to kiss her—bold and heroic—not fumbling around like a booby at his first ball.

  “How is Alvin?” he bumbled on. “He looked a little grumpy earlier.”

  Lucy blushed scarlet. “That was my fault. He was showing me a knot he learned to tie. Then Mr. Diver came along.” She stopped and swallowed.

  In the setting sun, her hair almost looked as though it was on fire. She’d tanned a bit along the trail, which only warmed her more. She still was and probably always would be the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. But something else hid in the lines of her face and the color that had come to her cheeks. She was upset.

  “What is it?” He stopped, facing her and resting a hand on her arm.

  As soon as she glanced down to the spot where he touched her, he pulled his hand away, cursing himself for taking the liberty when she clearly didn’t want him anymore.

  “It’s nothing, nothing,” she started in a rush. She closed her eyes, her long lashes sweeping her cheeks. The air between them sizzled with tension. Then, all at once, she snapped her eyes up to meet
his and blurted, “Mr. Diver just asked me if I knew what had happened to his son, and when I said that yes, you told me…. Well, he hadn’t actually known for sure what happened to Michael, but when I said you’d told me, it confirmed what he suspected.” She took a fast breath, then pushed on. “I didn’t mean to spill your secret to him, Gideon, truly, I didn’t. But now he knows, and he didn’t look very happy about it, and… and I’m worried about you now.”

  She finished by biting her lip, and when that wasn’t enough, she raised her hands to cover her mouth.

  Fear froze Gideon to his spot. Fear and something else, deeper and less certain. Leopold hadn’t known all that had happened? After the things he’d said the other day? If Leopold hadn’t known, then did nobody else know? It didn’t seem right that the whole thing had been forgotten, but at the same time, it was a relief.

  “I’m sorry,” Lucy blurted when the silence between them had gone on too long.

  “You’re sorry?” He unfroze and let his shoulders drop.

  “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m always getting myself into trouble by saying things I shouldn’t. This time especially.”

  He blinked at her, surprise and fondness falling all over each other.

  And then he smiled. “You have nothing to be sorry about, Lucy. I’m the one who has done something terrible.”

  “I know,” she rushed on, the passion in her words just as startling as her apology. “And I don’t know what to think of it. I don’t know what to think at all, Gideon.”

  “Of me?” he dared to ask.

  “Of anything.” She huffed out a frustrated breath. It was as if a dam broke. “The experiment with your chlorine gas sounds like it was simply dreadful. Beyond dreadful. But I don’t believe for a moment that you would set out to kill people. Since the very first moment I met you, you’ve been nothing but wonderful and smart and kind. I just can’t imagine you doing anything like that on purpose.”

  He shook his head. “It wasn’t on purpose, but it was my fault. I should have put a stop to things or pulled out of the project when I knew what it was. But I didn’t. I kept going, kept researching and testing, because I wanted to see how it would work.”

  For some odd reason, saying those things aloud—saying them for the first time, to Lucy—lifted a portion of the load that had been on his shoulders for the last two years. He had wanted to see what would happen. He’d needed to. If there was some way that the experiment could have uncovered more uses for chlorine, more ways it could have improved life, then he wanted to know.

  “I don’t know how science works,” Lucy said, “but I know enough to know that you have to experiment with things. Was that what you were doing?”

  He wanted to rush in and say yes, if only to let himself off the hook, but he had to be honest. “In part. Something good could have come out of it, but nothing did. I was wrong. I have to face that.”

  There was a long silence between them. Lucy twisted her hands together in front of her, biting her lip and frowning.

  At last, she said, “I guess it takes a brave man to admit he was wrong.”

  She peeked up at him, and all at once, Gideon knew he was forgiven, if not entirely right at that moment, at least he would be in time. All of the pain and tension that had been sitting on his shoulders for days that felt like years rolled off of him. He reached for her hands, and bless her, she let him take them.

  “It takes a brave woman to admit it too,” he said. “And to forgive?” He’d never asked a question that meant so much in his life.

  He was rewarded by a bright smile of reassurance that lit Lucy’s entire face. “Of course I forgive you,” she said, and launched herself into his arms. He closed his arms around her, nearly groaning at how good it felt. “I don’t understand any of it. You’ll have to help me make sense of things, but I know now that you would never do anything to hurt a fly going forward. You want to help people now, don’t you?”

  “I do,” he assured her, squeezing her so close that he lifted her to her tip-toes.

  “That’s why you’re bringing all of those chemicals with you to the West, isn’t it? So that you can find ways to purify people’s water and help them to live better lives to make up for that nasty experiment.”

  “Yes.” The relief that flooded him was so strong it turned his legs to jelly. She understood what he was doing, even if he hadn’t been able to tell himself that’s why he was doing it.

  He loosened his hold on her enough to kiss her. It had only been a few days since their last kiss, but as their lips met, as she softened against him and let him drink his fill of her, it felt as though he was kissing her for the first time after being far, far away for decades. She slipped her arms around him, threading her fingers through his hair and sighing. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, then invaded her mouth, teasing her tongue with his.

  He’d never been happier than when she hummed in approval and met his passionate exploration with her own. It was a sign of forgiveness. The press of her fingertips into his back and of her stomach against his was a show of trust and a promise of acceptance. He still had so much to atone for—both to her for keeping silent so long and to the men whose lives he’d had a hand in taking—but the heat of her body and the envelope of her embrace was all he needed to know that he could climb back from the abyss he’d fallen into.

  Gideon wasn’t sure how long they stayed out in the twilight kissing. It was too sweet to hold her in his arms and feel her body’s reaction to her to keep track of time. The sun slipped below the horizon, and darkness spread lazy fingers across the open land.

  “We should get back,” he whispered as the air around them cooled.

  She hummed in approval. “We should go to bed.”

  It was not an invitation to go to sleep.

  Gideon’s heart raced. He had no idea how he’d gotten so lucky. With a chuckle deep in his throat, he took Lucy’s hand and started a swift walk back across the darkening wilderness toward the wagons. The campfires stood out like stars on the ground as they drew nearer. The man with the banjo had brought it out and was playing, accompanied by a harmonica and singing. A few children could still be heard playing, but for the most part, the camps around the wagons were hushed and peaceful.

  He kept a firm grip on Lucy’s hand as the two of them wound their way through the camps to reach the spot where he’d parked his wagon, apart from the others. Guilt and misery had led him to separate himself and his things from the others. He’d been convinced he didn’t deserve a place with decent people. Maybe he didn’t, but with Lucy by his side, he could at least hope to earn one.

  They were still several yards from his wagon when he caught a whiff of the acrid scent of chlorine.

  Beside him, Lucy sniffed. “What’s that?”

  They drew nearer, and the scent was stronger. Much stronger. Nearly overpowering.

  Gideon’s heart shot to his throat. He let go of Lucy’s hand and ran toward his wagon. In the dying light of evening and campfires, he could see that the tailgate of his wagon was open. Lumpy shapes on the ground suggested that crates had been tossed out of the back and broken into. Worse still, as he and Lucy came to stop in the center of his camp, he could see shards and shards of glass from broken jars.

  Someone had broken into his wagon and destroyed at least half of his chlorine.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Stay back,” Gideon shouted.

  Lucy’s heart caught in her throat—a throat that stung with the strength of so much spilled chlorine. She raised a hand to cover her mouth and coughed.

  “It’s… it’s not going to kill me, is it?” she asked.

  “No,” Gideon called back over his shoulder. He hopped into the wagon, disappearing under the canvas. “No, on its own, the chlorine is just an irritant. The gas needs to be concentrated and mixed with bromine to be lethal.” There was a pause, a bump from the back of the wagon, then Gideon called. “The crate with the bromine is untouched.”

&
nbsp; What little light was left in the sky faded by the second. Lucy inched closer to the wagon as Gideon leapt out. Behind her, she could hear footfalls in the dirt.

  “What’s going on here?” Pete called to them.

  There was no need to answer. A moment later, he and Josephine came close enough to see the damage, smell the chlorine, and cough.

  “Whew,” Josephine exclaimed, fanning a hand in front of her nose. “That stuff stinks.”

  “Is it dangerous?” Pete echoed Lucy’s question.

  “No.” Gideon let out a breath. “Only destroyed. Three of the seven crates I brought with me. One of the others has the lid pried off, but whoever did this didn’t get to all of it.”

  Whoever did this. Lucy clamped a hand at the top of her chest. Suspicion flew at her, fast and thick. There was only one person she could think of who would have any reason to destroy Gideon’s things—someone she had just told that Gideon was responsible for his son’s death. Leopold.

  “I guess that’s a small blessing,” Pete went on. He picked his way across the glass-filled camp, bending over to pick up one of the overturned crates. “Looks like the jars were smashed against these rocks. Is it safe to light a few lanterns so we can get a better look at the damage?”

  “Yes. Chlorine isn’t flammable,” Gideon answered.

  “I’ll go fetch a lantern,” Josephine said. She turned and headed off.

  Gideon crossed his camp to retrieve his own lantern, lighting it as Pete walked gingerly through the camp, squinting in the darkness. Glass crunched under his boots. Lucy stayed right where she was, too overwhelmed by the connections she’d just made about who could have done this and her part in the whole thing.

  When Gideon lit his lamp, spreading dim light in a circle around him, she met his eyes. He’d never looked so grim in all the time she’d known him.

  “Who would have done this?” Pete finally asked the question that had been rolling and rolling in Lucy’s mind.

  Lucy bit her lip, pleading silently with Gideon not to blame her.