“What was that?” he asked the other man.
“I don’t know.” Will shook his head. “I’m sorry, David. I’m so sorry. We patrolled every inch of that train before we started. I didn’t see the crash, but...”
“It wasn’t your fault. I know you did your best, better than anyone could.” He gave Will a nudge in the side.
“Why would anyone do that?” Amalia was on her feet.
Oy her volume. So much for keeping her hidden. He had to resist putting his hand over her mouth. He settled for a small shush. Which she promptly ignored. The woman recovered quickly. She’d even somehow managed to tidy her garments—neat and pressed and ready for action.
“Someone couldn’t risk all those people’s lives to kill me?” Amalia tossed her hair.
Meg was the one who shushed her this time, and she reluctantly obliged, lowering her voice a smidge. “Why?”
“We don’t know.” David tugged at his hair. “But we’ll find out.” He ran his tongue over his teeth as a map lit in his mind, each marker representing part of the task, the job, just like when he was working on a mission for the army. He turned to his partners. “Question as many people as you can here and get that information to Indianapolis as soon as possible. Afterwards, meet me in Delaware. If you arrive first, start coordinating with whatever security the Truitts already have in place.”
“We’re going to travel by rail and you’re not?” Meg knit her brow.
“Exactly. Well, not on the Pennsylvania.” David nodded. “We’re going to cut through the woods and get ourselves on another line.”
“Wait, we’re going to walk?” In other circumstances, the note of panic in Amalia’s voice at the prospect of walking would’ve been humorous—fine it was still humorous, even if a small voice in the back of his head warned him that the woman might try to make him carry her like a packhorse. Though to have her arms around his neck, her soft skin next to his... No, stop. He needed to focus, execute his plan.
David tugged at his collar, loosening his tie, and undoing the top button. “It won’t be that far. Probably only a few hours, a day at most.”
“A day? A day, walking, in this?” Amalia shook her dress.
“It’s the safest way.” It really was. A smart, solid plan. No one would suspect them on foot. They’d lose whomever was after them. Easy. “You still have some money on you?”
Amalia nodded and held up her black valise.
“Good. I’m sure we’ll get to a town soon, find a hotel and a train station, different line, throw them off our trail.” David glanced at Amalia who’d paled. “Don’t tell me you’re not up to it?”
“I’m up to it.” She balled her hands into fists and laid them on her hips, drawing his eye to her rather fetching, well, everything. “I just liked this dress, that’s all.”
“Oh, you were never going to wear it again anyway.” Amalia’s mouth fell open in a surprised “O.” David shrugged. “I’ve read your column, remember? I know you can’t wash gowns that complicated. Once it gets wet, all the construction goes so you either have to remake it, or sell the fabric to someone in my former profession.” He reached out and straightened her still starched lace collar.
Amalia blushed a little, but leaned closer to him. How did she still smell of magnolias after they’d crawled through smoke and grass and god-only-knew what else?
“We should head out.” Will coughed, before giving David a firm pat on the shoulder. “Be safe.” His partner tipped his hat to Amalia, while Meg gave her a pat on the shoulder. She nodded back at both of them, before they slipped through the trees and back into the fray.
Once his friends were out of sight Amalia turned to him, hands on her hips. “What are we standing here for?”
“Um...” He blinked at her.
“You know as well as I do, whomever is after you could be lurking around. We can’t let these people be hurt because of me.” She waved a hand at the crowd and his heart swelled a little.
The woman was uncanny. Tough wasn’t half of it. After all she’d been through, the injuries, the ex-husbands, she still managed to be concerned about the safety of strangers. Even at a time like this. There was just no way she was behind the threats herself. Meg was wrong.
He slipped her good hand into his. The fit was so nice. No, he couldn’t think of that. Task at hand. Mission. Execute. David lowered his voice. “That’s why we’re leaving now. To stay safe while I sort this all out.” He inclined his head. “This way, and duck down a little.”
Amalia obeyed and he braced himself before he whispered in her ear. “And run.”
* * *
Four hours later, the running had become walking, or more trudging. David’s back, legs, and shoulders screamed and ached under the afternoon blaze.
“Hot. It’s very hot.” Amalia mopped her brow with the already soaked glove she’d made him remove an hour ago. Good thing he did. She’d burst three stitches freeing him on the train. No infection...yet.
“And humid.” He forged a path with his boot in the long grass of the meadow they’d been traversing for what had to be at least four miles. “But it’s better without gear.”
Guilt gnawed at him. She shouldn’t have helped him. Shouldn’t have had to. She was his responsibility, damn it. He was the team leader.
“You have my bag.” Amalia was at his side again, stroking the leather. It’d been such a headache to take from her—she might rival him in stubbornness, if that was possible—but she’d been struggling to toggle it plus lift her long skirts so she finally had to acquiesce.
“Not the same.” He shifted the case on his shoulder. Mercy, it was heavy. What exactly did she have in it? Hopefully something to eat. And maybe matches.
“I suppose not.” Amalia matched his steps as they slogged farther towards a grove of trees at the horizon. “Both my brothers did this with packs and wool?”
David’s innards twisted at the memory of those early days, before they’d all seen what they saw. When they were all innocent. “Yes. They marched for days. In sun and snow, and we slept on fields—”
“Why did you fight?” Amalia laid a hand on his shoulder. “I mean, you’d just come to this country when you joined up and I know you found slavery abhorrent, because it was, but fight? After you escaped the Russian army?”
He didn’t answer.
“I’m sorry. That was impolite.” He didn’t need to glance at her. He could picture her flushed cheeks and the hint of guilt on her face that made him want to apologize even though he’d done nothing wrong.
“Your father asked me the same thing.” He rubbed his shoulder with his free hand before sticking it in his pocket.
“Oh.” She ducked her head a little at that. “I’m really sorry now.”
“For what?” He drew out the words because a note in her tone prickled the hair on the back of his neck again. David clutched the handle tighter. He needed to listen, not puff up in righteous indignation, no matter how tempting.
“Asking like that was unfair and accusatory.” She paused to glance upward. White puffs spread over the blue sky, muting the sun. David waited but Amalia said nothing else. He increased their pace as a warm wind rippled through the leaves, rustling her petticoats and even his half-stuck jacket. He should really remove it.
“He did it. Not you,” David finally managed to answer.
They’d reached the forest, a dense grove of ash and birch and pine against a climbing rock formation—somewhere between a full mountainside and a large hill. Almost reminiscent of...no, he wouldn’t remember that day, that part of Pennsylvania, much farther south.
“I was unfair too. Not in that way, but in others. And careless and reckless and impetuous. Not only with my future, but with your feelings.” She stopped at the edge of the tree line, next to the roots of a gnarled oak.
“More than reckless. I said s
ome things, things designed to hurt you that New Year’s. I implied that you weren’t good enough, not what I wanted, but that was a lie—a complete lie.” Amalia gazed up at him, her eyes dark in the shade. “I’m so sorry, David.”
His heart swelled. Those words, that confession, that apology, unknotted something deep within him. When she locked eyes with him, as if she was seeing him, all of him, once again. In that moment, he’d have given her anything, despite the past hurt. With those words, all could be unmuddled, somehow, that they could find a way forward even with their limitations. In that moment, they could really start anew.
“Because I did want you.” She swallowed. “Very much and you said things that made me question whether you felt the same way. And I looked at all of my siblings and wondered, why would you? I’m not beautiful and graceful like Roseanna. I’m not smart like Thad and my mother. I’m not charming like my father and you certainly know that I’m not kind like Simon was and I—”
Whatever Amalia was about to ramble was lost to the crack of lightning flashing across the sky.
David muttered a million curses in Yiddish and English under his breath as he shifted his mind back to what it did best. “All right.” He drew in a deep breath. “We are going to run towards the rocks. There has to be a small cave there.”
Amalia nodded as the wind whipped her hair. Thunder rumbled and the gray of the sky deepened. A sprinkle of rain landed on her forehead. In minutes they’d be in a deluge.
“While you run, grab any dry branches you can and protect them with your body—left hand only.” He squeezed her shoulder. “If you can’t don’t worry about it. No matter what though, stick with me.”
“I can do that.” Amalia’s voice was bolder and calmer than the paleness in her cheeks would suggest possible. “I promise.”
A droplet hit his nose. “All right,” he repeated. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Nineteen
Amalia rubbed her hands over the fire and glanced at David. Fashion dictated a trim and styling, but somehow the unkempt locks and shadow beard suited him. Either that, or all her senses were skewed when it came to David Zisskind. A longing stirred beneath her ribs. Probably, some combination of the two.
David threw another log on the blaze and scooted next to her. They huddled next to the wall of the narrow, fortunately animal-free cave. The space was almost too shallow to lie or stand in, and the two, along with the fire, made it a tight squeeze. Not an unpleasant position.
She picked at her muddy skirts, still wet despite the blaze. “I should get out of these.”
Without a word David rocked to his knees and settled behind her, working her buttons. He really would be the best lady’s maid. The heavy satin slid off her shoulders and he grazed her bare skin with his knuckles setting off a set of chills which had nothing to do with the cool evening air.
“Corset too?” he asked.
“Please.” She nodded. “All the way off.”
David’s hands froze. “Amalia, I already told you...”
“And I was about to tell you that you were wrong.” She tossed her hair so it hit him in the face. Hopefully, there were still traces of perfume in it, not just soot. Despite the boring color and stubborn texture, her tresses were thick enough that she didn’t need enhancements to make them seem fuller. “If it makes you more comfortable, you can throw your jacket over my shoulders.”
The rumpled garment lay in a heap next to the fire. Amalia swiveled around. David frowned. “I’m not going to win, am I?”
“It depends on how you define winning.” She licked her lips. “Come on, David. We’re in a cave, lost in the woods. Let’s pretend all the good reasons you have for not finishing what we started the other night don’t exist. Please?”
She held her breath and waited. Time stopped for a moment. Neither moved.
Her heart thudded against her ribs. He was going to reject her, wasn’t he? She opened her mouth, searching for a line to deflect the flirtation as a joke when mischief sparked in his eye and a slow smile spread on his lips. “All right, but no coat. I think I’d like to watch you in the firelight, in only, what? Stockings and knickers? Or are they drawers? Or bloomers?”
And that was all the inspiration she needed. Hands only shaking a little, she whipped off her unlaced corset and tossed it away. With her good hand, Amalia plucked her dress and petticoats from around her feet before adding them to the pile. “I’m going to call them ‘knickers’ today. I think that sounds naughtier.”
David rose. Everything, from her nipples to her toes, tightened in longing for his touch. He slid his thumbs beneath the edge of her bloomers, tugging her towards him so her bare chest was against his half-buttoned shirted.
Amalia moaned and scooted nearer so she could assure herself that he did indeed want her as much as she wanted him—or at least close to as much, because no one could want as much as she did in that moment. “Please, David.”
The damned tease paused and stepped back, releasing her, a slow smirk spreading over his features. “Please, what, Amalia? What do you want from me?”
“You know what I want.”
He tapped his chin with a single finger, a wrinkle forming on the bridge of his nose, just under his spectacles. “No, I don’t think I do. I think you’re going to have to ask.”
“Are you punishing me for making you carry my bag?” She wagged a finger at him. “Because I’ll have you know, you didn’t seem to mind when I pulled out the toast and muffins from this morning’s breakfast that I shoved in there.”
Something almost like a snicker erupted from David.
“What?” Her cheeks tingled, though that somehow didn’t diminish any of the other sensations coursing through her body. Her fingers itched to be tangled in his hair as he kissed down her neck, over her now bare flesh...
“Nothing, that’s just adorable, and a bit, well...” He tugged on his collar. Was he flushing? It was hard to tell in the darkness...but...he licked his lips. Oh to have them on her skin again, trailing down lower and lower.
David rubbed the back of his neck. “Is it wrong to say that some part of me finds that very...well...intriguing?”
“What?” Amalia might have gasped a little as she worked to force herself back into the conversation and out of her fantasies so she could make them realities, for all the time she had.
“The idea that every time you make me do something silly like carry a ridiculously oversized valise that doesn’t even match your gowns, I only touch you if you beg?” He folded his arms, as if he was waiting.
Beg? Truitts didn’t beg. Certainly not in these sort of circumstances. If anyone found out, what would they say? And yet... Amalia shivered—with desire, not horror.
“And you’ll do what I ask?” Please? Good lord, had she started already?
“Only the parts I deem reasonable and properly requested.” He grinned a little. “I’m the one running this operation, remember?” He was so darn proud of himself and it was so damned attractive. More than attractive, lust-inducing. Her body hummed as she prowled towards him, unable to resist.
“Now I’m one of your foot soldiers, like Will and Meg.” She swiveled her hips a little. David crooked a finger at her and spread his legs so she could stand between them.
“Something like that.” He reached around and grabbed her bottom so she couldn’t help but whimper his name. “Though you have much more attractive feet. I have it on good authority that Will has bunions.”
She wrinkled her nose, but reached out to stroke that stray lock of hair that always fell on his brow. However, he grasped her wrist with one hand and held her in place with the other, so near, but so far.
“Not so fast. You haven’t asked anything.” He raised a brow. “I’m waiting, Amalia. In truth, I really shouldn’t even be touching you yet. You cheated last time, guiding my hand, but tonight, I need the words, all of th
em, with ‘pleases.’” He leaned back against the cave wall, his shirt gapping more. “So let’s hear it.”
Amalia would’ve rolled her eyes, but couldn’t muster the indignation, especially as something else vibrated under the surface, something akin to excitement at the prospect of being this, well, naughty, once again, with David. Everyone in Delaware would just about die if they knew how much this made her want to moan and writhe.
He was so magnetic and in the alternate reality of the cave, in between lives, there was nothing she could possibly need or want more. She bit her lip and inhaled a deep breath. “Please let me kneel, right here, and do what I was about to do the other night, what we did that night in Delaware, but with my mouth. With your hands in my hair, guiding me. Please.”
“Is that all?” David reached up and wound one of her stray ringlets around his finger, tugging her towards him again. Amalia’s toes curled and she near swooned into him. He steadied her again with the firm hand on her backside as her core heated with need.
She swallowed. “Um...there are condoms in the bag. They go over your...and prevent disease and...”
David chuckled. “I know what a condom is. Army, remember? Short on experience, not on knowledge.” That confidence, that damned-near arrogant, probably insane confidence, that made him cross oceans and charge into battle, and come back into her train car, head high after everything that happened between them, did her in every time. “And I don’t think you requested anything regarding those yet.”
“Well, if you let me get one, may I please put it on you and, will you please...” Amalia squirmed against him because if maybe he could feel her need, he’d hurry up and stop this delicious charade and start already.
“Will I please what?” David released her wrist, so he could remove his spectacles and place them atop their shared, discarded garments.
Amalia near danced. Close. So close. “Please finish inside me. Touching me, everywhere.” Her voice came as a husky whisper.
Dalliances & Devotion Page 18