She heard the rustle of covers, the creak of a bed. "What's wrong, Elvira?"
"Nothing."
"Can't you sleep?"
"No."
"Neither can I."
The attack had made them late leaving that morning, and Luke had driven them hard all day to make up the lost time. Valeria decided he cared more about the loss of time than he did about the death of the stranger or the injuries to her servants. Valeria tried to tell him that palace servants weren't used to being attacked by Indians. Zeke had said anyone stupid enough to run into the path of a bullet ought to get shot. If they hadn't had different colored skin, Valeria could have believed Luke and Zeke were blood brothers.
"Is Luke still outside the tent?" Valeria asked. "He said he would be," Elvira replied. "Go look."
Despite the attack, the most powerful image in her mind was that of Luke sleeping on the ground in front of her tent. She knew there was a wall of canvas and several feet of space between them, but it felt like he was so near she could reach out and touch him.
And he could touch her.
"Don't light the lamp," Valeria warned Elvira. "I don't want him to think we're spying on him."
Spying wasn't quite the way to put it. She didn't want him to know she was even thinking of him. He never hesitated to take advantage of his experience and knowledge to make her look vain and foolish. If he thought she had any personal interest in him, he'd probably make her life miserable.
"I can't see him," Elvira whispered.
Even though she had argued on three separate occasions during the day against his sleeping outside her tent, Valeria felt hurt and disappointed that he hadn't thought her safety important enough to keep his promise.
"Open the tent and look out," Valeria said.
"I can't."
"Why?"
"I'm scared."
It wasn't fair to make Elvira look for Luke. If Valeria wanted to know where he was, she ought to have the courage to look for herself.
"Never mind," Valeria said. "Get back in bed."
Elvira scurried across the tent so quickly, Valeria couldn't help smiling. She got out of bed and reached for a dressing gown.
"I don't think you ought to go outside," Elvira asked.
"I'm not. I'll just stick my head out. It'll only take a second."
She opened the flap, stuck her head out, then stifled a scream. She found herself practically nose to nose with Luke.
Chapter Eleven
"Do you need to take care of nature's call?" Luke asked.
Valeria couldn't answer. Other than jerking back instinctively when she found herself face-to-face with Luke, she couldn't move. Not even the incredible, inconceivable, ridiculous notion that she should seek relief among the grass and thorns had the power to unlock her tongue.
"You can't go wandering off by yourself," Luke said. "No telling what kind of critter you might stumble over."
It was impossible even to consider discussing such an eventuality with a man.
"Oh, God, you're sleepwalking," Luke exclaimed. "You're about to go wandering around in the middle of the Arizona desert without knowing what the hell you're doing. I'll slit Hans's throat. He didn't breathe a word about this."
Luke took her by the shoulders, turned her around, and gave her a tiny push. She stumbled forward.
"Elvira, put her to bed," Luke hissed, "and don't let her get up again."
Luke withdrew his head and closed the flap on the tent.
Valeria felt the tension leave her body so completely, she wasn't sure she had the strength to make it to her bed. She stumbled forward and collapsed with a sigh of relief. Luke hadn't ignored her. He hadn't gone back on his promise. He'd been so vigilant he'd known the instant she opened the tent flap.
As she pulled the covers over her and settled back into bed, a smile curved her lips.
"There's nothing I can do but take the wheel apart and rebuild it," the driver said.
Luke had spent the last half hour airing his entire lexicon of curses. He'd even invented a few. But nothing could change the fact that the wagon's wheel was broken, and it would take most of the day to fix it. They'd left camp barely an hour earlier and traveled less than a mile. Their day was over. They'd eat more from their dwindling stores of food and exhaust more of his patience without getting a mile closer to their goal.
"The rest of you might as well pull your wagons under the trees," Luke told the gathered drivers. "It'll be hot today."
"It's hot every day," Otto said. He'd complained about the inferior quality of American wagons, the fact that there didn't appear to be a single proper road in the entire country, said he hadn't been this hot when he lived in Egypt.
Luke ignored Otto. "Hawk, you want to see if you can find a deer?"
Hawk nodded.
"That means all of us have to be extra watchful," Luke said. "The only time we were attacked was when one of us went out hunting."
"Do you think they're watching?" Otto asked. He seemed almost hopeful.
"No," Luke said, "but I don't intend to be caught off guard again."
It didn't take long to pull the wagons down to the river and unhitch the mules. They could use a day's rest. They were big, strong animals, but the extremely difficult terrain and the heavy wagons had taken a toll on their strength. If it had been up to Luke, he'd have dumped half that stuff days ago.
He watched as Valeria's servants set up her tent in the shade of the cottonwoods. He wondered how a woman used to having a whole palace to herself could accustom herself to a tent, but she had adapted much more quickly than her maid. Hans tried, but the little man struggled with the heat, the strangeness of the situation, and his fear of something happening to his beloved princess. He simply didn't have a mind that could stretch far enough to envision a social system different from the one he'd been born into. Valeria would always be a royal princess to him, worthy of devotion, obedience, and reverence. Luke couldn't figure out what Valeria or her family could have done to warrant such devotion.
His thoughts broke off when Valeria, after looking over her shoulder and noticing him looking her way, said something to Elvira and started toward him. He was tempted to turn away, but that would have been an admission of weakness he wasn't ready to make even to himself.
"Are we definitely going to be here all day?" Valeria asked when she reached him.
"It looks that way."
"I want to ride to that mountain," she said, pointing to one of the sky mountains that rose straight up from the desert floor.
"The closest one is at least ten miles away." "How long would it take to get there?"
"Maybe two hours with another hour or so to climb high enough to notice a difference in the temperature." "We've got all day."
"It's a very exhausting ride, and I couldn't allow you to go alone."
"I wasn't planning on going alone. I was hoping you would take me."
He didn't want to take her anywhere. He certainly didn't want to spend an entire day alone with her.
"You don't have a suitable horse."
"She's not using my horse," Zeke said, "even if I am going to be stuck here all day."
"I have my own horses," Valeria said. "They're not used to the desert."
"They're used to mountains," Valeria said. "That's about all we have in my country."
"I shouldn't leave the camp," Luke said.
"Your job is to protect me. Since I'll be with you, you can still do your job."
"Such a trip will expose you to danger."
"Does that mean you're unable to protect me without all these men to help you?"
Zeke let out a crack of laughter. Several of the drivers grinned. Luke acted as if he didn't see them. "I don't need anyone's help to do my job."
"Good. The land looks flat," she said. "We can see anyone coming from miles away."
"There are lots of breaks in the land-dry washes, ravines, low hills-"
"Do you dislike me that much, or are you afraid to
ride with me?"
Luke felt all eyes focus on him. "No." "Good, because I'm going for a ride."
Valeria had never been so hot in her life. If Luke had made the slightest attempt to be friendly, she'd have admitted her mistake and asked him to take her back to camp and the coolness of the cottonwoods. She even considered turning around and starting back by herself. It was impossible to miss the San Pedro River. It formed the only ribbon of green in the desert landscape.
But she wouldn't turn back if she fainted or her nose burned so badly it peeled. He'd been rude, talked as little as possible, and made it abundantly clear he'd rather be almost anywhere than by her side. Besides, they'd been climbing for the last hour and she'd finally begun to notice a drop in the temperature.
"The mountains in our country are more beautiful than these." She'd said as much before but had received little more than a grunt for her trouble. "They're covered with pine and fir trees that give the woods a wonderful scent. They have beautiful meadows filled with wildflowers in the spring."
"We have mountains in Colorado like that," he said. "Where's Colorado?"
"North of here."
That was good. Anything north sounded cooler. "Is it very far?"
"Five or six hundred miles, depending on where you want to go."
Her entire country was less than thirty miles from one end to the other. She could barely conceive of a country big enough to have all these states and each one so large.
"We have snow on our mountains in winter."
"There are snow-covered mountains in any one of a dozen states."
"We can ice skate on the ponds and rivers." It had been unbearably hot every step of the way from New Orleans to San Antonio and El Paso to Arizona. She couldn't imagine any place in America getting cold enough to freeze ponds and rivers.
"We have lakes bigger than your whole country that freeze up for the winter."
She really didn't want to hear any more about the geography of America, its flora and fauna. That was all Luke would talk about except for saying that her horse seemed remarkably surefooted for a hot-blooded animal.
"He's a thoroughbred," she'd explained.
"They're fast but high strung," he said. "They wouldn't be any good on treacherous mountain trails or around cougars."
Then he'd gone right back to talking about cactus, poisonous snakes, and the Indians that used to roam the area.
"Why did you go to Europe?" she asked, interrupting a monologue on the various kinds of plants found at different altitudes.
"I went there to work." "Guarding people?" "To fight."
"In the infantry?" "I was an officer." "A mercenary." "Yes."
No one liked mercenaries. They were foreigners, cold blooded, and often cruel. They fought for money alone, not ideals, principles, or the people. "Where did you fight?" "Everywhere."
"Why didn't you stay?"
"I didn't like the people who hired me."
At least he had a conscience somewhere inside him, even if he kept it well out of sight.
"Which side did you fight for?"
"The one that paid the most money."
"That means you fought for some king. I thought you said you hated kings."
"I do."
"But you'll fight for the person who pays you the most money."
"That's right."
"Regardless of what the fight is about." "Yes."
"Don't you care about the people in the conflict?"
"No."
They had just left an area of oak, juniper, and manzanita. Squirrels and chipmunks scampered across the rocky ground while jays and hawks called noisily from above. She half-expected Luke to shoot one of the whitetailed deer they spotted, but he didn't appear to notice the inquisitive animals.
She welcomed the drop in temperature that came when they entered a forest of ponderosa pine. She was delighted by a pair of turkeys ambling through the dappled light of the forest floor, their new chicks running ahead of them, eager to explore every aspect of their new world. It was beginning to look more like her own country. Luke had said Rudolf's ranch was in mountainous country full of trees. She hoped it would look like this.
The narrow trail forced them to ride single file. She had a prolonged view of his broad back, the powerful hindquarters of his horse as they rose and fell. She liked her sleek, racy mount, but she liked the look of Luke's more powerfully muscled horse. She'd ask him to let her ride it one day.
"How long does the trail stay like this?" she called out.
"I don't know."
That startled her. "You mean you don't know this road?"
"There are far too many trails in the West for any one man to know. You learn to trust your instincts."
"And your instincts say this trail is safe?"
"It's been worn smooth by wild animals. That means it's a good route to somewhere."
"Where?"
"Wherever they go for food or shelter."
The forest had changed to pine, aspen, and fir. A thick carpet of needles muffled the sound of their horses' hooves, and Valeria became more aware of the sounds around her, the squawk of goshawks calling among the treetops, the chatter of squirrels, the scratching of some animal as it dug under the straw for grubs, the whirr of hummingbird wings among flowers that had sprung up in every opening between the trees. It reminded her of her youth when she'd been allowed to take long rides in the forest or go on picnics and long walks. All that had ceased when she reached marriageable age. She'd forgotten how much she enjoyed the freedom to wander through the outdoors, unconcerned about the safety of her clothes or her skin.
"We'd better stop here," Luke said. "We'll have to start back soon."
They'd reached a small, blessedly cool section of the pine forest, the first time Valeria could remember being truly comfortable since she reached New Orleans. She knew there was no point in asking Luke to let them camp here for a few nights. It would have been impossible to bring the wagons up that trail.
Luke dismounted and dropped his reins. She expected to see his horse wander, but the animal stood perfectly still.
"Why doesn't he run away?" she asked. "He's ground hitched."
She'd never heard such a thing. Her mount would wander off at the first opportunity. Luke walked toward an opening in the forest. When he realized she wasn't following, he turned around.
"You'd better get down," he said. "Give your muscles a chance to relax."
"I can't dismount by myself."
She had ridden sidesaddle, the only way she knew, and couldn't dismount without help or a set of steps.
"Just unhook your leg and slide out of the saddle," Luke said.
"I can't. You have to lift me down."
He glared at her for a moment, his expression hard and unfriendly. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have suggested we stop."
"Well, we have, and I'd like to get down."
He hesitated so long she thought he might refuse. Then he stalked toward her.
"Stop!" she exclaimed when he seemed about to wrench her from the saddle. "You can't snatch me off like a sack of grain. You have to hold me while I unhook my leg."
Again he paused. She didn't understand his reluctance. He might not like royalty, but he didn't have to act as if touching her would infect him with some incurable disease. As though making a sudden resolution, he placed his hands on her waist and lifted her out of the saddle.
"Can you free your leg now?" he asked.
"Yes." He'd lifted her straight up off the horn. "You can let me down now."
But he didn't. He continued to hold her in the air as if she weighed hardly anything.
"Let me down."
"I just wanted to show you what it's like not to feel in control of your life."
"I've never been in control," she said, "not from the first breath I took. Now please let me down."
He lowered her slowly. Again the effort seemed to cost him nothing.
"Come over here," he said, indicating a break in th
e trees. "You can see where you've been."
Valeria gathered her composure as best she could. She refused to be overwhelmed just because the man was strong. That was foolish. An ox was strong and she had absolutely no admiration for an ox. But she couldn't deny that she had come perilously close to being dazzled by Luke Attmore. He said he'd never had much effect on women. His indifference to people in general had probably kept him from seeing it. And women, recognizing his remoteness, had probably done their best to get over him as quickly as possible. The best way for her to do that would be not to see him again.
But she had to see him every day for the duration of this trip, and could watch him without interruption for hours on end. Since he was the primary topic of conversation among Elvira, Hans, and Otto, there was little chance she'd be allowed to put thoughts of him out of her mind.
It shouldn't have been that hard. All her life she'd disciplined herself to think only of acceptable things. But everything had changed. She'd been away from her uncle for several months, and though Otto and Hans were in charge of her journey, she had some real freedom for the first time. Not that it did her much good. Luke controlled her just as absolutely as her uncle ever had. Still, the sense of being out from under her uncle's control and the responsibilities of her position as princess was real. Being around Luke only made that feeling more acute. He made her question things she'd taken for granted, things she'd done because she was supposed to do them, because a princess of Belgravia had always done them.
Cowboys 08 - Luke Page 13