Midnight Secrets

by Janelle Taylor

  The women gathered near camp, some reluctant about this class. But even with scowls or pouts, everyone listened to Steve’s instructions about how to fight and defend oneself. When he asked for a volunteer to help him demonstrate several ways to respond to an attack and to gain escape, Cathy King almost leapt forward with eagerness for contact with him.

  Ginny observed as Cathy giggled and practically fondled Steve as he showed them what to do if someone grabbed them. She fumed more and more as time passed.

  When Steve had finished his demonstration, he turned to the women. “The secret is to be quick, to take your attacker off guard and by surprise. If you can’t find something nearby to use as a weapon to club him with, react fast and flee… Who’s next?”

  As if by prearranged signal, Ellie, Lucy, Ruby, and Mary pushed Ginny into the human circle and shouted, “You, Anna.”

  Ginny balked and protested, “I paid attention; I don’t need to do it.”

  “If she doesn’t want to, Steve, I’ll continue to be your target,” Cathy said coyly.

  “That’s all right, Mrs. King, but thank you anyhow. Come and give me a try, Miss Avery. Prove you wouldn’t be helpless and vulnerable if you were to be attacked.”

  Ginny was challenged to make an attempt to best the grinning man. She prayed she could do it, but the supplication wasn’t heard above. As she tried to do as Steve had instructed and shown, she was tossed to the ground and pinned there with a knee to the small of her back while he roped her like a calf for branding. With her hands and feet bound behind her and lying on her stomach, she was relieved she was wearing pants today, thanks to- Charles Avery’s generosity. She wanted to scream curses at the chuckling man but refused to be goaded into bad behavior before others.

  Steve withdrew the knife from his boot and sliced through the short rope he had snatched from around one gunbutt and used to capture the now-infuriated woman with blazing eyes. “See, without training and practice, you can be taken quick and easy by a determined man. Try me again.”

  Ginny tried to entangle his ankle and flip him over her shoulder. She found herself lying on the ground with Steve straddling her and his hands imprisoning her wrists to the hard earth. She felt his knees touching her sides and was staring up into a cocky—seductive?-—expression. She wanted to shriek for him to get off her! She knew no one could see his face, the look he was giving her. For a crazy instant, she wished they were alone and wished he would lower his body to hers and… Turbulence raced through her as she feared he was playing with her, trying to humiliate her in front’ of the others. She narrowed and chilled her gaze.

  Steve was inflamed by the contact, by the way she first looked at him. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, and her chest rose and fell from exertion, straining against the taut material of her shirt. Perspiration gleamed on her exquisite face, and she was dusty. Her hair was flared around her head like a light-brown pillow. Shu, what he would give to bend forward and kiss that parted mouth. He would give even more to rest his body atop and within hers. He had stalled her release too long, so he stood and pulled her up with him. “Try me again.”

  “This isn’t a fair test, Mr. Carr. You’re on alert, whereas you said our real opponents wouldn’t be. How can I take you by surprise when you’re awaiting my attack and prepared to parry it?” Before he could answer, Ginny lowered her chin as if to catch her breath and calm her anger. The moment Steve relaxed, she lunged forward and slammed him in the gut with her head, knocking him to the ground. She fled to the safety of the ring of women and turned to gloat at him for her clever escape.

  Steve looked at her from his seat on the grass and said without smiling, “See, even a man on guard can be fooled and beaten. Who’s next?”

  When it was time to break for lunch, everyone had practiced with Steve. As Ginny headed for her wagon to wash up for the meal, the roguish scout caught up with her and murmured in a tone only she could hear, “You need a bath, Miss Avery; you’re a mite dirty and sweaty after scuffling with me.”

  Don’t let him provoke you to say or do something foolish, Ginny. “You’re right, as always, but it will have to wait until this evening. If I’m late for afternoon class, I’ll be curtly scolded,” she retorted and kept walking.

  Steve dropped by the Davis campsite before her arrival to thank Ellie for the food she had left for him last night, which had included apple pie.’

  “It wasn’t me, Mr. Carr; it was Anna. Her father brought it to her. Since she eats with us, she gave it to you. She’s a kind and thoughtful young woman. She’s really trying hard to do good with her lessons. It must be terribly hard for a girl who hasn’t had a mother to teach her much, and she’s been away from home and her father for so long. She’s lived such a sheltered existence, so this challenge must be difficult for her.”

  “You’re probably right, ma’am. Thank her for me, will you?”

  “It would mean more to her if it came from you,” Ellie suggested, as she sensed the attraction between them and thought them a good match.

  He nodded and left. He wondered why Anna would do such a kindness and keep it a secret. Wouldn’t she want the credit? Of course, he mused, she figured he’d seek out the thoughtful person and discover it was her! She was a sly and wily female after all.

  That afternoon they walked for three hot and tiring miles. Ginny passed Steve as she entered camp and refused to glance his way or speak. She told herself that maybe he couldn’t decide how he felt or how to behave. If she ignored him for a while, maybe that would coerce a decision from him.

  Dark, threatening clouds moved overhead before meals were cooked and served and evening chores were done. The wind increased in force and intent; it yanked at limbs, clothes, hair, and canvases. A heaviness in the air warned of an imminent storm. Menacing rumbles said it would lash out at them any moment. Everyone hurried to prepare for its assault. Baths were skipped or taken swiftly. Possessions were either stored inside or placed underneath the wagon on waterproof cloths.

  Ginny took all the precautions with the animals and wagon she had learned. While she was checking and securing the mules’ ropes and stakes, the storm struck with a fury. A torrential rain poured down in a rush before she could finish and dash inside. The beasts were startled by the loud thunder and flashes of lightning. She patted and spoke soothingly to them until they calmed. When she turned to head for the wagon, she saw Steve running toward her, as drenched as she was.

  “Anything wrong?” he questioned, gazing at the water dripping from her face and at the soaked curls plastered to her face. Her shirt did the same clingy task on her chest but he pretended not to notice.

  She explained what she was doing over the loud and combined noises of rain, wind, and thunder. “I’m finished now and going inside.”

  “You don’t have your tarp on the front. A rain this heavy will seep inside and ruin things. I’ll help you.” He grasped her hand and pulled her to the wagon. He climbed onto the tongue, lifted the jockey box lid, and withdrew a large waterproof cloth. He showed her how to toss it over the box and seat, then secure it in place. The way he positioned one edge created a valley that allowed rain to run off left and right of the wooden bed. “Let’s get inside and see if anything needs moving out of the water.”

  Steve leapt aboard the tailgate, hauled her up as easily as lifting a feather, then closed the opening behind them. He saw that the center of the wagon was clear of obstacles, as she hadn’t put down her bedding yet. He moved forward and checked for puddles at the front. “Nothing to worry about, just a little damp.” He handed her several items that needed moving out of possible harm’s way if wind ripped the cover loose. “That should do it. You best get dried off and changed before a chill sets in.”

  “Thank you for the help. I’m sorry I didn’t know about the tarp.”

  “Think nothing of it, Miss Avery; it hasn’t been the subject of a lesson yet.”

  As they stepped over a crate, Ginny’s foot was snagged by the fastener and she lo
st her balance. Steve grabbed for her, and both began falling toward the back. The motion of their actions caused the bedding to topple to the floor before they reached it, softening their landing. Steve was half atop Ginny, so she was captive between him and the soft bedding.

  Steve chuckled and remarked as he patted the feather mattress, “That was good timing; or both of us might have been injured.”

  Ginny noticed that he didn’t move off her; nor did she push him aside. “Thank you for the rescue,” she murmured, unsettled and wary.

  “You’re welcome, Anna.” He pushed wet curls from her face as he smiled. “You’re soaked.”

  Ginny couldn’t help but smile in return. “So are you, Steve.”

  Without lifting his elbow from near her shoulder, he leaned his head forward and fingercombed his sable hair. “A mess, eh?”

  “No,” she heard herself murmur. His virile body felt like a copper bedwarmer on a wintry night. She couldn’t break his powerful hold on her gaze. His dark-brown eyes were glowing and his mood was entreating. It was almost as if she could hear them beckoning: Kiss me; love me, Ginny. Her eyes drifted over his rain-slick face and settled on his mouth.

  Steve observed her actions and felt her tremble. “Cold?” he asked, though he knew she wasn’t. He wondered if she realized he was also aquiver with desire. His body felt aflame. A curious tension held him rigid and refused to allow him to leave her. He knew that was what he should do, and pronto.

  Ginny’s hands rested against his broad chest. She felt his heart pounding against her fingertips and palms; it surprised and pleased her to have such a powerful effect on him. Her gaze was drawn back to his as she finally shook her head to his query. His mood was mellow and enthralling, as was his dark gaze. Almost against her will, her fingers seized his shirt and pulled him toward her.

  Steve responded to the unspoken invitation. His mouth covered hers and parted her lips. His fingers wiggled into her drenched hair, clasped her head, and held it still as his mouth worked hungrily at hers. A groan escaped his throat as he pressed closer and tighter against her. The lightning outside couldn’t be charged with more energy than he was.

  Ginny’s arms banded the dazing scout’s waist. She clung to him, stroked his back, and urgently returned his kiss. A surge of unfamiliar heat licked over her flesh. Love claimed and ruled her heart.

  A thunderbolt crashed loudly outside and vibrated the wagon. The mules nearby brayed in panic. Steve came to his senses and leaned away from Ginny. Her cheeks were flushed with passion and her eyes were glazed by it. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. If they weren’t in a camp filled with people—any one of whom could approach any second and discover this reckless scene—he would make her his. He would brand her with a love she would never forget, remove, or match.

  Ginny blushed as reality and his withdrawal destroyed the dreamy illusion. She didn’t know what to say or do; they had gotten carried away by desire. She recalled she had been the one to initiate it, to encourage it. What must he think about her, a so-called lady entreating… seduction?

  “I’ve been wondering for days what that would taste and feel like. You’ve learned your wiles well, Miss Avery; you’re one powerful temptation. I’d best get out of this hot box before we both say and do something foolish.”

  “You’re right, Mr. Carr. I apologize for… behaving so badly and rashly. You’re also a powerful temptation, and I’m unaccustomed to…” Surely he recognized an innocent without her admitting to being one. “I don’t know what possessed me to act that way,” she lied. “I’m ashamed and embarrassed. Please don’t tell Father I lost my wits.”

  “Don’t worry, Miss Avery, I won’t. He might horsewhip me for letting the situation get out of control. I promise it won’t happen again.” He told himself he was only inching closer to her because of his mission, and he dared his troubled mind or racing heart to argue with him.

  “Thank you, and I’ll also make certain it doesn’t.” She watched Steve loosen the cord and hop over the tailgate. She heard the thud and squish of his boots against the softening ground. She commanded herself to get up and resecure the opening against the bad weather.

  Ginny flopped down on the bedding and rested a forearm over her eyes. She had the urge to cry in frustration but fought it down. How could you have been so stupid, so wanton? You rebuke Cathy King, then behave as badly or worse. Whatever got into you, Virginia Marston? You’ve never acted like this before. Damn you, Steve Carr, you have too strong of a pull on me. I have to be extra careful around you in the future.

  When the storm lessened near dusk but still didn’t cease, tents of tarp were put up for cooking underneath. Grassy spots were chosen to cut down on mud. The men built fires, and ‘ smoke soon curled around the shelter’s edges. When the flames were right, meals were began by the women.

  Ginny put on a rain slicker and helped Ellie Davis as usual. She doubted anyone had seen Steve enter, remain too long, and depart her wagon; the storm had been in full force and all wagons had been closed tightly against its intrusion.

  As she worked, she wondered whether Steve was attracted to her and just being defensive, or if he had, as men were said to do, merely taken advantage of something offered, or if he truly wanted her to leave him alone. She was to blame for the heady incident, so she shouldn’t fault him for responding. Still, it would be unfair—was cruel—for him to play with her emotions, to abuse her weakness for him. She ordered herself to forget about Steve and the intoxicating moment for now.

  The scout was joining the Kings for supper. From the corner of her eye, she saw Steve and Cathy laughing and chatting. She couldn’t forget how the woman clearly craved him. Nor could she halt the flood of envy and jealousy that surged through her. It was almost as if Steve knew of her gaze upon him and was behaving that way on purpose. She should be angry but it tormented her.

  It rained most of the night, and Ginny slept little. Part of her restlessness had to do with the two Davis girls sleeping with her. They were active even in slumber and she was unaccustomed to bedmates. She had offered to let them stay so Ellie and the others would have more room inside their cluttered wagon where the weather had driven them. It had been a kindness that was taking its toll on her. As dawn approached, the weary Ginny was exhausted and tense.

  Ginny watched Steve chat with Cathy after breakfast. What difference did it make, she fumed, that the bold woman had approached him? That Steve didn’t say a few polite words and walk away as he should have to prevent suspicions in others, particularly in Ed King, who had to be blind or stupid not to be aware of his wife’s flirtation? Maybe the Kings wanted something special from the scout and Cathy was softening him up to get it.

  How far, she worried, had the relationship between Cathy and Steve been taken? Had they stolen kisses and caresses during walks when they were last to return or those times he had gone back to fetch her? Had Cathy sneaked into the woods to meet with him? Would Steve Carr do such a wicked and dangerous thing? Surely not, as he took his job too seriously and was too proud to risk humiliation.

  Besides, the virile male had spurned her in the wagon yesterday when she had practically begged him to seduce her. She had lost her wits and self-control, and he had been the one to use his to halt their behavior. Just because he didn’t want you that way doesn’t mean he doesn’t want Cathy. After all, she’s experienced and hot-blooded, you’re only— Stop it, Ginny; you’re letting this get to you too much.

  The next morning, Steve said, “Thanks to a timely rain, this is the perfect day to practice driving through and getting out of mud.” He gave them instructions before they hitched their teams and began the lesson.

  Since keeping the correct pace and avoiding perilous spots were the main two safety measures, Ginny paid the most attention to them.

  It was almost time for lunch. Once or twice they had halted to rehearse getting started again after a stop with wheels sunk into mire. Only a couple of women had gotten stuck or couldn’t get moving a
gain and had required Steve’s help. Neither of them was Cathy King who, Ginny assumed, was smart enough to realize she couldn’t be all over the scout all the time.

  They headed for rest and food. Two wagons became stuck in the overworked ground, as Steve had chosen a saturated dirt area that had been trampled by them into mush. One was Ginny’s, who tried her best to free the captive wagon so he wouldn’t have to help her in her foul mood.

  Steve sent the others onward to camp with Louise Jackson in charge. He helped the other woman first, as she wasn’t mired down as deeply.

  Before the scout reached Ginny, she took an ax and trudged through graspy earth to chop off pine limbs from nearby trees. She hauled them to the wagon, got down on her knees, and worked them around and under the captive rim; that would give it something to grip for pulling out of the mud hole. She had seen carriage drivers in England use this method. She was about to climb aboard to test her solution when Steve arrived.

  He looked at the draggled female, eyed her work, and said, “That’s clever, Miss Avery, but what if no tree limbs are around on a prairie?”

  Ginny mused a moment, then walked to the side. She ignored the mud she was getting on her hands and clothes to kneel and remove the limbs. She went to the front, opened the jockey box, and took out a hammer. She walked to the back and climbed inside, then unloaded a sturdy crate and shoved it to the ground. She didn’t say a word as she took the box apart and laid the hammer and nails on the tailgate. She used the wood slabs as she had the limbs. Within minutes, she was free, and no wooden piece had been broken, only one cracked a little. She hopped down—glad she was in pants and boots again today— and put the crate together again. She left it in the back to wash off the mud before replacing the items she had removed. When the hammer was returned to its location, she climbed aboard and said, “All done. See you in camp.”

  Steve had observed in silence. He was impressed by her quick wits. She was definitely learning how to take care of herself. As he watched her, he couldn’t get the passionate scene in her wagon off his mind. He had to make sure it happened again soon. He rode up beside her and unwisely teased, “You and your clothes will need a good scrubbing, Miss Avery. I’m surprised a lady would roll in the mud like that.”