“You’ve been a big help to them, too, Steve. And please don’t say, ‘It’s part of my job.’ Accept gratitude and compliments when they’re deserved.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, and chuckled. “You all right, Anna?”
“Of course. Why shouldn’t I be?” She glanced at him and smiled, as his tone and gaze waxed serious and concerned.
“Have you ever done anything you know was wrong or realized later it was; something you’re sorry for and wish you could change?”
Ginny stared at him as she tried to read his expression. Was he referring to their lovemaking? Was he seeking a kind way to reject her? “Not that I can think of on the spur of the moment. Have you?”
Steve noticed how she tensed and her smile faded. “I suppose an answer depends on who’s judging the situations. People have different opinions about what’s right and what’s wrong. Even Christians don’t honor their Ten Commandments all the time. They say not to kill and steal, but the North and South do it to each other, the whites and Negroes do it to each other, and the whites and Indians do it to each other out West. Some folks think it isn’t stealing if you take something from an enemy. The Brownses and Danielses say it’s a sin to work or have fun on Sunday, but they talk about hatred, revenge, and killing half the time. Where is the line drawn between right and wrong? Life can be a bad place to live with people stirring up more trouble.”
To understand, she asked, “Like the Klan and other secret groups?”
“Can’t really say. What do you think?”
Ginny assumed he was searching for anything to talk about except their feelings for each other. For now, let him. At least they were together. “I suppose the Klan has good and bad points.”
Why mention only that one? “Would you side with them?”
“Me? Not unless I had a strong motive for doing so.”
“Lots of folks think they do. It’s expanding and spreading.”
Ginny locked her gaze with his. “That worries you, Steve? Do you think they’ll give us trouble along the way?”
“I hope not.”
“Why should they? We’re Southerners escaping Yankee perils.”
“Innocents get injured and killed during a war, Anna, and the Klan has declared war on their conquerors.”
“Somehow I can’t believe Southerners would attack loyal Southerners.”
“Like you believe Galvanized Yankees aren’t traitors and cowards to be hunted down and punished by Klan members?”
Did he know who she was? Who her real father was? Was he tracking down Virginia and Mathew Marston for… Surely not. Her father’s enemy couldn’t know she’d be on this wagontrain or even back in America! And surely he wasn’t a secret Klansman seeking “traitors and cowards” to slay in revenge! “Of course they aren’t. Why would you think of them?”
Steve noticed her change of tone and expression, as if fear and doubt of him had entered her mind. Odd… “It jumped into my head while I was making crazy talk to keep me distracted from you.” He grinned wryly.
Ginny relaxed but wasn’t sure he told the truth. “Ah, yes, I do recall you don’t like distractions. That means I certainly don’t want to be one.”
“But you are, woman. A big one.”
“I’m sorry. What can I do to correct my innocent mistake?”
Steve drifted his gaze over her silky hair and skin. He yearned to stroke them. “Be patient and understanding while I work out a few things.”
Ginny read desire in that almost-black gaze, and she warmed with it herself. “Don’t pull you closer but don’t repel you, either?”
Steve’s hands itched to touch her. “You’re smart, Anna; thanks.”
“I’m trying to be, Steve. It’s hard at times because I miss you.”
“Miss me? But I’m around every day. My mind couldn’t be any closer to you.”
She wanted to ask, What about your heart? “The same is true for me.”
“Then we’re both in good shape or in deep trouble.”
Ginny laughed and replied, “That’s an unusual way to put it, but I get your meaning, and you’re right…Now I have to go see if Mary needs anything before bedtime. It’s getting dark.”
Steve hadn’t noticed; he’d been too absorbed with her. “I’ll walk you back to your wagon.”
“Is that a wise idea?”
“Probably not, but I’ll do it anyway.”
She gathered her things and returned to camp at her lover’s side. “Good-bye, Steve.”
That word twisted his gut. “You mean, good night, don’t you?”
“Every time we part, it’s like a short and painful good-bye.”
“One day… Good night, Anna.”
Ginny watched his retreat. One day we won’t have to say good-bye?
Crossing the wide, deep, and swift Alabama River the next morning was slow and treacherous work. So was crossing the Tombigbee River two days later. Without bridges or hired helpers at either site, the wheels and possessions had to be removed, the wagons floated across, the goods and mules and people rafted over, and everything replaced. Under the supervision of Steve and Luther, the travelers worked in groups to speed up the task. Nothing went wrong, and the scout gathered no clues for his mission.
For a time, the terrain was swampy as they journeyed over hills and “lumpy” land, as Charles called it. They traveled to the state line, having traversed two hundred miles across Alabama in ten days. They camped there for an extra day for rest, chores, and repairs.
Ginny was delighted by the lengthy stop, which gave Steve the opportunity to eat dinner with them one night. Afterward, he remained to play cards and chat with Charles. She even fried fruit fritters from canned Georgia peaches for the men to enjoy as dessert with steaming, rich coffee.
Both men smiled and complimented her, and she beamed with joy and pride. She observed Steve as he visited with Charles. Every day she came to love, want, and need him more and more. She savored his friendship and glowed under his glances. Two states down, she told herself, and two and a third to go before parting or committing.
A new state came. Mississippi was much like Georgia and Alabama: pines and oaks, red clay, rich vegetation, mostly flatland with an occasional rolling hill, and many streams.
On the third day in the lush area, trouble struck.
Charles felt the jolt as a rear wheel dropped hard into a deep pothole and he heard weakened wood snap. He pulled out of line and halted his team, then he leapt down and looked at the damage: two busted spokes. He knew a change was needed or the unsupported area of rim would bend. He yelled to the last wagon driver, “Keep going, Carl; Anna and I will change the wheel and catch up by camptime. You won’t be far ahead.”
Carl Murphy nodded and continued on without stopping to help.
Ginny eyed the damage. “We can do it; Steve taught us how.”
They worked swiftly to unload everything heavy. They moved light things aside to reach the extra wheel and jack. Charles positioned the jack beneath the axle and began turning the crank to lift the wagonbed.
Steve glanced back and saw the Avery wagon off to the side of the rutted trail. He told Luther Beams to continue onward while he went back to help them, as camp was less than an hour away. He galloped to the location and dismounted. “You should have signaled me.”
“I was afraid gunfire might spook the teams. We have rifles nearby,” he said, pointing to two on the ground. “Anna said you’d trained her to help out, so I figured we could change it and join you in camp.”
“She’s right, but it’s dangerous to be too busy to stand guard.”
They changed the wheel and reloaded the wagon. Ginny had to relieve herself before heading out and entered the woods to do so.
Within minutes, Charles and the scout heard a scream, then her voice shouting, “Steve, help me!”
“Get your rifle! Guard the wagon while I see what’s wrong. Stay here!” Steve ordered, drawing his pistols and racing into the forest.
<
br /> Charles wondered if it was a cunning trick by Ginny to get Steve alone. He’d do as told until someone shouted for assistance.
Steve was frantic as he headed toward her, yelling he was on the way to rescue her. He saw her backing away from a log positioned between them, her face pale and her wide gaze on the ground. He heard the reason why: a timber rattler. “Don’t move, Anna,” he commanded and was relieved to see her obey. He turned and shouted to Charles, “A snake, but don’t worry. I’ll get him.”
Charles grinned and mentally thanked the crawly creature. He leaned against the wagon to savor what he hoped was a lengthy wait.
Steve reholstered one of his pistols. He killed the snake with the other, then bent to remove its rattlers with his knife. He stuffed them into a shirt pocket before joining the trembling woman. “Are you all right?” he asked gently.
She watched him wipe the snake’s blood on his fingers onto his pants leg. “I am now. I was going to skirt him, but he moved right or left every time I did. I was afraid he was going to take off after me.”
“They do that sometimes when you spook them.” He pulled her into his arms to comfort her, overwhelmed by desire for her.
His mouth closed over hers, and she responded eagerly. One kiss fused into another until both were breathless and quivering with a need for more. They dared not lose their wits, as time was short. They kissed and embraced a final time, then parted with reluctance.
“Shu, woman, what you do to me,” he said in a ragged voice.
“And what you do to me, Steve Carr,” she responded with a smile.
In camp, Mary Wiggins met them. “You two are joining us for supper. It’s the least I can do to repay all the wonderful care you gave me.”
Ginny and Charles ate with the Wigginses while Steve ate with the Davises. The yearning couple didn’t speak again that night, and very little during the next two days before they camped south of Jackson.
Charles suggested they visit a hotel in town for relaxation, and Ginny readily agreed, as Steve was going into town himself.
It was ten o’clock when Steve approached her room. He was dismayed that a telegram from the Texas agent said he’d been delayed in his task and to expect an answer when he reached Vicksburg in three days. The troubled man knew it was reckless, but he had to see and hold her tonight.
Ginny responded to the soft knock at her door, assuming and hoping it was Steve. She smiled when she saw him. “I’m glad you came,” she whispered, and pulled him inside the room.
“I brought you a present, something for protection.” He held out a small derringer in a miniature holster. At her confusion, he explained, “It straps to your thigh or calf for concealment. It’s always better if an enemy doesn’t know you’re armed. Wear it every day, Anna. Please.”
His concern touched her deeply. “Why don’t you show me how to strap it on?” she suggested, lifting her nightgown to above her knees.
Their gazes meshed and both knew what they wanted to’ show each other.
CHAPTER 10
“You can strap the derringer on here,” he began, securing the short belt to her shapely calf, “so you can reach under your skirt or pants to grab it quickly when needed. Or,” he continued as he unfastened the buckle, “you can put it here.” With quivering fingers, the scout placed the small holster a few inches above her knee. “A dress will hide it, and you can get to the pistol easily.” His hand remained on her silky thigh.
Ginny withdrew the derringer, studied the weapon, and reholstered it. She kept her foot propped on the bed so he wouldn’t move his hand away. “That’s very clever. Thank you, Steve.”
He pulled a box of low-caliber cartridges from his vest and held them out to her. “Here are the bullets for it. If you have a pocket in whatever you’re wearing at the time, keep a few extras handy. I have another box to use for target practice. I wanna make sure you can put a few holes in whatever you aim at.” When he saw the same expression he had during her weapons lesson, he added, “At least wound and stop an enemy if you can’t force yourself to kill one.”
Ginny undid the buckle and laid the holstered weapon on the table, along with its ammunition. “This is very kind of you, Steve, but I should pay you for it. You work hard for your money. I’ll ask Fa—”
“It’s a gift; and I can afford it. Didn’t cost much. Besides, Miss Avery, I did it for a selfish reason: I wanna be sure you stay safe and alive.”
“That kind of selfish is wonderful, my protective scout. The only present I have in return is this,” she murmured, and kissed him.
When it ended, she gazed into his eyes, as dark as night and as fiery as black coals. His nearness and touch were breathstealing. Her fingers traced his rugged features. “You’re the most handsome and irresistible man I’ve met, Steve Carr. You make me think and do crazy things. You have a powerful hold over me, and I don’t know whether to be happy about it or afraid.”
Steve stroked her flushed cheek and drifted his forefinger over her parted lips. “You do the same to me, woman.” His arms tightened around her body and his mouth covered hers. Exhilaration filled him.
Ginny knew she loved him and wanted to marry him, but was sure he wouldn’t consider such a dream until he worked through his troubles and resolved the reasons for his bitterness. This was perhaps the last time they could share intimacy before the journey ended; she needed to bond him to her as strongly as possible, to soften his heart and to open his mind’s eye to the reality of his feelings for her. A loner like Steve wouldn’t do and say such things as he had if they didn’t have deep meaning behind them. She had to get him past his fears so he’d recognize and accept the truth. She pressed tightly against him, kissing him with feverish desire and hugging him with soul-deep feelings.
Steve’s mouth feasted at hers with ravenous hunger. He also realized how short their remaining time together was, perhaps shorter than either of them knew. It was difficult not to yank off their garments, fall to the bed, and ride away to splendor within her. She was eager and responsive. He had dreamed day and night of having her again; now that precious moment had come.
Thoughts of Ginny’s troubles vanished in the golden glow of their loving. It was as if thousands of butterflies were trapped inside her body and fluttering against her skin as they sought to break through to freedom. Simultaneously she felt relaxed and tense as her anticipation mounted. No man had ever made her feel this way, and probably no other man could. She craved his kisses, his embraces, his touch. No flames could sear her body and heart as his possession did. She yearned to become one with him again tonight, and for countless times in the future. Even if her behavior, her uncontrollable surrender, was dangerous and reckless, she could not stop herself from claiming what she needed.
Steve relished her sweet mouth, and clean skin. His lips varied between long and firm kisses where their tongues touched, to light and brief ones where his lips scouted hers from end to end. He wanted to take her fast; he wanted to take her slow; he wanted her completely. His hands roamed her clothed body with stirring caresses as he increased their suspense, until he could endure the barriers between them no longer. He removed her gown, with her eager assistance. He stripped off his weapons, boots, and garments—again with her bold help. He lifted her and carried her to the inviting bed and placed her there. For a moment he felt vulnerable without his ever-present Colts and knife, and knowing his wits were dulled by passion.
Ginny had already tossed aside the covers. She kept her gaze locked to his as he smiled down at her. She had to read what was exposed in his eyes, to see it was tenderness and desire. She didn’t ask him to put out the lamp, and he didn’t do so. With courage and elation, her gaze slipped over his masculine body. His bronze physique appeared flawless; the few scars here and there did not detract from his near perfection. His muscles were well honed, creating a potent landscape of ridges, valleys, and plains. His weight was ideal for his height. She noticed that he had little body hair growing on his arms and legs,
and none on his tawny chest. Yet, his ebony hair was thick and lush, his stubble when he needed a shave was heavy and black, and the crispy fuzz around his…
Ginny blushed as she realized she was examining him like she had seen gamblers do with prize horses before placing their bets at the races. Her feminine curiosity had gotten the better of her. When her gaze rejoined his, he seemed to be savoring every inch of her the way she had visually adored him.
Steve had expected her body to be as compelling as her face, but it was even more exquisite than he had imagined. Her complexion reminded him of a ripe peach from her home state. Some would call her hair lightest brown and others, darkest blond. Her eyes were like pools of green with brown magic submerged in them. No artist could have created a more lovely beauty; one probably could mix colors forever and not find the correct shades to capture her. The seven-inch difference in their heights made her the perfect size to fit in his embrace. From the glow on her cheeks and in her eyes, she was as pleased and enticed by what she saw as he was. Obviously she recalled how much pleasure he had given her and was too highly inflamed to be either modest or afraid at the sight of his arousal.
Steve lay down half atop her. His mouth roved her face, neck, and shoulders. His lips returned to hers and sealed them in a kiss that could enlighten her to his deepest and most protected feelings. The contact with her bare skin caused him to tremble with swiftly mounting desire. He trailed his fingers over her as they mapped and explored her terrain. His mouth trekked with leisure down her throat and to her breasts.
Ginny moaned in bliss at the wild and wonderful sensations. Her fingers wandered into his ebony hair and thrilled themselves with its softness. They left the midnight location to roam his sleek torso. He was strong and firm, but supple. She was consumed by an overpowering need to be locked against him, but couldn’t seem to get close enough after his mouth returned to hers. He was like a sorcerer working his spells and enchantments on her, and she didn’t want to break them, ever.
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