Marybeth shuddered, her heart going out to him. She met his eyes and saw that his own were watery. “How awful! I’m so sorry.”
He sighed deeply, puffing on the cigar again. “Yeah.” Lingering hatred was evident in his voice. “Apparently the Ranger thought if he got rid of Rachael’s brothers, she’d be more dependent, more eager to marry him. The comancheros rode off with my youngest brother Luke as a captive, figured to sell him as a slave for some rich Mexican. They left me for dead.” He smoked quietly again. “But I damn well wasn’t dead. I rode all the way into Austin with an arrow in my side. But I had made a real big mistake, Marybeth, and ever since, I’ve told myself never to judge a man by his race or appearance. That’s why I understand when you say not to judge all the Irish by the MacKinders. Besides, you’re Irish, and look how nice you are.”
She frowned, meeting his eyes. “What happened?”
He leaned back, resting on one elbow. “Well, I didn’t know then that the Ranger had planned the whole thing. I thought he was a friend. I knew my sister had secretly been seeing Brand Selby—the Comanche half-breed. You’ve got to understand that in Texas the word Comanche fans the fire of bitter hatred, ten times worse than any hatred you have ever felt. I’d had some pretty tough words with my sister over it—mainly because I knew the ridicule she’d suffer for loving an Indian, the names people would call her and all. She was too pretty and gentle and intelligent for that. I’m afraid I was as prejudiced as everybody else. She’d told me she wanted to marry Brand, and I treated them both pretty bad. After the raid, I figured Brand had done it out of revenge; I thought the raiders were Comanche. I went to town and said so, and everybody went after Brand Selby. The Ranger was so angry when he heard about Rachael and Brand, he had Rachael kidnapped and planned to sell her to the com-ancheros, but not till after he got what he wanted out of her first.”
Marybeth reddened and looked away. “How awful!”
“Yeah, well the worst part was that it was really my fault for judging Brand Selby. I rode out and found Brand, and with his nose for tracking, we found the comanchero camp. With the help of a couple young Comanche men, we raided it and killed most of them, got Luke back, and Rachael. I thank God we got there before the Ranger could do what he intended to do with her. We brought him in. He was hanged for dealing with murdering comancheros. Rachael and Brand got married.”
He sat up again, staring out into the darkness. “After that, there were just too many bad memories in Texas for us, even though we had grown up there. Ma and Pa settled there after leaving Tennessee when Rachael and I were just babies. My pa was raised by Cherokee Indians. They called him River Joe, the white Indian.” He shook his head. “He sure loved my ma. That’s another long story—how they got together.” He looked at Marybeth. “They went up against some pretty tough odds, Marybeth—nearly lost their lives, some of the same problems Brand and Rachael faced because they loved each other. I learned a lot from those two, and from remembering what my folks went through. I guess if love isn’t strong enough to survive the big challenges, it’s not worth pursuing at all.”
She watched his eyes, realizing he was talking about her own situation. Was he saying he loved her? Was he willing to face John MacKinder to win her hand? She dropped her eyes, studying a ruffle on her dress. “I’ve never known that kind of love,” she told him. “I never really loved Dan and he didn’t love me. I was just…something pretty that he wanted to own. I didn’t understand that at first, I was so young. But it didn’t take long to figure it out.” She breathed deeply and put on a smile. “Well, it sounds like you at least patched things up with the man your sister loved. You all left Texas then?”
He nodded. “Brand’s a good man, one of the finest I know. He got to know my sister because she was a school teacher and he wanted to learn to read and write. He had never had the opportunity. He knew there was no hope of surviving the Indian way any longer, so he took up ranching. Heck, he can read and write and do math as good as any man now. We all came up to Kansas and Brand started a ranch outside of Independence, Missouri, on the Kansas side. Does a good business selling horses and cattle to emigrants. I told you the rest. I always intended to go on, but I wanted to help Brand and Rachael get a good start first.” He shook his head. “I sure do miss Texas, though.”
“I wish I could see it some day.”
He met her eyes and smiled. “And I’d like to see Ireland. But we’ll both be lucky to make it to Oregon for now.”
She returned the smile. “I will be satisfied with that myself.” Their eyes held, and she was more awe-struck than ever, realizing how strong and brave he must be—nearly dying from the comanchero attack but finding the strength to go on and hunt down the men who had captured his sister and brother. Yes, Josh Rivers could take care of himself. She began to feel more confident that maybe she really could find a way to get away from the MacKinders, that Josh meant it when he hinted he could help her. But a gun battle with comancheros was not the same as a one on one fist fight with John MacKinder. “I would like to have met your sister and her husband. I cannot imagine an Indian being educated and civilized.”
“Oh, there are plenty. But, believe me, the ones who don’t have a white man’s education are pretty wise in their own right. Whites underestimate the Indians’ cleverness—and no better fighters exist than the Indians. They can out-ride and out-smart the best soldiers, and they’re damn smart businessmen when it comes to trading.”
He leaned back on his elbow again. “Sometimes you can deal with them, and sometimes you can’t. I guarantee, the more the Plains Indians realize the white man is here to stay and not just passing through, the more hard-nosed they’re going to get, and the harder they’ll be to deal with. We already have to watch the livestock. The Indians figure anything out here is theirs for the taking. They love to steal horses and cattle. To them it’s nothing more than war games. Warriors who come back with stolen horses are honored. Their way of life is as ingrained as our own, yet whites come along and expect them to change overnight, when they’ve lived this way for hundreds, probably thousands of years.”
She listened, lost in him. Everything he said spoke of compassion, a willingness to understand; it described a man who was concerned with much more than his own personal wants and needs. He was concerned about others, even men as uncivilized as the Indians. He actually wanted to understand them, instead of just labeling them as worthless dogs the way most whites labeled them.
“You are an unusual man, Joshua Rivers.”
He met her eyes. This time it was he who looked a little embarrassed. “I’ve really overdone it, haven’t I? I’ve been sitting here talking a blue streak, talking about things you probably don’t care anything about.” He shook his head. “I swear I don’t usually talk so much. Mostly I’m pretty quiet. Something about being around you—I don’t know. I just feel like you’d understand what I’m trying to say. Out here a man gets awful lonesome. Sometimes it just feels good to unload.”
“Unload?” She frowned and Josh laughed lightly.
“That means to say things out—get them off your chest instead of holding them inside.” He turned to face her, leaning closer. “You keep too much inside, Marybeth. I’ve watched you silently carrying the load the MacKinders push onto you. You don’t have to do that. And I’m here to tell you that you can share the hurt with me—that I’ll help you if you want to get away from them.”
It was a wonderful thought. Was it really possible to be free of them? “Why?” she asked Josh.
“Partly because I don’t like to see people abused. And partly because—” He hesitated. “Because I think you’re special. You’re a woman with the kind of spirit it takes to survive out here. You would never fall apart like Wilma Sleiter. You’ve got courage, and a person can push you only so far. I just don’t want somebody like John or his father to slowly destroy that spirit and that courage.”
He searched her eyes, as with his hand he again gently touched her face. Mar
ybeth sat spellbound, wanting to run, but wanting more to stay. There was fire in his fingers. “More than all that,” he told her, “you’re just plain and simply more woman than I ever met before. I’ll say it out, Marybeth. When I get to Oregon, I plan to have my own spread, to build a ranch again like what I had in Texas. And it’s going to take a hell of a strong-willed woman to help me do that. I’m not saying I know right now you’re that woman. I know it’s too soon. I’m just saying…I’ve never met somebody who fit everything I’d want in a woman, and who made me feel on fire on top of it.”
He leaned closer, and she felt frozen in time. She did not resist when his lips gently touched her mouth. His tongue lightly tasted her lips, forced them apart in a kiss that grew deeper, expressing the passion that surged inside the man. Never had Marybeth been kissed so tenderly, or with such desire and appreciation. And never had she parted her lips willingly, feeling a terrible desire to move her own tongue along a man’s mouth as she found herself doing now. Her response only drew out his own desire, and he continued to kiss her, moving an arm around her and laying her back, his broad, solid chest crushing against her breasts as he let out a little groan, his kiss growing more savage. Even when he became more aggressive, Marybeth felt none of the fear or revulsion she had felt when Dan MacKinder had savaged her in their marriage bed. Still, she suddenly realized how permissive she had been. What would he think of her!
She pushed at him lightly, finally turning her face away. “Don’t, Josh.”
She could feel his tension, felt his warm, sweet breath on her neck as he breathed out a long sigh of frustration. He lightly kissed her neck and a rush of ecstasy swept through her so that she quickly sat up, afraid of what one more kiss would do to her. She pushed some hair back from her face as he sat up behind her, touching her shoulders.
“I never should have let you do that,” she told him.
“Why not? How else are we going to know if what we feel between us is real?”
“I have never said how I feel.”
“You don’t have to. I can see it in your eyes. I felt it in your kiss.” He moved her hair to the side and leaned down to kiss the back of her neck, sending shivers through her.
“Please don’t do that, Josh.”
He merely smiled, reaching around her, his strong arm just above her breasts. He pulled her against him and she leaned back against his shoulder. Suddenly the tears came, unexpected, unwanted. He held her tightly from behind. “I suddenly…so want to…believe you,” she wept. “Please don’t make a fool of me, Josh. Please—don’t lie to me.”
He kissed her hair. “Marybeth, I’m not lying. Why in hell do you think I bought the Sleiter wagon? I bought it for the day when you decide to get away from the MacKinders and go it alone. It would be easy to find someone to drive for you. Nobody on this train would let the MacKinder men bring you harm while we’re on the trail, and you could settle with one of the other families when you got to Oregon. But that’s not all I was thinking, Marybeth. I was thinking that maybe, before this journey is over—maybe you and I would need that wagon together. I can’t say anything for sure right now, and I know you can’t either. But I do know you’re on my mind practically all the time. That has to mean something. So does the fact that you came back out tonight, and you let me kiss you.”
She brushed at her tears and pulled away from him, rising. “I had better go back.”
Josh stood up, looking down at her. “You aren’t angry with me for that kiss, are you?”
She searched his dark eyes, eyes that awakened passions raging within her that Dan had never aroused. “No,” she answered quietly. “But I can’t think when I am this close to you.”
He smiled the warm, moving smile that made her feel weak. “Good. I don’t want you to think when we’re close. I don’t want you to do anything but be happy and forget about all your troubles.”
“I also have to do what is wise and proper, which means giving a lot of thought to some of the things you have told me.”
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Then you go back and do all the thinking you want, but promise me you’ll meet me again tomorrow. And if we still feel this—this attraction, this good feeling we have around each other, I’m going to talk to you and share meals with you and hold your baby boy all I want. We’re going to be open about this, Marybeth, and let everybody know we’re good friends—maybe more than friends. Things like this happen fast out here, Marybeth. People understand that. I’m not going to sneak around about it, and I don’t care if the MacKinder men find out. They might as well, because their presence isn’t going to change anything.”
He saw the fear and dread come into her eyes at the mention of their return. “Quit being afraid of them, Marybeth.” He moved an arm around her back and crushed her against him, a sudden power and determination in the movement. She could feel his anger and realized that when challenged, this man could be just as volatile and fierce as John MacKinder. Maybe he was more of a match for John than she realized. Yet she dreaded the thought of ever having to find out.
“Quit being afraid,” he repeated. He grasped her hair and pulled her head back gently, picturing her head thrown back this way in ecstasy while he made love to her. He brought his mouth down over hers, kissing her savagely this time, pushing his tongue deep as though to hint at another invasion he would one day make on her. She whimpered in an awakened ecstasy that made her cheeks burn and her insides ache.
The kiss became more tender then as he slowly released her mouth. She could feel him trembling just as much as she was. “Jesus, I’m sorry,” he told her. He reluctantly let go of her. “Go on back, Marybeth.”
She put her fingers to her mouth, her whole body trembling. She turned and fled, amazed at the feelings he had stirred in her, shocked at the fact that she had discovered she actually wanted a man to touch her. For a brief moment she had wanted the thrill of feeling her body naked against his own, the ecstasy of taking him inside her. She had never had such desires before. When Dan had made love to her, it had only brought pain and degradation. It was always done with deliberate force, whether she wanted him or not. She had felt like an instrument for his pleasure, but had never considered taking pleasure in return. Josh Rivers had awakened pleasure in her soul. Yes, that was it. Pleasure. Was it sinful to take pleasure in a man? Surely not. Surely that was what real love was all about. She had no doubt Delores took pleasure in Aaron.
She reached the wagon and climbed inside. A lantern was still lit as Delores sat brushing her hair and Danny lay sleeping in a corner. Delores looked at her and Marybeth touched her lips again, wondering if she looked any different, wondering if Delores knew.
“Is everything all right?” Delores asked. “You look—” She broke into a smile. “Marybeth, you look absolutely beautiful, so—so happy!” She moved closer. “You aren’t going to cry, are you?”
Marybeth’s lip quivered. Never had she felt this terribly confused, this afraid for someone else’s well being; never had she suddenly cared so much for another human being except her own parents and little Danny. It hit her with sudden reality how much Josh Rivers had come to mean to her, and the feeling frightened her.
“Oh, Delores,” she said, looking wide-eyed at her. “I think I love him,” she whispered. Her eyes filled with tears.
Delores smiled, shaking her head. “That isn’t something to cry about, Marybeth. You should be happy!”
“I know, but I’m so afraid…for him, not for me. He’s so—so brash and sure. He thinks it will be so easy.”
“Not easy, Marybeth.” Delores put down her brush. “And he is a man who I think has seen his share of trouble. He knows it won’t be easy. But love can see people through some very difficult things. I am sure that is what he is saying. Marybeth, did he say he loves you?”
She shook her head, taking a handkerchief from a pocket of the yellow dress and dabbing at her eyes. “He didn’t use the word, but he’s thinking it, and he knows I’m thinking it.
It’s just…so sudden.”
“Is it really? We’ve been on the trail for weeks, Marybeth. We’ve suffered through a lot of things together already. And you met him clear back in St. Louis, talked to him on the riverboat.”
“But we didn’t really talk—I mean, not like the last two nights. It just doesn’t seem logical, Delores.”
Delores only smiled. “Love is never very logical. I don’t think it is supposed to be. I knew I loved Aaron the first day I met him. I know it sounds perfectly ridiculous, but it’s true.”
Marybeth put a hand to her head. “Oh, Delores, what am I going to do when John and Mac catch up? What am I going to do? I know what is happening is going to make terrible trouble, yet I can’t seem to put a stop to it. I don’t want to stop it.” She met the woman’s eyes. “He even thinks that if nothing comes of our relationship, I should still get away from John and Mac. Delores, he bought that wagon for me, so that I would have my own wagon when I decide to leave the MacKinders. I don’t think I can do it! What if they try to take Danny from me! And what would they do to anyone who tried to help me—especially to Josh if they find out he’s behind it all!”
“Is Josh worried about it?”
“He isn’t the least bit afraid.”
“Then neither should you be. No one is going to let those men hurt you or take Danny—or hurt Josh Rivers. The MacKinders can’t take on the whole wagon train, Marybeth.”
Marybeth shook her head. “It won’t be like that. Not everyone would help. And out of those who are against John and Mac, how many-would really stand behind me if they were challenged by John MacKinder? You know how he can be. I know, better than all of you.”
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