by Craig, Emma
“Whatever it is, it’s not doing my peace of mind much good, either.”
She stood up and shook out her skirts. Elijah wanted her back at his side again. Lordy, this was bad. He was developing a schoolboy crush on his nurse.
Joy shaded her eyes with her hand and peered past the scanty stand of trees beside the river and into the distance. She pointed. “There’s a huge cloud of dust over there, to the east.”
“Is there?” Elijah left off staring up at Joy’s bosom and decided his fun was over for the day. With another sigh and a large grunt, he struggled to his feet. Damn, he’d be glad when he healed. If he ever did. He told himself four weeks wasn’t an eternity by any means, but he couldn’t help but be impatient. He wasn’t used to being laid up.
“You don’t suppose it’s a hurricane or a tornado or something, do you?” Joy sounded doubtful.
She did so for good reason, in Elijah’s estimation. “They don’t get hurricanes this far inland, Joy. And it’s not a tornado. People call ‘em twisters for a reason, you know.”
Her lips pinched up. Elijah was delighted to see them thus, and was amazed that he could have missed so prudish a characteristic. “Well, I’ve never seen either one before, so how am I supposed to know that?”
He laughed. “Anyway, if it was a weather-related phenomenon, don’t you think it’d be coming down from the sky rather than starting up from the plains?”
She snorted. “How should I know that, either? I haven’t lived long enough in this vile place to know what happens here. Except for gambling, cursing, and shooting, of course.”
“Good one, Joy.” Elijah squinted off to the east, wishing his eyesight were better. “I wonder if someone’s running cattle.”
“Running cattle?” Joy left off staring at the cloud of dust in the distance and commenced staring at Elijah. “What does that mean? Why would a body want to make a cow run?”
He laughed again, harder this time, until the wound in his side stitched and he had to press his hand over it. Joy, he noticed, didn’t appreciate being laughed at. She’d planted her fists on her hips, and her glare got hotter. “Don’t hit me, sweetheart. What you said struck me as funny, is all.”
“Yes. I can see that.” With a sniff, she whirled around and stared at the cloud of dust some more. The noise was getting louder and louder. The cat screeched. Joy walked to the cottonwood and tried to pluck it from the trunk, but it dug in its claws and wouldn’t budge.
“Careful,” Elijah advised. “Killer might up and take a swat at you. He’s scared, it looks like.”
“I don’t blame him. It’s disconcerting to have that big noise and big cloud of dirt heading at one.”
“Yeah, it is.” Elijah thought he could make out what looked like the familiar curve of cattle horns amongst the dust. “Hey, come here for a minute. Are those longhorns I see?”
“Where?” Joy ran back over to Elijah, abandoning the kitten, who stared after her as if he considered her a base deserter. He hissed to let her know it. Joy ignored him and peered off to the east.
Since she was standing right in front of him, Elijah rested his hands on her shoulders and drew her back slightly so that her back barely rested against his chest. He felt content this way, and smiled to himself. He hoped she wouldn’t up and slap him for taking the liberty.
“I do believe you’re right.” Joy was evidently too caught up in the distant phenomenon to notice how close she stood to Elijah, or that he was resting his hands on her shoulders. “I think I see animals. A whole bunch of cows. Running straight toward Second Street.”
“It’s a herd of cattle, Joy, not a bunch of cows.”
“Well, whatever it’s called, I think that’s one.”
“I think you’re right.” Sounds started to distinguish themselves from amid the thundering hooves. Elijah heard whistles and whoops and moos. “It’s a cattle drive.”
“My goodness. I’ve heard about cattle drives.”
“That’s why this place is here, I reckon. It’s a stopover for ranchers driving herds up north.”
“Is it? I didn’t know that. I wondered why anyone would want to build a town out here, in the middle of nowhere.”
“Let’s mosey on down to McMurdo’s. We’ll be able to see it better from there.”
“Hmmm. I’m not sure I want to.”
Nevertheless, Joy packed up their picnic things quickly while Elijah tried to pry the kitten from the tree trunk. Since he was a wounded man, he couldn’t very bend over and help Joy, but he did enjoy the way her little rump stuck in the air as she folded the quilt. With a sigh, he contemplated what she’d do if he put his hands there. The consequences would undoubtedly be painful to him, so he didn’t do it, but he wanted to. Lord, Lord, maybe it was his mind slipping now that he was getting old.
They made their slow way back to the wagon yard, Elijah cradling Killer with one of the cushions to protect himself from the frightened kitten’s claws. As soon as they were safely inside the gates, he let the cushion go, and the cat dashed into the barn. Elijah figured he’d be safe from cattle hooves and longhorns in there.
“Better go inside and get us a couple of bandannas, Joy. There’s going to be a lot of dust kicked up when the beasts run down Second.”
“All right.” She started for the house, then stopped and turned around. She looked worried. “They aren’t going to chase all those cows into Mr. McMurdo’s yard, are they?”
“Naw. They wouldn’t all fit. They’ll probably run them through town and pasture them somewhere to the west of us. Then some of the cowboys will watch ‘em while the others come into town and buy supplies—and get drunk.”
Joy sniffed and lifted her chin. “What a deplorable waste of a man’s life.”
God, he loved the way she did that; went all pruney with indignation whenever anyone did or said something she didn’t approve of. With a cheerful laugh, Elijah said, “Don’t worry. You can lock the gates so they can’t come in and get you.”
She scowled at him. “I’m not worried about that!”
He tilted his head to one side and watched as she stomped to the house. “You should be,” he said softly. She couldn’t hear him. “I do believe you should be.”
Elijah got tired of watching the enormous herd of longhorns being driven down Second Street before Joy did. He’d seen such nonsense before. She hadn’t, and was obviously fascinated. So he took to watching her instead. She’d dragged some crates over to the six-foot fence, and had scrambled up onto one of them. Even so, she had to stand on her tiptoes to watch the passing herd. Elijah was glad he’d suggested the bandannas, because they’d have choked to death on flying dust and grit without the bandannas covering their noses.
“I’m going to need a bath after this,” Joy said, laughing.
The thought appealed to Elijah. “I’ll be happy to help you wash up.”
She smacked him playfully. He was glad she didn’t know he wasn’t joking. The idea of soaping his hands and lathering Joy’s slender body was an extremely appealing one, however, and he had a difficult time letting it go. Eventually, he contented himself with appreciating how Joy’s shapely ankle rounded into her calf and disappeared under her petticoats. He was sure she’d be offended if he told her how pretty he thought her legs were.
# # #
Life at McMurdo’s Wagon Yard perked up as a result of the spring cattle drives. Several more herds were run through the town after that first one as the nearby ranchers prepared to drive their cattle to market.
Joy was kept busy in McMurdo’s mercantile with cowboys coming in for supplies. Since Elijah was now fit to be up, if not around much by this time, he took to reading to her from The Moonstone while she scurried about restocking shelves and taking inventory of supplies. When he finished The Moonstone, he started in on The Woman in White. Joy forgot to make him read Bible verses before reading from the novel.
The mail pouch arrived on a freight wagon from Santa Fe. Joy searched through it for a letter
from Miss Virginia Gladstone, but there wasn’t one. She figured Miss Gladstone hadn’t yet had a chance to receive and respond to the letter Joy had written her. She contemplated telling Elijah what she’d done, but their rapport had become so easy, she didn’t quite dare for fear a confession would cause constraint between them. She waited for one of her mother’s lectures to attack her and was glad when it didn’t.
Her mother’s shrill, condemning voice, in fact, came to her less and less frequently as the days turned into weeks and she continued to nurse Elijah Perry and work in Alexander McMurdo’s store. She almost forgot the place belonged to Mr. McMurdo. Her days took on a tranquil, isolated, golden-edged quality in her mind, and she sometimes thought she wouldn’t really mind staying here like this forever. Two weeks had passed since her picnic by the river with Elijah and Apricot, and she was enjoying herself for the first time in her life.
The overall politeness of the cowboys who did commerce in Mr. McMurdo’s small mercantile establishment surprised and gratified her. She stared after one young man who’d just stammered out his thanks to her, bowed from the waist, blushed, and departed, his high-heeled boots sounding like cannon fire on the scarred wooden boards.
“My goodness, I do believe that fellow is shy. Either that, or he’s terribly sunburned.”
Elijah sat on one of the wooden chairs in front of the pot-bellied stove. He’d watched Joy conduct business with the young man, and hadn’t liked what he’d seen. Now he stuck his finger in The Woman in White to mark his place and scowled after the departing cowboy. He wasn’t sure he liked all these men coming into the store and doing business with Joy. She wasn’t up to dealing with a bunch of men who hadn’t seen a lovely young unmarried female in months. “That’s not sunburn. He was shy with you.”
Joy peered at the back of the retreating man and muttered, “How strange.”
Elijah transferred his scowl from the cowboy to her. “What’s strange about it? You’re a young, pretty woman, and he’s a young, randy cowboy. He fancies you. That’s not strange. That’s normal.”
“What?” She stared at Elijah as if he’d suddenly grown a second head.
Her incredulity irked him. “What, what? It’s the truth. For God’s sake, Joy, you’re a young, pretty, unmarried girl. There’s not another young, pretty, unmarried female within two hundred miles of here.” Elijah’s thoughts turned to the Pecos Saloon, and he amended grumpily, “Leastways, not another one like you.”
“But . . . but . . .” Her words stuttered to a halt.
“But what?” He couldn’t have explained why he was suddenly so peeved, but he was. And he didn’t appreciate Joy’s pretense of surprise, either. Hell, wasn’t she the one who thought all men were beasts? Wasn’t she scared to death of her essential feminine nature, and what men and women did together? Why should she be surprised that these lonely cowpokes should lust after her?
The notion occurred to him that he wasn’t so much annoyed with Joy as with the men who wanted her. They were all more nearly her age than he was, after all. Probably any dozen or two of them would make her a fine husband.
A fierce urge to strangle something swept through him.
“But . . .” She tried again, and again she failed. Elijah glowered at her. His obvious rancor apparently goosed the words out of her mouth. “But . . . but, I’m me Nobody wants me.”
Elijah’s rancor evaporated. He stared at her, confounded. Then he set The Woman in White on the table beside the pot-bellied stove, stood up, and went over to her. He grabbed her by the hand. “Come with me.”
“Why? What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer, but pulled her toward the corner of the store where Mac kept stacks of blue flannel work shirts, leather vests, trousers, hats, and so forth. She tried to dig in her heels, but Elijah was relentless. His strength was returning, and she wasn’t powerful enough to resist him. Her heels screeched across the floorboards. “You’re probably scratching Mac’s floor all to hell, Joy.”
“What? Oh!”
She stumbled and almost fell. When he looked, Elijah wasn’t surprised to see her peering anxiously at the scratches her heels had made on the floor. He didn’t care. “Come here.”
“What are you doing?” Since she couldn’t screech with her heels, she’d started using her voice. Elijah wasn’t surprised about that, either.
“I want you to look at something, Joy Hardesty.”
“What?”
He stopped in front of the scratchy mirror Mac had hung on the wall next to a rack of hats. “That.” He jerked her around to stand in front of him, facing the mirror. He held onto her shoulders so she couldn’t escape. He wanted her to look at herself, honestly and without prejudice, once in her life.
She only came up to his chin, so he could peer into the mirror with her. Her reflection stared back, wide-eyed and scared, pink-cheeked, and very, very pretty.
“I want you to see you, Joy. I want you to look at yourself without filtering your image through your mother’s malicious fog. I want you to see yourself for what you are.”
He saw her swallow. She still looked scared.
“You’re a young, pretty woman, Joy. Lately you’ve even become vibrant. Vivacious, even.”
“V-vivacious? Me?” She sounded as shocked as if he’d told her Jesus had returned to earth and was prepared to take her up with Him to heaven.
“Yes. Vivacious. You. Pretty. You. Young. Appealing.” He thought for a moment, and decided to toss in a few more adjectives. “Nice. Kind-hearted.”
She swallowed again. Her eyes started to glitter, and Elijah was afraid she might cry. She didn’t. Instead, she whispered, “But you used to say I was mean and spiteful and hateful.”
He grinned at her in the mirror. “That’s because you used to be mean and spiteful and hateful. You’re not any longer.”
“Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
She gazed at his reflection in wonder. “You mean it? Really?”
“I’m not in the habit of lying, Joy, whatever other bad habits I might have.”
“And you really think I’m pretty? Truly?”
Elijah shook his head in mock disgust. “For the love of God, Joy, look at yourself.”
She did, and her smile broke out like the sun after a rain storm. She turned in his arms, and glowed up at him for a split-second before Elijah couldn’t stand it any longer and drew her into his embrace.
Chapter Thirteen
The emotion that washed over Joy in that moment surpassed anything she’d experienced before. She felt joy. She, whose name had always seemed like a cruel joke, felt joy fill her completely.
When Elijah kissed her, she hungered for him. Everything in her body responded. She’d been here alone with him for six weeks, and she had fallen head over heels in love with him. In those very few seconds, while he kissed her, she admitted it to herself. The admission felt wonderful. Freeing. Exhilarating.
Her head felt as if it were filled with stars. Her blood ran hot with passion. Her bones turned to jelly, and she clung to Elijah Perry as if to life itself. He was so strong. His arms felt like steel around her, keeping her upright, protecting her from life’s storms. And he was wise—in a way she’d never understood as wise before she’d met him. She wanted to stay in his arms forever.
His tongue slipped between her lips and into her mouth, and Joy greeted it with her own. His hand splayed across her back at her waist, drawing her against his hard, warm body. In that moment she felt protected. Wanted. Loved. The combination was a heady one indeed.
She’d had her arms wrapped around him in a crushing embrace, shocked by the newness of the experience into immobility. After a moment, when she’d almost accustomed herself to the thrill of being in Elijah’s arms, she let her hands wander up and down his back. She felt the hard planes of his body, so different from her own, and wanted to feel his bare flesh with hers. She wasn’t even shocked. Her nipples tingled with need, and her skin felt flushed.
“Well, well, well, I see the two o’ ye seem to have overcome your dislike of one another.”
Alexander McMurdo’s voice and soft chuckle filtered over Joy like those sparkles had done weeks ago on the prairie. It took her a second or two to understand that Mac’s voice wasn’t a phenomenon like the swarm of sparkles had been. She jerked in Elijah’s arms, and her eyes flew open.
Elijah groaned. Immediately contrite, she looked up at him. “Did I hurt you?”
He shook his head, but his face held a pained expression. Joy laid her hand lightly over his wounded ribs. She felt his heart hammering like a piston in his chest. He’d squeezed his eyes shut, and tiny wrinkles radiated from their corners. He looked healthier than he had when he’d first come here, even before he was shot.
“Are you sure?” Because she couldn’t seem to help herself, she lifted her hand and smoothed her fingers over his crows’ feet. She loved those crows’ feet. She loved everything about him.
“I’m sure.” His voice was hoarse. He heaved a big sigh.
Joy felt bereft when he took a step back, away from her, and his hands fell from her waist, leaving a cold spot there across her back. She stared up at him, blinking as a sprinkle of sparkles wafted in front of her eyes, blurring his face for an instant.
Good heavens, he looked as though his head were framed by a halo. The phenomenon was so unexpected and so incongruous, she laughed once, sharply. She’d never drunk champagne in her life, but she’d heard it was bubbly, and that’s what she felt like in that moment: bubbly.
“Do you really think I’m pretty, Elijah?”
He looked down at her and shook his head, as if he couldn’t understand why she’d still question him after that kiss. Joy took a step back—and her left boot heel landed on Apricot’s tail. The kitten yowled. Joy jumped a foot. Elijah jerked.