by Alix West
“I can take you to Colter Canyon,” he said. “And your son too. We’ll load you and your trunks first off.”
Her scent lifted on the breeze and hit him. She bit her lip nervously and her response lit a flare of irritation inside him. She doubted him. He was here to help, and she expected that he might want something untoward. A woman like her shouldn’t be traveling alone. She was too lovely.
“You’re going to take the other passengers as well?”
“I’ll set you apart from the men. You can sit on the bench with me, if you like. Your son can too.”
“I’ll just wait. We’re first-class passengers. The railroad is bound to send another wagon for us.”
Nick shook his head. “Maybe, but might not be till tomorrow.”
She eyed him with a fair degree of skepticism. The boy gave him the same once-over.
“I don’t care if you’re first class, or last class. I’m not leaving without you.”
Behind him the train chuffed, and the whistle blew. The conductor stood on the platform, cupped his hand to his mouth. “Train’s going back to Sutton Falls for the night. The railroad will put the lot of you up in town. Or you can see if the wagons will get you to town.”
One by one the men returned to the train. None of them wanted to take their chances of getting stranded with the wagon. They waved and thanked Nick. As they returned to the train, the men’s mood was markedly more jovial than when he’d arrived. All of them most likely imagined a night of carousing in town on the railroad’s nickel.
“Is that what you want?” Nick tilted his head towards the train. “To go back?”
She looked flustered. “I-I didn’t hear what he said.”
“He’s going to put the engine in reverse and go back up the line to Sutton Falls. But I don’t think you want to go there.”
He damn sure didn’t want her back on that train with a bunch of cowboys bent on stirring up as much trouble as they possibly could. They’d probably be passing a bottle around before the engine even began moving.
She shook her head. “I need to go to Colter Canyon.”
“Someone expecting you today?”
“Not exactly.”
A grip of satisfaction wrapped around him. It was a primitive notion that made him imagine for one brief moment that she was his and she traveled to Colter Canyon for him. What was a pretty girl like her coming to Colter Canyon for? To work as a teacher perhaps. To visit family. He’d like to know, but he could see the guarded look in her eyes. She didn’t trust him one bit.
Which was too bad, because she was coming with him whether she liked it or not. The boy, at least, didn’t look at him with fear. The boy just regarded him with curiosity. Every so often his gaze would wander to the team and study them for a long moment, a smile tugging at his lips.
“All right then,” she said primly. “I’ll go with you.”
She talked to him like she was Queen of Sheba and he were her lowly subject. He wanted to explain that he wasn’t paid to pick up stranded train passengers. He was doing this out of the kindness of his heart and the balance of kindness in his heart wasn’t much on the best of days. She was burning through it pretty quick.
He growled as he walked past her. A few moments later he had both trunks on the buckboard.
She walked over, picking her way through the muddy pasture, lifting her skirts a few inches to clear the puddles.
“That dress is already ruined, sweetheart.”
She ignored him, keeping her attention on the ground. A light mist began to fall.
“Would you like me to carry you, so we can get to Colter Canyon? You know… someday soon.”
There was no response from her as she continued taking small, deliberate steps, stopping every so often to study the ground to pick the best path. Finally, she got to the wagon with the boy just a few steps behind. The boy wore a cap, but a few strands of hair poked out. He had the same red hair, although his looked like a rat had chewed the ends. They looked alike with the same coloring, but the boy wore such pitifully ragged clothing, while she was dressed like a duchess.
When she got to the wagon, she stopped and lifted her gaze to meet his. Standing just a pace away, he realized how slight she was. She stood a head shorter than him, at least, but what captured his attention more than anything was the way she looked at him. Her blue eyes were filled with surprise and dismay and even a glimmer of fear. She probably wondered about the scar, he thought with irritation.
“I don’t know your name,” she said softly.
He offered his hand. “Nick Travis.”
She set her hand in his. The feel of her delicate, feminine hand sent a surge of savage lust through him. Her eyes widened, and he wished he knew what was going through her mind.
“Cora,” she said softly. “Cora Singleton.” She tugged her hand free. “And this is Justin.”
The boy nodded, but shoved his hands in his pockets. The boy wasn’t a talker, which was fine with Nick.
“Let me help you up to the seat, Cora.” His voice sounded gruff even to his own ear. She flinched when he grasped her waist, but didn’t recoil from his touch. She was small and delicate, and he lifted her with ease. He set her on the seat and let go of her reluctantly. Her scent, and uncommon beauty, worked on him in a way he didn’t care for. Cora was going to be a problem if he didn’t get her to town and get rid of her soon.
The boy clambered up beside Cora. When Nick hoisted himself up he glanced at his passengers.
“All set?”
The boy nodded, but Cora didn’t even acknowledge the question. Instead she looked around, taking in the drenched lands. He released the brake and snapped the reins, the horses strained in their harnesses to pull the wagon from the muck.
Chapter Seven
Cora
The deep ruts on the road made the wagon lurch with such force that at times she was sure she’d be thrown from the seat along with Justin. The boy didn’t seem to mind the rough ride. He even nudged her a few times and gave her a isn’t-this-grand, lopsided smile.
“I’m glad you’re having fun,” she grumbled.
The horses plodded steadily but this was no Boston Hansom cab. The massive animals were twice the size of any horse she’d ever seen. Both were a soft honey color, their manes were a shade lighter, more like the color of butter. Families in Boston prided themselves on fine-looking horses and matched pairs were highly esteemed, but Boston horses were bred for fine conformation. These animals looked like they’d been hewn from granite, much like their master.
She stole a glance at Nick. He was just as massive. He wore a light-colored shirt and rough coat. His jaw had a dark, short beard. He might shave, but not regularly. His cowboy hat framed his features and his light eyes. A jagged scar cut his face, and she couldn’t decide if he looked attractive or dangerous.
To her surprise, once they were on their way, Nick handed the reins to Justin. She lifted her gaze from his strong hands to his mouth.
“Steady there, son. If you tense up, they seem to know.” He nodded his approval. “There you go. I’ll let you drive a while until we get to the river. How’s that?”
Justin nodded, his eyes lit with wonder. He held the reins in his small, grubby hands.
“How long till Colter Canyon?” she asked Nick.
“About an hour.”
His answer both pleased her and filled her with dread. What if David Tarrant didn’t want her? She wasn’t supposed to arrive for several days. Would he be displeased that she had come early? She had money and could afford to leave Colter Canyon. She could even afford to take Justin, but where would they go?
The wagon jerked to one side and she tightened her grip on the seat. Her greatest worry should be simply remaining seated on the wagon. The ground was a long way to fall and the wheels of the wagon could easily crush a person. With a shudder, she said a silent prayer that not only would she and Justin reach Colter Canyon safely, but David Tarrant would welcome her and the boy
with open arms.
If she had any confidence that Nick would go through any trouble on her behalf, she would ask him to take her to David’s home. She didn’t dare pose the question. Clearly, he wanted to be rid of her as quickly as possible.
The wagon crested a hill. Below them lay a stretch of river. In the overcast light, the water looked dark, steely and threatening. Nick seemed intent to drive through and continued to talk amiably with Justin as they approached. He took the reins from the boy. Perhaps driving through rivers was commonplace in Texas. The horses showed no sign of distress as they plodded along the path. It dipped towards the river and the horses broke into a trot. The wagon rumbled beneath her. She gritted her jaw to keep her teeth from clattering, and instinctively grabbed Justin.
The horses strained against the harness with the extra effort of pulling the wagon through water. With each step the water rose higher. She was seized with terror and turned to Justin. “I should have asked you if you know how to swim.”
She waited for a response, her heart in her throat. The boy looked so small, so vulnerable. What if he fell into the water? Could she save him? She held her breath, praying he knew how to swim.
He nodded and smiled.
She let out a deep breath, but before she could reply, the wagon hit a boulder. It jerked and lifted, rolling over the massive rock. Justin reached for her, but she slipped from his grasp. Cora was pitched forward, then back, and in a single horrifying instant found herself falling to the stream below. She screamed as she hit the water. The stream swallowed her, cold water surrounding her and pulling her down.
She kicked. Her feet hit the river bottom, but the stream moved too quickly for her to get her footing. It was enough to help her surface, though. Gasping for air, she flailed her arms, struggling against the swift current.
The water carried her to a deep spot. She sank beneath the surface. Frantic to find her footing again, she kicked and struggled. She rose, choking and gasping for air. Nick swam across the river. As he drew near, a breeze swept his hat from his head. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. She coughed and gagged. He dragged her through the water. With each step, the water grew shallower and the current weaker.
He carried her to a rock on the bank and set her down. Crouching beside her, he cupped her chin. “Are you hurt?”
She pushed his hand away and searched for a sign of the wagon but saw none. “Where’s Justin?” she shrieked. “Where’s the wagon?”
He pointed to a spot where the path lay. Justin sat atop the wagon watching them.
Nick grasped her chin and pulled her attention back to him. “Can you hear me?”
A sob welled up in her throat. Another round of coughing wracked her body. Her eyes stung.
He frowned. She knew he’d want to ask her more about her hearing. When she’d answered his questions, he’d regard her with pity or distaste. As she shook her head to discourage any more questions, a movement caught her eye. Her trunks, both of them, bobbed partially submerged in the river. She gaped. Surely this was some horrid nightmare that unfolded. In a moment she’d wake up, somewhere. She didn’t care where that was, just as long as it wasn’t on the side of a swollen river watching her worldly possessions float past.
He followed her gaze and jerked to his feet. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she certainly didn’t expect him to laugh. He wiped the dripping river water from his face and shook his head. Cora stared in disbelief. A moment ago, she was certain he pitied her. She’d fretted. But Nick had no sympathy for her. None.
“Stay right there.” He waded back into the stream.
The water only came to his waist in this part of the river. He grabbed the first trunk and then the other and returned slowly, pulling her luggage behind him.
His lips curved with a smirk. “You’re a mail-order bride, aren’t you, Cora Singleton?”
What was so funny about that, she’d like to know. She gave a slight shake of her head.
“Oh, yes, you are. And I know just who’s waiting for you, too.”
She waited to see if he truly knew who she came to marry, but he just kept that infuriating smile. If anything, it grew broader as he stepped ashore. He pulled the luggage out of the water, and tipped each piece on its side to drain the filthy river water.
The sight filled her with such misery, she sniffled and bit her lip to keep from sobbing.
His smile faded, and he narrowed his eyes. “No crying, Cora.”
He returned to the wagon and drove it to where she sat. Justin stared at her, wide-eyed. She still sniffed a little but the urge to fall apart had passed. In its place was a slow burning anger towards Nick. He’d rescued her, to be sure, but it was his fault she’d fallen into the river to begin with. And then he’d had the manners, or lack of manners, to laugh about her luggage.
Worse, she’d alluded to her hearing difficulty and he’d shrugged her troubles off. She’d hoped for a shred of sympathy and gotten none.
While Nick loaded the luggage, Justin climbed down from the wagon and hurried to her side. Cora didn’t like to see the fear in his eyes but had to admit that the concern gratified her. The boy set his hand on her arm, searching her eyes for an answer for his unspoken question.
“I’m all right,” she said softly. “Just wet and cold.”
Nick walked back to where she stood with Justin. “We need to get you into something dry.”
Cora scowled but bit back a response. She needed dry clothing, obviously, but everything she owned was drenched with muddy flood water. Justin’s lips tugged into a smile. Clasping her arm, he led her back to the wagon. Nick helped them both up. Before he began driving the wagon, he took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders.
The gesture helped her wounded pride. His coat swallowed her and was still warm from his body, sending a shiver of pleasure across her skin. It held his scent too, a heady, masculine scent that made her skin tingle. Despite the warm jacket, she soon felt a chill grip her body. Her teeth chattered and both Nick and Justin gave her worried looks. When they drove towards a home set amidst a grove of trees, Cora hardly had the strength to ask where they were. Nick stopped the wagon and lifted her down.
He cupped her shoulders. “This is my home. I’m not taking you into town in that wet clothing.”
She nodded, too dazed to form a response. Taking her hand, he led her inside, and when she stumbled over her wet skirts, he picked her up, carried her across the threshold and up a wide staircase. As they ascended, a thread of alarm wound around her thoughts. This was wrong. Unseemly. She shouldn’t be in a strange man’s house, much less let him carry her in such an intimate way.
He kicked a door open, walked through a bedroom and set her down in a washroom. He opened the tap and began to fill an enormous tub. She swayed and grabbed the counter to keep from collapsing.
A few moments later he returned with a kettle of hot water and a bundle of clothing. “I don’t have anything that will fit you, but at least it’s dry.”
He’d brought her a pair of trousers and a shirt, clothing she assumed was his. He filled the tub with the hot water.
“I had a kettle on the back of the stove, otherwise you’d be taking an ice-cold bath. Let me help you get out of your wet clothes.”
His manner was gruff and totally domineering. Despite her exhaustion, she couldn’t allow him to undress her. She held up her hands and edged away.
He brushed her hand aside. “Let’s not pretend you’re some trembling virgin who’s never taken her clothes off in front of a man, all right, sweetheart?”
She stared, transfixed as he tugged the coat from her shoulders. He fumbled, scowling at her buttons. After a moment, he managed the top button and began to work his way down. Rooted to the floor, she could hardly breathe, much less utter the words to stop him.
When he finished with the buttons, he helped her step out of the dress. She set her hand on his shoulders. He tossed the dress aside and rose to his full height,
he held her in his gaze for a long moment. His expression was impassive. She’d expected some look of brutality, but there was no sign of his filthy intentions.
Steam rose from the tub and billowed around them as he turned his attention to her chemise. Each time his hands brushed her skin, a shock of arousal flared across her. She’d never been so cold. His hands felt like a brand, searing her. When he finished taking off the rest of her underthings, he took her hand and led her to the tub.
She sank into the tub and groaned at the shock of the hot water on her cold skin.
“I swore to him I was untouched,” she whispered.
He arched a brow. “How do you plan to explain bringing a kid with you?”
“Justin’s not my son.”
Nick scoffed. “Right.”
“I swear he’s not my child. I’m only twenty. How could I have a child that age?”
He shrugged. “I don’t care one way or another. I’ll take you to him tomorrow, but I damn sure won’t leave you there.”
“Tomorrow?” she whispered. “I can’t spend the night here. With you!”
“I can’t drive the buckboard across a stream at night. I’ll find him tomorrow and offer him a deal.”
“You don’t even know who my intended is. And how do you know I want you to offer him a deal?”
“You’ll see when you meet him, sweetheart. David’s no prize. You don’t want to marry him.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to marry you!”
“Did I ask?” And then he gave her another aggravating smile and winked. He turned and left, shutting the door behind him. He knew David. Her heart sank. Would this terrible dream never end?
Chapter Eight
Nick
Descending the stairs, Nick tried to calm the lust that besieged him. He’d changed out of his wet clothes and still his blood simmered in his veins. He felt almost painfully hard. He’d love nothing more than to return to the washroom and have his way with Cora. Touching her and imagining more was impossible. Not with her boy waiting outside, and not with another man waiting for her in Colter Canyon.