The Best Man

by Maggie Osborne

  Dal’s gaze sharpened. “Has he hit her again?”

  Freddy was sure of it. She’d seen bruises on Les’s chin, had noticed Les wincing with pain. “When I asked, she denied it, then started crying and begged me not to mention anything to you.” They walked toward a low bluff overlooking the rushing water.

  “Do you want me to speak to her? Throw Ward off the drive? I’d be happy to.”

  Freddy put her hand on his arm, drawing a soft breath at the powerful feel of iron muscle. “Don’t. I’m just expressing my own frustration and concern.” When a tingle leapt from his body to hers, she dropped her hand and frowned down at eddies of swiftly flowing water. “It’s funny how things change. I used to resent it that Les looked to everyone else to solve her problems. Now I’m upset that she won’t let anyone help her.”

  “Gunderson is going to take his herd across tomorrow,” Dal said, changing the subject. “We’ll go the day after.” He jerked off his hat and raked a hand through his hair. “The question isn’t whether we’ll lose beeves, the question is how many.”

  Freddy looked down at the tossing, raging river. “How deep is it?”

  “Too deep to walk. The cattle and horses will have to swim.”

  “Swim that?” she asked in disbelief. As she watched, a small tree floated past, tossing and whirling in the rapid, churning currents.

  “We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t,” Dal said, his voice rough with frustration. “We lost two beeves in the quicksand last night. It’s a miracle we haven’t lost more.”

  A powerful thunderstorm had rumbled through, sparking stunning displays of cracking lightning. All the waiting herds had stampeded, and all had lost beeves to the quicksand, the bluffs, or the river. The King’s Walk outfit had been lucky not to lose more than two, but it had taken all night and most of the morning to sort things out and retrieve their cattle from other herds. James and Peach had provoked a fistfight with the drovers from the herd behind them, and both had black eyes and bruises to show for it.

  Adding to the general dissatisfaction, the Red River Station had nothing to offer but one outfitting store and one crowded saloon. Luther—Luther!—had almost gotten into a fight when he drove his wagon to the store to buy supplies for Alex.

  Everyone was edgy about swimming the floodwaters, and tempers boiled near the surface.

  “How will Alex get across?”

  “Luther will pay the six-dollar ferry charge for Alex and the chuck wagon. And Luther will keep Caldwell away from the herd. The rest of us will ride through.” He cast brooding eyes on the swollen river. “Including that idiot, Ward. He’ll send his wagon on the ferry, but he’s decided to save two dollars by riding across.”

  “I think Ward has some foolish idea that he can do whatever you can do.” Trying to imagine swimming her horse across the cold floodwaters frightened Freddy. The last time they swam the herd, it had scared her badly when her horse’s hooves left the ground and she knew her life depended on Walker’s ability and power to swim against the currents and emerge on the opposite bank. That river had been deep, but not raging in flood. The Red River would be much more dangerous.

  Dal placed his hand on her arms. “Are you up to this? I can send you with Alex on the ferry if your shoulder is still giving you trouble.”

  The temptation was great to accept his offer, but that would place an extra burden on the other drovers. The crossing would be difficult enough without attempting it shorthanded. “I’m on the mend.” Her shoulder still ached, but today, she wasn’t wearing the sling. She was trying to work the stiffness out of her sore muscles.

  Gazing up at him, she wondered how she had ever imagined that his eyes were cool or cold. Now she saw warmth and a flicker of desire that made her stomach tighten and her breath quicken, made her long to step forward into his arms.

  “I didn’t want to say this, but… I miss you,” he said gruffly.

  The heat of his large, callused hands on her arms made her remember his fingers teasing along her naked skin. “I didn’t want to say it either, but… I miss you, too.”

  “Sometime soon, Freddy, we’re going to have to talk about you missing me and me missing you.” His gaze dropped to her lips.

  “What do you want to do about it?” she asked, feeling herself go weak inside.

  “There’s the dilemma.” Shoving his fingers into his back pockets, he stepped up on the bluff and looked down at the rushing, tossing waters. “I think about you all the time. It’s like you’ve possessed me,” he said without looking at her. “You know damned well what I want.”

  Relief sapped the strength from her knees. She hadn’t been sure, had needed to hear him admit it. “I can’t stop thinking about that night in Fort Worth.” She’d even dreamed about being with him, the dream but a pale version of reality.

  “Hearing that only makes it worse.” When he looked at her, his expression was almost savage. “I want you all the time. I wake up wanting you and go to sleep wanting you.”

  “I thought you were avoiding me.”

  “I have been. ‘You’re a hell of a woman, Freddy. And I respect you too much to take advantage of you. I don’t want you to walk away in Abilene thinking I used you or acted selfishly. I don’t understand this myself, but your good opinion is important to me. I need your respect more than I need your body.” He looked surprised and then amused to hear himself admit such a thing. “Which is saying a whole lot.”

  No one had ever told her that she was a hell of a woman, and a lump of gratitude rose in her throat. “Thank you for saying that.” Before she could tell him that he had earned her respect regardless of what happened between them, he turned abruptly and strode away from her.

  As she walked back to camp it struck her as ironic that she’d complained bitterly for a very long time about men treating her as if she were one step above a doxie and now she was upset because Dal insisted that he would not treat her that way.

  After pouring a cup of coffee, she watched Alex shape sourdough biscuits in between slapping at mosquitoes, and asked, “Where’s John?” Usually he wasn’t far from her sister.

  Frowning Alex pushed a lock of hair off of her forehead. “John’s been acting very mysteriously since the stampede.” Freddy didn’t have to ask which stampede. “He’s spending more time by himself.” Alex paused. “Removing the bullet from your shoulder was a big step for him. I think he laid to rest a lot of painful memories that night, and it’s given him much to think about. He’s changing, trying to return to the world.”

  Freddy took one of the biscuits and tossed it in her hand. “Are you worried about crossing the river?”

  “No. Are you?”

  “No.”

  They looked at each other and burst into laughter.

  Then shyly and with many embarrassed pauses, Freddy did something she had never dreamed she would. She told her older sister about being a virgin, about the night in Fort Worth, and about her current dilemma. “You’re shocked, aren’t you? You think only a harlot would consider accepting a man on a temporary basis.”

  Alex laid her crutch aside and sank into her chair. She wiped floury hands in her apron then waved Freddy down beside her. “Before this trip, I might well have…” The color deepened in her cheeks. “But I’ve learned a few things. One of the truths I’ve learned is that life is uncertain.” She leaned her head back. “There are so many things in life that we have to do, must do. And so many rules either real or self-imposed against the things we want to do. Are you asking my advice?”

  “No,” Freddy answered, smiling. “But I’d like to hear it anyway.”

  “Whatever you decide about Dal, you’ll have to live with the consequences for the rest of your life. And that might include a child. Will you look back and regret giving yourself to this man? Or will you look back and regret that you didn’t? No one can make the decision for you,” she added gently. “But if I were offering advice, I think I’d say follow your heart.”

  Surp
rise was followed by quick tears. “I’ve been so wrong about you.”

  “No, you weren’t.” Tears swam in Alex’s eyes, too. “I’ve been a hypocrite.” She drew a long breath. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you and Les.” Speaking slowly, she told Freddy the truth about running away to Boston, her life there, and how Payton had died. “So you see,” she said at the finish, “I have no right to judge anyone.”

  “The accident wasn’t your fault,” Freddy objected earnestly. “You didn’t make it rain that night or cause the slippery road. Payton could have insisted on staying home. You’re wrong to blame yourself.”

  “Thank you,” Alex whispered, covering her face. “More than I can ever express, I appreciate hearing you say that. Even if you’re wrong.”

  “I’m not wrong. If John could speak, he’d say the same thing.”

  They sat together, feeling closer than they ever had before. The moment would have been perfect if Les had been with them. But Les was at the observers’ camp, sitting with Ward and Jack Caldwell. She looked miserable and utterly hopeless.

  Waiting to cross the river gave Alex time to do some baking ahead, time to do laundry, and enjoy some rare leisure time. She and John had picked wild plums most of the afternoon, and she had baked plum pies. If she’d had the faintest idea how to make jam, she would have been tempted to try.

  After putting away the pies, she lit the lanterns on the back of the chuck wagon, then smiled. “You’ve been so restless.” Usually, John was a man who didn’t display much agitation, but today he’d been edgy and he’d glanced at the sky a dozen times, as if wishing the day would hurry past. In the light of the lanterns, she gazed at his mouth and then away.

  They hadn’t kissed again because she hadn’t permitted it. And to make certain that her resolve remained strong, she had stopped wearing gloves. The gleam of sunlight on her wedding ring kept Payton in front of her mind even while her body longed for John. Being an observant man, John had noticed that she preferred blisters and calluses to wearing her gloves, and she didn’t doubt that he had guessed the reason why.

  “Thank you,” she said gratefully, as he pushed her chair up behind her and took the crutch from her hands. She’d been on the crutch most of the day, her arm ached, and her leg was tired.

  Like everyone, she supposed, her thoughts had begun to turn toward the end of the drive and what it would mean. Her mind shied from saying good-bye to John; she could not bear to imagine that moment. But she’d begun to think about returning to her wheelchair full-time. She would abandon the crutch she had come to depend on so strongly. That had been her decision from the beginning, and she intended to honor it.

  “It’s a lovely evening,” she murmured, wrenching her thoughts from the future.

  John touched her shoulder, then pushed her toward the spot where they usually sat after she had cleaned her worktable for the night, close enough to the campfire to enjoy the songs and tall tales, but far enough away that they felt a measure of privacy.

  Tonight, to her surprise, he pushed her past the outer reach of the light and into the darkness beyond. “John? What are you doing?”

  He didn’t reply, of course, but the answer became obvious a few minutes later. When he set the chair’s brake, she saw that he’d chosen this site earlier. He’d spread a blanket over the soft grass in a spot where the air was scented by wild plums and they could hear the murmuring whisper of the river. In the light of a half-moon, she noticed a basket placed beside the blanket and a long narrow package.

  At once, she knew what he intended.

  Nervously, she wet her lips and felt her heart flutter, then sink. Please, she silently prayed. I’m not strong enough to refuse him. Help me.

  Walking around her chair, John knelt before her, his hands on the arms of her wheelchair, his expressive eyes on her face. Alex sucked in a deep breath and held it until her lungs burned. Tears pricked her eyes because tonight would destroy them. Once and for all, she had to reject him, had to make him understand that she had no right to take the happiness he was offering. When he finally accepted there was no place for him in her life, he would leave. She had so hoped they would have a little more time, that they could stay together until Abilene.

  Placing a trembling hand on his cheek, she gazed deeply into his eyes, her own eyes sparkling with tears. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I’ll always be married, John. You know why.”

  But God help her, that wasn’t the only reason for refusing him. There was another, equally compelling reason, one that propped her obligation to Payton. Once she’d had a lovely whole body that she had been shyly proud of. Now her body was mangled and incomplete. She didn’t want John to see her naked, it would shame her. That above all made it possible for her to refuse something she tried to pretend she had not dreamed of.

  He reached for her hand and gently removed it from his cheek. And then, before Alex realized what he intended, he slipped the gold band from her finger. Shock rendered her speechless. Stunned, she gripped the arms of the chair as he stood, having no idea what he would do. Then she cried out, and her hands flew to her chest when he brought back his arm and threw her ring toward the willows and plum bushes lining the banks of the river.

  “Oh my God!” Trembling and white-faced, she stared up at him in the moonlight. “How dare you… you had no right! No right!” Shock and outrage widened her eyes. Shaking violently, she dropped her hands to the wheels, fumbling to release the brake. “I’ll never find it! Oh God. How could you do that? How could you dare do that?”

  Dropping to his knees in front of her, he caught her hands and held them so tightly that she couldn’t struggle free though she fought him and tried.

  “I love you, Alex.”

  Her heart stopped. She couldn’t believe that he’d spoken. Thunderstruck, she stared into his steady gaze.

  “You’re not married. You haven’t been married for over a year.”

  His voice was hoarse and strained from disuse. But when he became accustomed to speaking, his voice would sound exactly as she had imagined, deep and quiet and thrilling. Bittersweet tears swam in her eyes. The words that broke his five-year, self-imposed silence were a declaration of his love for her.

  Tears glistening in her eyes, she leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad for you!” They hadn’t needed words between them, but she understood that silence had been the last barrier between John and the world he rejected. Now that barrier had dropped, and he would be whole again. With all her aching heart, she wished that she, too, could be whole, for him.

  His hands slipped around her waist and he stood pulling up her upright with him. Alex gasped, feeling the sudden open space beneath her right leg, and she clasped his shoulders to steady herself. “I can’t,” she whispered. “Oh John, please understand. I can’t.”

  He molded her body to his and another gasp tore at her throat. She had never expected to be held in a man’s arms again. Hadn’t dared to hope that she would ever stand chest to chest, hip to hip with a man who desired her. She had truly believed lovemaking was a pleasure she would never again experience in her lifetime. That was her choice and her destiny.

  His hands moved from her waist to her face, and he kissed the tears shining on her cheeks and eyelids. “I love you,” he whispered. “I have loved you from the moment I saw you.”

  Standing on one leg made it impossible to step away from the solid heat of his body and the tender kisses raining over her face. Closing her eyes, arching her throat, she clung to him for support and struggled to breathe, wanting this moment and his kisses to endure forever. “I can’t do this,” she whispered helplessly. “You’re taking advantage of me.”

  “Yes,” he murmured, smiling against her lips.

  His hands returned to her waist and he held her tightly, securely against his thighs and chest and she swallowed a sob when she felt the power of his arousal. This wonderful man desired her. How was it possible? Didn’t he know how ugly an
d scarred the hated stump was?

  Of course he knew.

  Taking her hands, he moved them to his neck, and then he kissed her, his mouth gentle and unhurried, warm and unbearably sweet. Her arms tightened around him and she parted her lips when his tongue explored her mouth then slipped inside to taste her.

  There was one last moment of reason when she still could have refused. Drawing back, she gazed into his eyes, struggling against heart and body, and the moment hung between them. She knew without doubt if she gave herself to him, guilt would damn her all her days. But if she did not, regret would poison the rest of her life.

  They both recognized the moment, and knew when it rushed past them.

  His kisses deepened, and Alex returned them with the fervor of a woman who had discovered a passionate nature too late. In her heart, she knew tonight would be her last physical experience—it would not happen again. There would never be another man like John. She would never love this deeply, this completely. She would make her time with him a memory to hold tight and cherish, would make of tonight all it could be and had to be to last the remainder of her life. As for her wedding ring… she would think about that later. Not now.

  When her leg began to tremble violently, he grasped her hands and swung her down to the blanket, the gesture surprisingly graceful, and he sat beside her, gazing at her face in the moonlight. “Take down your hair,” he requested softly.

  Not looking away from his beloved face, she lifted her arms to remove her hairpins. Skeins of golden hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. He filled his hands with her hair and let the silken strands flow through his fingers.

  Shyly, her fingers quivering, she opened his shirt and slid her hand inside against his hot skin, drawing a soft quick breath. His skin was smooth, the muscles hard beneath it. Leaning forward, she kissed the spot she had bared and heard him groan, then whisper her name.

  But when he reached for the row of buttons running down her bodice, she caught his hand and gazed into his eyes with a plea for understanding. “Please, John. Must we undress?”