Ana Seymour

by Jeb Hunters Bride

  A couple was strolling in his direction in the dark, and somehow he wasn’t surprised to discern that it was Kerry herself. Scott Haskell had an arm around her waist and was looking down at her. It was too dark for Jeb to see his expression, but he had an idea what it might be.

  They undoubtedly couldn’t see him. He was sitting in the shadows of the building behind him. The polite thing would be to make his presence known, he supposed, but instead he stayed motionless, straining his ear in spite of himself to try to hear their conversation. But their voices were low, loverlike, he imagined, in that close position. And, as if to confirm his suspicions, suddenly Haskell leaned down and kissed her.

  To his disgust, a surge went through him of something that felt remotely like jealousy. Not jealousy, surely. Envy, perhaps. He was envious of any two people in love who were at liberty to give in to the natural impulses to share each other’s body. It was not an impulse he would give in to himself. At least, not with someone he loved. Never again.

  The kiss was brief. A damn sight briefer than Jeb would have made it if he’d been in Haskell’s shoes, he thought. But he definitely didn’t want them discovering him now. He leaned farther back into the shadows and sat almost without breathing until they turned around, arm in arm, and headed back toward the dancing.

  The incident had not helped his mood. And it raised some questions. Were Haskell and Kerry in love? If so, they could be married by the fort commander, and she would no longer be a single woman. She’d have the right to continue on with the train. It was an interesting idea. One that would solve everyone’s problems.

  He stood from the hard wood platform and stretched his back. For several minutes he stood staring into the darkness after the departed couple. It seemed to be the perfect solution—Kerry married to Scott Haskell. Kerry would get what she wanted. He wouldn’t have to worry about finding her an escort back East He’d be able to enjoy Patrick’s company for the rest of the trip. Kerry and Haskell—altogether the perfect solution. Which didn’t in the least explain why the idea made him want to smash his fist into the log holding up Dr. Featherstone’s fancy awning.

  When Kerry arrived back at the wagon after her walk with Scott, Patrick was already asleep, curled up on top of some boxes in the back of the wagon, still dressed in his clothes, even his boots. He’d exhausted himself running around all day with his friends, she thought with a smile.

  But Kerry wasn’t sleepy. She thought about building a fire. Since they’d eaten at the dance, they’d not bothered to build one tonight. Now she found that she missed it—not the warmth exactly. The night was mild. But the comfort of it.

  She felt as if she could use a little comfort She couldn’t exactly state why. She really had had a wonderful time at the dance. Everyone had been nice to her, even the ones who’d been angry after the incident at the river crossing. And she’d enjoyed being fussed over by Dorothy and having her hair fixed, little female attentions that she’d missed growing up.

  But nevertheless, now that Scott had said goodnight and headed back to his own wagon, she was feeling melancholy. It probably was due to the confused state of her emotions. His kiss had been nice, perhaps not as magical as she’d imagined her first kiss would be, but certainly…nice. What was bothering her, she decided, was not the kiss, but Scott’s goodnight words.

  “Sleep well, lass,” he’d said tenderly. “You should, you know. Because it’s beginning to look as if you won’t have to have that showdown with Captain Hunter after all.”

  When she’d looked puzzled, he’d said with a slight smile, “I told you that single women didn’t stay single very long out West.” She’d started to say something, but he’d put two fingers on her lips and shook his head. “It’s late and your eyelids are drooping, sweetheart We’ll talk about it tomorrow. We’ll make some plans.”

  And then he’d kissed her, on the cheek this time, and had left.

  She gave up the thought of a fire and of sleep and decided to sit a spell and watch the nearly full moon. She sank to the ground, heedless of getting dust on her dress, and rested her back against the wagon wheel with a deep sigh. It was no use trying to convince herself that she’d been mistaken about Scott’s meaning. After all, he’d been attentive from that first day on the trail and tonight he’d told her plainly that he intended to kiss her again soon. People didn’t do that kind of thing unless they were beginning to get serious. And it would solve her problems. If she were married, Jeb Hunter would have no grounds for keeping her off the wagon train. It seemed a bit of an unusual reason to marry, but she supposed that people had done it for less cause.

  Was Scott in love with her? she wondered. She wasn’t in love with him. At least, she was pretty certain that she wasn’t. But she still had vague memories of her mother and father together, tender and cuddling, when she’d been a small child. And she had more recent memories of her father’s face every time he’d talked about her mother. He’d never forgotten her, never even looked at another woman until the day he died. Now that was love. And it certainly was nothing like the mixture of gratitude and friendly affection she felt for Scott Haskell.

  “You’re still awake.” Jeb Hunter appeared suddenly in the moonlight.

  She straightened up abruptly, scraping her back painfully on the wheel hub.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Kerry reached behind her and tried to rub the sore spot, but gave up after a moment when she couldn’t reach it. “What can I do for you, Captain?” she asked without bothering to keep the irritation out of her voice.

  He squatted beside her. “Did you hurt yourself?” He reached an arm toward her but she scooted away.

  “I’m fine.” He watched her for a long moment without speaking, so finally she said, “Was there something you wanted this late at night, Captain?”

  He let his legs sprawl out beneath him and sat on the ground beside her. “I just wanted to talk to you. But I thought we’d agreed that you would call me Jeb.”

  “I don’t recall agreeing to any such thing.”

  Jeb gave a reluctant chuckle. “Miss Gallivan, you are one stubborn lady.”

  “I’m glad you’ve figured that out, Captain. That way you won’t be surprised tomorrow when I come to see you again about staying with the train.”

  “As a matter of fact, that’s what I wanted to speak with you about.” Now that he was here, Jeb wasn’t exactly sure why he had come. If he admitted the truth, it would be that once the idea had entered his head, he’d not been able to wait until morning to see if his suspicions about Haskell and Kerry were right. But there was no sign of the affable prospector, and Kerry did not seem to be in the humor of a girl who had just received a proposal of marriage.

  “Have you changed your mind?” she asked, without sounding too hopeful.

  “No. I don’t take lone women on my train. I don’t know of any wagon master who does.”

  “So what did you want to talk with me about?”

  Jeb shifted to move his back from where it was being poked by the wheel spokes. “Do you want to go sit on the riverbank where the grass is soft?” he asked, still trying to decide how to voice his jumbled thoughts.

  Kerry nodded indifferently, but took his hand when he stood and offered it to her. She winced and her knee buckled slightly as her weight came down on her ankle.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, catching hold of her elbow.

  “Yes. The foot’s almost all better, but I think I danced on it a little too much tonight.”

  He kept hold of her arm as they walked the few yards to the river. “Perhaps you should wrap it again.”

  “I’ll see. If it’s sore, I’ll ask Scott about it in the morning.”

  “There’s a doctor here at the fort. You should ask him instead of some blacksmith,” he told her, unable to keep the censure out of his voice. “Is this all right?” He gestured to the edge of the bank where the grass was unbroken by patches of dirt.


  She nodded agreement and they sat down, her skirts billowing over the lip of the bank. They fluffed up around her as she dropped her hands to her lap. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t like Scott very much?” she asked him.

  Jeb stuck his feet out straight and looked down at the rushing river. “I have nothing against Haskell in particular. I’m just not too fond of gold seekers.”

  “Haven’t a lot of the people you’ve guided out West been on their way to the gold fields?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I’ve seen many good men seized by the fever. Usually not much good comes of it.”

  Kerry followed the direction of his gaze and began staring at the rushing water herself. It was hypnotic. She waited. He said he’d come to talk to her, so let him talk. But when he finally spoke after a long silence, his words jolted her out of her near-trance.

  “Have you thought about marrying Scott Haskell?” he asked bluntly.

  Kerry’s swallow turned into a gulp. Was the man some kind of a wizard? Or had he been standing in the bushes listening to Scott’s good-night words to her? The safest way to answer seemed to be “Why are you asking?”

  Jeb turned his body toward her. “It looks as if the two of you have become…good friends, shall we say? And I thought it may have occurred to you that if you were married, there would be no reason to keep you off the train.”

  “Is that true? If I were married, you’d let me stay?” Kerry found herself holding her breath as she awaited his reply, which took several moments.

  “I suppose I’d have to. You’d be no different than any of the other women on the train if you had a husband.”

  The palms of her hands grew moist. “Oh.”

  “So you have thought about it.”

  “Well…not until tonight.”

  “Has he asked you to marry him?”

  He seemed to have grown tense as he waited for her answer. “I think that would be a matter between Mr. Haskell and myself,” she said frostily. “I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

  The smile he gave her was equally chilly. “I think I’ve explained to you before that everything that happens on this train is my business.”

  Of course, he was right. It was just that she hadn’t sorted out her own head about the idea of marrying Scott. How could she expect to discuss it with Jeb Hunter? Especially when his presence next to her in the moonlight was starting up those same flutters that she’d felt the night she’d seen him without his clothes. They weren’t entirely pleasant flutters, and she wasn’t sure exactly what they meant, but she knew that she’d never felt anything remotely like that with Scott. Not even when he’d kissed her on the lips tonight.

  She sighed. “Yes, you’re right. You have a right to know. And as soon as I know, I’ll be sure to tell you.”

  “So you are considering it?”

  He yanked a handful of grass by his side and threw it in the direction of the river, then frowned as it failed to reach the water. It almost seemed as if he was angry about the idea of her marrying Scott, Kerry thought with some confusion. Probably because he was looking forward to being rid of her. “To tell you the truth, Captain—”

  “Now that would be a novelty from you,” he interrupted.

  “The truth is that I don’t know about marrying Scott. It could be a solution to my problem. But I…I just don’t know.”

  “Are you in love with him?” His face was very close to hers. She could see the slight scar on the right side of his chin and the fleck of dark gold in his moonlit eyes.

  “I…” The breath had seemed to stick in her throat and she was finding it hard to breathe.

  Jeb’s heart had begun to thunder inside his chest. She was so near that he could smell some kind of lavender scent that clung to her dress. Her lips were just inches from him, full and moist. I don’t know, she had said, sounding lost. The words echoed along with the pulse inside his ears.

  Without conscious thought he reached for her, and once his hands folded around her arms, they continued of their own volition until she was hauled totally into his lap, and his mouth found hers, first tasting, then asking for more, then taking it, without asking.

  She made a sound at the back of her throat, but it wasn’t a protest, and it only served to fuel his blood. Her lips were pliant and rich, her mouth sweet, tasting faintly of apple.

  He plundered it, no longer even remotely in control of his raging senses. Her breasts grew hard against his chest and he pressed her closer, trying at once to clear the whirling in his head and to purge his body of the hunger that had been clawing at him since the moment he had seen her in Scott Haskell’s arms.

  It couldn’t have lasted for more than a couple of minutes, but it was enough to steady the throb inside him. It was enough for Kerry to come to her senses and begin to push on his arms.

  Her sensuous moan now turned itself into a protest. Alarms rang inside Jeb’s head and he relaxed his hold on her with something akin to horror. What in the name of sweet Jesus had possessed him?

  Without speaking, Kerry pulled herself out of his arms and back to her seat on the bank. He let her go immediately, his insides churning. The palms of his hands felt as if they’d been scalded. Totally unsettled, he flopped backward to lie on the bank and put an arm across his eyes. He didn’t want to see the accusing look in her eyes. Never in his life had he made advances to a woman who was unwilling. But then, he asked himself as his breathing began to slow toward normal, had she been so completely unwilling? Was it just inexperience that had made her lips mold to his as if their mouths had been designed to fit together?

  “I’m sorry,” he said finally, a little less sorry than he had been when she’d ended the embrace.

  “I…you…” She was sputtering, sounding more lost than ever. And young.

  He sat up. Even if she hadn’t been totally unwilling, he’d had no business kissing her. “It’s the moonlight,” he said lightly. “And your green dress. I was carried away by your…charms.”

  “You had no right…” she began with a scowl.

  “Of course not. I took shameless advantage of a helpless female alone in the wilderness.” He suddenly saw how he could use the incident itself to assure that there would be no repetition of it. “Which is precisely the reason that rules get made about single women on the trail. You have no protection against bounders like me.”

  Kerry hunched over her knees and hugged them. “So this was all a show, Captain?” she asked, her voice low with anger. “You were trying to prove to me how helpless I am?”

  Jeb was torn. Part of him wanted to deny her accusation. If Kerry had had any experience at all with men, she would have known that his body’s response to her was anything but show. But perhaps it was better for them both if she believed him an unfeeling scoundrel. “Did I succeed?” he asked with a forced grin.

  Kerry released her tight hold on her legs and jumped to her feet. “You only succeeded in showing me that I have to choose my company more carefully.”

  He stood more slowly. “You’ll encounter worse company than me if you persist in heading West.”

  “I doubt that, Captain,” she snapped. Then she spun around on one heel and marched away toward her wagon.

  “What would you say if I decided to marry Scott?” Kerry asked Patrick as they rebuilt their fire for breakfast the next morning. The log Patrick was holding slid from his hand and landed on the dead fire with a flurry of ashes.

  “Marry? Get married to him?”

  “Well, I’m not sure if that’s exactly what he had in mind. But if I were married to him, then they’d have to let us stay with the train.”

  Kerry had spent a good portion of her nearly sleepless night trying to convince herself of the logic of the move. And trying to assure herself that her consideration of the idea had nothing to do with the kisses she had shared with Jeb Hunter the previous evening. But in the end she was too honest to deny even to herself that she’d been frightened by what had happened by the river.
Frightened not of Jeb, but of herself.

  “But…” Patrick had unloaded the rest of his logs and stood watching her with a confused look. “I mean, you can’t just marry someone you’ve barely met And, besides,” he finished with a sudden look of relief, “Scott isn’t even going to Sonoma. He’s heading to the gold fields. He can’t marry you.”

  “Well, maybe he could marry me for a while, and then go off to the gold fields.”

  Patrick looked more confused than ever. “Do people do that? Marry for just a while?”

  Kerry gave an exasperated shrug. “I don’t know. The whole idea’s probably crazy.”

  They worked in silence for several more moments, Patrick lighting the fire and Kerry scooping coffee into the pot. Finally he said, “It wouldn’t be so bad. I like Scott.”

  “I like him, too,” Kerry said wistfully. She did like him. He’d been kind to her and helpful. He went to great efforts to do nice things for her and for Patrick. He was a good man. And his kiss had felt sweet on her lips.

  Sweet She gave herself a little shake as once again the wave rolled through her middle at another flash of the memory. But the memory was not of Scott’s sweet kiss. The kiss that had her insides melting into a liquid pool every time she turned around was that other one. Jeb Hunter’s kiss.

  After years of avoiding the entire idea, she’d been kissed by two men in one night. And the two kisses had been more profoundly different than the devil and a holy choir.

  It wasn’t until midmorning that Scott came back to find her at her wagon. Kerry’d been expecting his appearance all morning, and had changed her mind at least two dozen times about what she hoped he’d say.